Ana handed the filled paperwork back to the manager of the grocery store. He took it and smiled at her. “Great. I’ll call you in a week or two to let you know if you got the job or not.”
She nodded and turned away from him. Grocery shopping seemed easy compared to filling out an application for a job as a minimum wage cashier. Comparing prices for laundry detergent was better than explaining why there was a rather large 6-year gap in her resume, anyways.
She turned the corner into the breakfast aisle and came face to face with Deacon. His eyes widened and his smile brightened, but Ana took one look at his store uniform and brushed past him.
“Not happy to see me?” He followed close behind her, tossing a toilet paper roll from hand to hand.
“If I knew you worked here I wouldn’t have a applied for a job. I think seeing you once a week is enough for me.” She perused the shelf of cereals as he stood beside her. “What do you need a job for, anyway?”
“Got bored, just like you.”
She glanced at him and eyed his wrinkled uniform. “I’m not bored. I needed money, and an excuse to get out of the house. I doubt you’re just bored.”
He let out a short whistle and backed away a few steps. “Somebody woke up grumpy this morning!”
She grabbed a box of Fanny Pans and walked out of the aisle. Much to her annoyance, Deacon followed behind her. “Leave me alone, Deacon, or I’ll tell your boss you’re harassing a customer.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t do that, especially after the nice night we had.” He commented as she reached into the freezer and grabbed a carton of milk.
She gave him a small smile before walking past him. “We’re in public. Act like it.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Alright, fine. Don’t admit it. I’ll see you…next Friday?”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
—_—
She exited the store and stuffed the groceries into the back seat of her dingy truck. Not hers, no. Her dad’s. The faded blue machine could never be hers, just as the house was still his. She was just using them until she died, too.
Just as she was about to hop into her truck, a small old lady approached her, a purse hanging from her arm. Mrs. Montgomery was a friend of her dad’s, and one of the few who willingly talked to Ana. Although the senior often annoyed her with church invitations, she always made her feel remembered on holidays.
“Oh, Analiese! I haven’t seen you in awhile. How have you been?” Mrs. Montgomery gave her a warm, wrinkled smile, and Ana felt bad for wanting nothing more than to already be done with this conversation.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the truck. “I’m good. Just looking around town for a job. My mother has been nagging me to do something.”
The old woman waved a nonchalant hand in the air. “Oh, I’m sure she is just concerned for you. Margaret was always an anxious creature.”
She nodded silently and looked away. Both of her parents had grown up in Morganwood, but moved away after college when her mother became pregnant with Ana. Her parent’s relationship ended shortly after she was born, and she was raised by her human dad for the first sixteen years of her life. Her dad moved back to Morganwood after he inherited the house, but her mother stayed in Livernville. She didn’t have custody, but always visited on holidays and birthdays. Ana felt unwanted by her as a child, until she met her real father for the first time and grew to learn why her mother was so determined to keep her away. She was just fine with her human dad, Alex Kravens, who always smelled like clay dust and oranges, who always had a warm smile on his face, and who supported her no matter what mistake she made. Her demonic father could never be like him. He was a creature. A cold, unfeeling person. A thing.
“Yes, you’ve told me before,” Ana replied. “It was nice talking to you, but I need to get these groceries home.”
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Mrs. Montgomery smiled and placed a hand on my arm. “It was so nice to see you, sweetie. I know you haven’t been to church in years, but we would welcome you with open arms if you ever decided to come back.”
Ana gave her a strained smile. “Yes. I’m sure.”
She smiled again before waddling off, clutching her purse. Ana immediately dropped her smile and opened the door to her truck.
“Old woman…” She inserted her keys and turned them. The truck coughed before coming alive, sounding like an old coal miner. Ana sighed and rested her head on the steering wheel. Every time I come into town, somebody has to nag me about something or other, as if they can’t tell I willingly choose solitude over community. She raised her head from the steering wheel and pulled the stick into drive. Good riddance.
—_—
Ana closed the fridge door and sighed. Gardening done. Groceries done. She turned around. Now, about that—
She jumped in the air and took a few steps back, bumping into the fridge. Marchosias had appeared right behind her, as still and silent as a statue.
She relaxed, or at least tried to. Her heart was beating rapidly, and wouldn’t stop. She took a deep breath and looked her father up and down. “What? Did you forget something?”
He raised his head and looked down at her. “A polite way to greet your father.”
She scoffed and walked around him. “I’ll start being polite when you start paying rent. What do you want?”
“There are cambions wandering close to the town.”
Her hands hesitated on the cabinet before she opened it. A blanket of silence fell before them before Ana started giggling.
“Cambions? In a small town? What could they possibly want here? Church sermons?” She said, sifting through her tea cabinet. “Maybe some home-grown tomatoes?”
“Be serious. A small town is a perfect place for a cambion to do their dirty business. Once they learn that you’re here, they’ll find you and kill you. Less competition, that way.” Marchosias replied.
She grabbed a box of orange spice tea and slowly shook her head. “I can hardly believe another cambion would see me as competition or a threat. I’m barely one as it is.”
She was a cambion, a first-born one at that. Most cambions, however, were merely descendants of demons. Marchosias claimed that being a first-born had given her more prestige than all the other cambions, but she has never been able to test that theory. Supposedly, cambions stayed away from first-borns, knowing if they harmed them in any way they could invoke the wrath of the demonic parent. She had met two other cambions before, and they had very nearly killed her for what she was. If she had prestige and honor, it didn’t mean anything to them.
She watched Marchosias from the corner of her eye. He stood still, hands at his side. He watched her she filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave.
“Does it matter? They’ll find any reason to kill you.”
Ana clicked her tongue. “That’ll be a nice reprieve. At least you wouldn’t have me to deal with me anymore.”
Silence, again. Even more silence as Ana took the mug of hot water out of the microwave and dipped the tea bags inside. The silence unsettled her. Maybe she shouldn’t have said what she said. She had never known Marchosias to lose his temper, but that was just as scary as having a father who did.
She left the mug on the counter and slowly turned to Marchosias. He was staring, as he always does, his face placid and emotionless. The clock in the living room ticked away as they stared at each other. Ana opened her mouth—
The sound of ceramic shattering and exploding erupted in the living room. Ana recoiled and drew back from the sound. After a few seconds of silence, she looked over the breakfast bar and into the living room. A white cloud of dust covered the area, but once it settled she saw the destruction. Ceramic shards and dust covered the floor and walls, coating everything in a tan-white color. There was also a smattering of gray close to the mantel, slowly mixing in with the ceramic dust as it spread outward. Her grandfather’s urn had exploded, and the ashes were everywhere.
She whipped around to Marchosias with a furious gaze. “What the hell is your problem, huh?! Are you that fucking insane to ruin my entire living room over a goddamn joke?”
He walked closer and leaned in. “Pay attention when I speak. I don’t want any sarcastic comments or jokes, you understand?”
Ana face twisted into a scowl. “Fuck off. I’ve known raging toddlers to have a better temper then you.”
She walked around him and into the living room. “Fucking fantastic. Wait until mom hears about this one!”
“I’m being serious,” He followed her. “Do you or do you not understand?”
She waved her hands in exasperation. “I understand! now fix my fucking living room!”
He glared at her for a moment before waiving his hand. All the dust and ceramic shards swirled into a circle before retreating back to the fireplace mantel. The urn was returned back to it’s original state, along with the ashes.
Ana sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Okay. Fine. I’ll look out for the fucking cambions. But I haven’t seen anything except for an animal in the woods.”
He tilted his head slightly as he examined her. “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously.”
“No, I’m not.” She walked over to the couch and picked up a pillow that had fallen. “I haven’t seen a cambion in years. You know that. They don’t come to this town, it’s too out of the way.”
She threw the pillow back onto the couch and adjusted the orange quilt hanging off the back. Her jaw tightened when Marchosias fell silent again. She quickly turned back to him and gave him her full attention.
“It’s the Motloe brothers.”
My legs almost lost balance. My hand reached for the back of the couch, slipping once before grabbing onto it. Marchosias doesn’t joke. He never jokes. Why would he say that, then? The Motloes were dead. They’ve been dead for 6 years. He told her so himself. Killed during the incident when they were teenagers.
“You’re lying.” Ana managed to squeak out. He slowly shook his head.
“You are,” She insisted. “You told me they were dead. You killed them before taking me to the hospital.”
“I thought I did. I had no idea their bodies were taken by another demon.”
I raised my eyebrows. “They were revived? By who?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It matters that they are stalking around the town’s border and you need to stay within the town.”
She scoffed and crossed her arms. “I have shit to do. You can’t tell me where to go.”
“What, party? Get blackout drunk? I think it’s best you stay in this town and feel grateful I’m not putting you on house arrest.”
Ana bit back a sarcastic remark and instead twitched her nose. “Fine. Whatever. See you next week.”
His eye twitched. He appeared as if he was about to say something else, but instead he disappeared in a cloud of purple mist.
Ana collapsed onto the couch, letting her body sink into the plush cushions. The Motloes were back, which could only spell trouble. Her gaze turned to the wall of family photos, her eyes landing on a picture of her human dad and kid version of her on Halloween. But why did my father think they were dead this whole time? He doesn’t make mistakes like that. He may be annoying, but he is also a meticulous and thorough man.
Why did he lie?