Taking the stairs this time seems like the better option. Something just doesn't feel safe about me being in an enclosed space like an elevator in my current state. There is the possibility that people would come on and off. While they probably wouldn't have any interest in me, I would be suspicious of every single one of them. It can't be helped. Tight spaces, swirling emotions and paranoia would make a dangerous cocktail. So I avoid it and look for the door. I pass only one other person on the stairs, which proves my thoughts correct. There are only a few people milling about in the corridors leading to the parking garage as well.

The garage itself, however, is a different story. There are plenty of people coming and going. Not amusement park opening sized crowds or anything, but enough to make me keep my head on a swivel. I check my car for any new damage and look in the back seat for any stowaways. There's nothing new of note, so I get in and back out of the parking spot. Once I get out of the hospital's area of effect, I will feel more at ease. It will be easier to know if anyone with power is around.

I don't understand why there is so much going on here. With Anna or the Hound. It's almost like it's tailor-made to throw my perception off. I am getting an eerie feeling that perhaps someone is trying to screw with me again. If they are, they are wasting their time. I don't have enough mental capacity to deal with it at the moment. I am curious who messaged me from her phone though. I could call it, but if I am being honest, I'm kind of afraid to find out. I highly doubt it was some good Samaritan that picked it up and overheard what hospital they were going to. They even said that Brad was stable, but they messaged me like it was her. Someone was close enough to know what was happening, but didn't make themselves known. Did someone want me at the hospital? The thought makes my skin prickle again. But, if that were the case, they had me there and didn't capitalize on my presence. It doesn’t make sense.

Once I get home, I am going to ask Vithar. Maybe, if he is willing, he can cast to see if there is another of my infernal siblings around again.

That's the last thing I want. I have got enough on my plate right now anyway with the Hellhound, Anna, and the ever looming threat of Rhal's revenge.

I really need help.

My drive back home takes me past the strip mall. The areas where I fought the Hound are blocked off. As I stop at a red light, I see that yellow caution tape is also stretched around the fountain where it dug into the ground. The windows that were shattered are in the process of being boarded up, most likely because of the cold. I feel bad for the local business owner's that have stores there. Corporations have capital on hand and measures in place for something like a shattered window. Mom and pop places might not, but I am positive no one has Hellhound attack insurance.

I have not heard any reports of anyone else getting injured, aside from some scrapes and such. It didn't seem that the Hellhound had attacked anyone besides Brad and me, so that was a positive development.

The light changes to green, pulling me from my thoughts and I continue on my route home. I know I told Anna that I would look for her phone, but I know it's unnecessary–someone has it, so stopping to search is pointless. Plus there's the chance that someone might notice me from earlier as the guy who was burned, cut, and bleeding. I gawk at the scene until it goes out of sight and then finish my drive home.

“Ey yo!” Vithar says from the couch when I walk in the door. He smiles at first then his eyes go wide. He is wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt that I gave him, and they hang off his wiry frame. With a book on his lap and an empty wrapper on his chest, he's surrounded by crumbs from the various foods he was eating. There are even crumbs littering his red wisps of chin hair. He opens his mouth, but I speak first.

“I’m fine,” I say. Pointing at the mess on the table, I admonish him. “Dude.”

“What? I'll clean it up.”

“Can't you just, like, prestidigitize it away?”

“I'm not a Victorian urchin; I don't do sleight of hand and I . . . Wait, is that another D&D spell? I told you I don't get those jokes, it's not funny.”

“It's a little funny. And I think you're lying. Everyone knows spells from D&D!” I exclaim with a fake glare. I bought a player's handbook specifically to mess with him, and it has paid off in spades. “I’ll be right back.”

I head upstairs to my room. I have to peel off the clothes I was wearing, tossing them in the trash in my bathroom. Before putting a new set on, I rinse off in the shower then check myself in the mirror. The cuts are more like red welts now and don’t seem to be seeping. I don’t think the scratches went as deep as they felt like they did. That’s a win. I pull on new clothes and head back downstairs.

The crumbs around Vithar are cleaned up now, but his plate remains on the table.

“What was all that about?” he asks. I assume he meant the state of my outfit, so I answer his question.

“Fun with Hellhounds,” I deadpan.

“Hellhounds? Are you having me on?”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure that’s what all the ‘animal attacks’ have been.”

“Oh. God.”

“Yep. What're you up to?”

“Just studying away,” he says, lifting the book on his lap and smiling.

“Any chance you're ready to put that knowledge to use?” His smile turns into a disappointed look. “I need your help, man.”

“Mike, come on. You know I can't.”

“Can't or won't?”

“Both?”

“What's your plan then? What's your ultimate goal? You can't just chill here and study magic. I like having you here, don't get me wrong. It's been nice, but it's not gonna be forever.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I haven't figured it out yet. But I will,” he says, looking down at the book. I assume it's so he doesn't have to look at me. I am slightly disappointed. It's been a lot longer than I thought it would be. It hasn't been bad having him here, but I wasn't expecting him to stay almost a year. He's not really safe here. Just because they haven't yet, doesn't mean the wizard's guild couldn't just barge in and look. He's got to know that.

“Dude, I haven't been wanting to say this, but they could come through that door and check to see if you are here at any moment. There's nothing stopping them but me.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking back up at me.

“I mean, I don't have a Threshold. I'm not a human to the old laws. There's nothing to take their power away if wizards decide to force their way in here. Hell, if anything decides to. I mean, I'd fight, I'd try to stop them–but it depends on what they come with. You've been living on the edge right here with me for months and anything could happen.”

He shuffles uncomfortably on the couch.

“I know,” he says.

“Then why are you okay with that, but not with using your skills to help yourself?”

He looks down and away.

“Because,” is all I hear. The rest is just mumbles.

“What?”

“I said because I'm scared. I'm scared because of what happened last time.”

Oh. Actually, that makes sense. Last time he really used magic was when he did a scrying spell for me. The item I gave him to use as a focus was essentially cursed by the person who left it for me. It sprung a trap that almost killed him. He was infirmed for days and almost went insane with visions afterward. That's when he came to help me. He saw what my sister would do and what the incubus had planned and knew he had to help me. After all that, he had to shack up with me. Perhaps he has his own trauma to deal with. His faith in magic is shaken. That is a lot for a wizard to take in in such a short time. It can be like a religion to some of them. I honestly didn't even think that he could still be affected by that.

I feel… Well, no. I am responsible for everything that has happened to him since he helped me, and it makes me feel like a dick. There is no way he would be in this predicament if he hadn't taken that step in stopping what he had seen.

“You're… You're scared to use magic?”

“Yes. I'd never had magic rebound on me like that,” he says.

“You could've gone back by now. They knew the state you were in, and I'm sure once you told them about how you helped me beat other demons who were going to wreak havoc, they'd be fine with your return.”

He sits with my words, mulling them over for a moment.

“Be that as it may,” he says. “If I did that, then I wouldn't be here to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“With anything. With everything. I've seen what you've had to deal with. I've seen the people you save and, well, I've come to think of you as a friend.”

Huh. Well, would you look at that?

Me, friends with a wizard.

I did it, mom.

That's an unlikely duo. I honestly thought he was just tolerating me because he didn't have another choice. It's not really me doing anything for him, but I have to tell him about what Eph can do for him. If he's not going to return, he will need help. Eph hid out for a very long time from the various guilds of the world. If Vithar accepts, he would be able to practice freely again and would have a strong teacher who isn't tied to the politics or infighting that can sometimes happen with the guilds and their leaders. It would just be learning magic for the sake of learning magic. It's the way I would want to learn if I had a say–and I might eventually.

“I appreciate that, really,” I say, trying to choose my next words carefully. “But, you’re not really helping at the moment. I’m not going to force you to, but a time table would be good.” He continues to look down and away without speaking, so I try for the helping hand. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I doubt I'll–”

“Well, not really me,” I say, interrupting him. “I talked to Eph recently. He wants to encourage your current feelings toward the guild.” He tries to interject again, but I continue. “He wants to take you on as an apprentice and improve your abilities. That's why he's been giving you the tomes to study,” I finish, and his mouth hangs open for a moment then closes. The words that he was going to say now seem to have been forgotten. “Is that something you'd be interested in? Being able to practice again?”

“You know it is. But how would I be able to do it without them finding me?”

“Eph kept off their radar for . . . well, I don't know how long. I know it's longer than thirty years or so by his count, but he won't tell me the exact amount. To be honest, though, does it matter? They know where he is now, but that's just because he doesn't care anymore, and they seem like they'd rather not deal with it. Isn't that what you want?”

He's silent for a moment. I hope he is thinking it over. I don't know what a pros versus cons list looks like in this scenario, but it seems like it's low risk, high reward–so I keep quiet while he works it out. I know he's come to the same conclusion I have when his face lights up and he nods to himself.

“I'll do it.”

“Great, I'll let Eph know,” I say, hoping he's buttered up enough to help me now. “So about that favor . . . “

“Nope, still can't do it, I'm not hidden yet. And just like you said, anything can come through that door,” he says, pointing at my front door.

There's a strong pulse of an aura, and I look toward the front door. Shortly thereafter, there's a knock.

Feeling auras is still relatively new to me. I could always feel when someone was around me, but not like I can now. It essentially gives me a readout of emotions, energy levels and sometimes, intent. Which is why, when I read the small amounts of both worry and anger coming through the door, it just flat out confuses me. I quickly rack my brain, grasping for anyone I have run into who would have an aura like this. Not only that, but who could I have upset and, in equal measure, would have cause to be worried about me? I've been lying low lately and working on this new ability with auras and my void bubble is really all I have been doing for the past year. That, and coming to an agreement with my other half. It's been productive, but those beatings taught me how tough I wasn't. It was humbling. I can’t assume the gremlins sent someone either. They didn’t seem to be organized like that.

I look at Vithar and he looks back at me.

“Expecting someone?” I ask.

“No.”

“Maybe it's another 'friendly' visit from the guild. I'll send them away,” I say, moving toward the door.

“No, that's not quite right,” he says slowly. I turn and face him, raising a questioning eyebrow. His eyes are wide, and a spike of fear creeps into his emotions.

“What?” There's no second knock, but the door swings open and a woman steps in.

Her familiar black ringlet hair is shorter than the last time I saw it. The sweatsuit she is wearing is powder blue, and she has white shoes on. Her dark skin comes into view as she steps further into the doorway. Her features look softer, younger than I remember. Her hazel eyes, the same color as mine, stare back at me.

She looks from me to Vithar then back at me. I look at him too and his expression screams fear for some reason. I turn back to her, my brow creased and my mouth hanging open slightly. Of all the scenarios that played through my mind, I was not expecting to see her.

“Mom?!”