Cali looked up as I stumbled in, her brow furrowing at the urgency in my eyes. She looked exhausted, her bloodshot eyes a stark contrast to her usual confident demeanor. The garage was dimly lit, shadows playing off the walls, casting an eerie glow on the various tools and parts scattered around. The air smelled of motor oil and metal.

“Heavens, Jack. Get in here. Did you already feed?”

“Had a bit of a... lapse. But I stopped myself.”

She nodded, though her expression remained grave. She gestured for me to sit on a worn-out stool by her workbench. “While you were off lollygagging, I was up late trying to figure out how to help you. Got a book from one of my contacts.”

My stomach tightened. “You went to the Shadow Market for this, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been going there for years. I’m a big girl, Jack. I can handle it.”

The Shadow Market was a labyrinthine world that shifted like a snake in the dark, entrances appearing and disappearing with the whims of the arcane. Only those who knew what to look for could find a way in or a way out, slipping through alleys and hidden doors. It’s where the Hexborn and Devil Kissed traded their secrets, spells, and forbidden goods. It’s also where the Midnight Council got their mail. The Market was as dangerous as it was alive—one wrong move and you were hexed, cursed, or worse.

Cali went into the back room and came back out with an ancient tome, its cover worn and faded, the leather cracked with age. The book looked like it had seen centuries of darkness, its pages yellowed and brittle. My stomach churned, not just from the sight of the book, but from the gnawing hunger that whispered Cali looked delicious.

Frank’s voice echoed in my mind, curious. Who’s this?

I sighed. This is Cali. We became friends shortly after I stuffed you away.

Introduce us.

I rolled my eyes. No. We have more important things to do.

Introduce us, Jack. Or I’m not helping anymore.

I breathed out through my teeth while Cali stared at me quizzically. Fine, Frank. But be nice. We like Cali.

“My jacket wants to meet you.”

She blinked. “Your jacket?”

Tell her my name’s Frank. With some respect, please.

“His name is Frank,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

The jacket flapped in an invisible breeze, showing off.

Stolen story; please report.

Cali just shook her head. “Cursed couture. Why not? When it rains, it pours.”

I explained the situation to her, summarizing the demonic binding. Cali listened, her confusion turning to resignation.

“Frank and I started working together during the War.”

She sighed. “Alright, Frank. Nice to meet you.”

Pleasure to meet you, Cali, Frank said in my mind, sounding almost smug.

Cali flipped through the pages of the massive book. “It’s a tome about the undead. It’s all written in old Abyssal, and I’ve been slowly translating it. So far, I’ve figured out two things.”

The pages she flipped through were filled with dark, twisted symbols and runes that seemed to pulse with an eerie light. Each one was like a little promise of doom.

I braced myself, sensing bad news. “Go on.”

“Eating people is bad,” she said.

I grunted, my body twitching as I tried to hold onto my sanity. The hunger gnawed at me, a relentless beast inside. “Well, that’s a revelation. What do I owe you for the advice, Doc?” My voice dripped with unintended venom.

She rolled her eyes. “But it’s inevitable. If you don’t, you’ll go feral and lose yourself. And if you find a way to stop yourself fully, you’ll just fall apart.”

“So, what’s the bad news?”

“Here’s the catch-22. The more you eat, the faster your hunger will grow. You’ll need to eat sooner and sooner after each... ‘meal’. Until it reaches a breaking point where you simply can’t catch up with the hunger. This is really a bad deal, Jack.”

“Probably should have stayed dead,” I muttered.

She grimaced. “Don’t say that.”

My heart sank. “So what do we do?”

“There are some things we can do to slow the process.” She pointed to a passage in the book, her finger tracing over the ancient, cracked leather. The page was filled with dark, twisted symbols. “Turns out health potions don’t work the same for you as they do for the living, but they aren’t totally worthless. They have a key ingredient that can help—black root. We need that. And a lot of it. I bought up all I could get my hands on this morning.”

She shoved a large cup of blue-black tar into my face. I noticed the piles surrounded by other dishes and a mess. It looked like a mad scientist had a field day here. The concoction hummed with a faint blue glow as she handed it to me.

“This will calm the hunger. Takes the edge off. But you’re going to need to drink this regularly.”

I stared at her, feeling the hunger clawing at my insides, more beast than craving. I drank it. It tasted awful, which was a surprise, as nothing had been tasting like much of anything lately. But I felt pressure easing off, and my mind stopped spinning.

She stared at me, tension radiating off her like a live wire. I let the silence stretch out, feeling my senses return. I allowed another beat to pass before I snarled and made my eyes go wild.

She jumped back, yanking out a gun from who-knows-where, and pointed it right at my face. Her eyes were glossy with tears, but her hands were steady.

I threw up my hands, laughing despite myself. “I’m sorry! It worked, okay? I feel better!”

She narrowed her eyes, keeping the gun trained on me, clearly weighing whether or not to put a hole in my head. Finally, she lowered the weapon, but just as I started to breathe again, her fist came out of nowhere and clocked me in the jaw.

“Don’t you ever pull that crap again!”

I was on the floor, holding my jaw, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright. Bad timing. It won’t happen again.”

You’re a bad person, Jack.

I snorted, rubbing my sore face. Calling the cauldron black, Frank.