It was a sleepless night. At first Joey played at bedtime, changing into pajama pants and curling up in bed around a pillow. But then cuddling a pillow seemed too much like what he’d been dreaming about doing with Caden, what he’d thought about in this very room like a teenager with a crush. Pillow rejected, he shifted to lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, dimly lit by the streetlight outside, and stayed in that position for hours, thoughts running a mile a minute.
This secret had been the cause for Caden’s rejections all along; everything made sense now. Obviously Caden had liked him back, had returned Joey’s attentions. It was evident now that Caden’s hot-and-cold approach to Joey was because Joey hadn’t known who—what—he really was.
No, who, Joey told himself. No matter how hurt he was he didn’t want to think like Frankie did, that non-humans weren’t people. With a pang he remembered her referring to Caden as ‘it’ behind his back. Whatever Caden’s background, he deserved respect for his personhood.
Whenever Joey thought of Caden’s apologetic eyes in an inhuman face, though, Joey had to resist the urge to throw things. How dare he look for sympathy when he’d been lying to the team—to Joey—this whole time? For months Caden had kept his true identity and motives a secret. Joey had been a fool to buy in; he should have known that Caden was lying, because Mac had been right. What had Caden shared of himself? On their date, he’d let Joey talk and talk and told him nothing of himself.
God, the date. Joey had been so hopeful. Frustrated with himself, Joey rolled over on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, trying to forget the whole mess. His mind just kept flashing back to Caden being kind to him: healing his wound after they’d fought the hellhound. Telling Joey he was smart when they were about to catch the poltergeist at Mrs. Shins’ house. His encouraging words in the back of the van. Falling asleep on Joey’s shoulder…
Joey slipped out of bed and padded on bare feet out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. While the tap ran, he struggled to imagine what ulterior motives Caden could have for seducing Joey. It didn’t make sense; what could Caden have to gain? His interest at least had been genuine.
Which only made it hurt more.
Cold water ran over Joey’s hand and he looked down from where he’d been staring into space to see the glass was running over. Turning off the tap, Joey gulped the water down and put the glass down hard in the sink to wash tomorrow. He resisted the urge to hurl the glass against the wall, because that would be ridiculous.
No need for his glassware to suffer from Joey’s broken heart.
Joey climbed back into his bed and fought with his thoughts until morning.
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The next morning Joey struggled through his routine and dragged himself out of his apartment. Then he blinked and was standing in front of HQ, and realized he’d missed a chunk of time in there.
Joey was early, but Mac was already in the office feeding paper into the ancient fax machine. When Joey stepped in Mac looked up and took in the sight of him. “Hey, kid,” he said softly. Joey blinked heavy eyes at him, not returning the greeting. “Just, uh, sending a request in to Home Office for…for more staff.”
Taking a deep breath, Joey forced himself to respond. “Yeah.”
“We’ve been so busy lately, we’re gonna need—”
“Yeah, I know.”
“We’re lucky we haven’t had an infestation here at HQ, to be honest.” Mac seemed determined to make everything normal again. Standing, he crossed to the safe in the corner and opened it with a touch, peering inside. The music box started playing Waterfalls. “We’re gonna need a top-up on our magic soon. Faxed that request last night. Our shields are getting battered.” The safe closed again with a click and the music stopped.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
This stirred Joey a little from his stupor. “Do we need to be worried?”
Mac waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, we’re good for now. This level of abuse on our shields, we’ll be good for another couple of months with the artifacts we have. That watch is powerful, really strong magic.”
“Do you think Home Office will send another—” No, it wasn’t ‘another’, was it? Home Office hadn’t sent Caden. “—will send a Channeler?”
Mac didn’t acknowledge Joey’s slip. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Just hope it’s someone with experience. Hey, maybe they’ll send two,” he joked.
Joey forced a quiet laugh, then managed to ask, “So everything’s just like it was now?” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “We’re not going to talk about it?”
Mac was silent for a long moment, just watching Joey with a mournful look in his eyes. Then to Joey’s shock, Mac stepped forward and pulled Joey into a hug.
After a few seconds, Joey tentatively wrapped his arms around Mac, leaning down into the embrace. Mac’s grip was firm. “You don’t hug people,” Joey observed, resisting the urge to drop his head onto Mac’s solid shoulder.
“Making an exception.”
“Thanks,” breathed Joey. Mac slapped him a few times on the back, solidly, and pulled back, clearing his throat. Joey let him go, already feeling the loss of Mac’s comfort.
Mac retreated behind his desk and sat down, chair creaking as usual. There remained a couple of bites of cheese Danish on a paper plate on the desk, and Mac took a bite, chewing and swallowing, before he spoke again. “You know I’ve always been married to this job.”
Joey nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“I never had time for—for a wife and that. For…you know.”
Before Mac had time to finish his thought, the back door clanked open and Indira sang out a “Hello!”
The day began.
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It was a slog that day, even more so than it had been. Frankie was snappish, Joey’s hands were sore under his bandages, and even Indira’s enthusiasm was dampened by everyone’s sour moods. Due to their understaffing, Mac joined them for the first three gigs of the day, often shutting Frankie down harshly when she started to bring up the elephant in the room.
Joey could see how clear it was to everyone how much he was not ready to be back in the field. Everybody was tired, but he was more exhausted than the others, and he dealt with it by retreating into himself. Whereas before he’d been somewhat taking charge on their assignments, now he stepped back for the real Planner: Mac. Even when Mac ducked out after helping them deal with an imp in someone’s attic, Joey kept quiet and let Frankie lead.
The easy rhythm the team had developed over the past few months was gone. Indira had to jump in that afternoon with her spiked gloves and she complained profusely about it. Halfway through their encounter with another poltergeist, Joey’s shoulder got wrenched and he wound up wearing a sling on their way back.
“Are you gonna say anything?” Frankie finally demanded of Joey when they were returning from their last gig of the day.
In the passenger seat, Joey played with his fingers in his lap. “No.”
“You cozied up to that goblin when we didn’t know anything about it—”
“God, Frankie, can you just shut up?” snapped Joey.
“Whoa, guys,” said Indira from the backseat.
“No, actually, bro, I’m not gonna shut up! You let that thing—”
“He’s not a thing—”
“And now you’re defending it!”
Indira waved her hands at them. “Guys, enough! Frankie, none of us stopped Caden from joining us! We all believed him, including you—”
“Because it faked its paperwork! And I’m not gonna listen to some child about this. You know I never trusted—”
“Stop the car,” said Joey, voice leaden.
“What the hell, man?”
“Stop the damned car, Frankie.”
With sharp movements, Frankie maneuvered the car into a bus lane at the side of the road. Joey was already releasing his seatbelt and before the car came to a full stop he shoved open his door, stepping out.
“Come on,” protested Frankie.
Joey shook his head, the hand not in a sling in his pocket and not looking at her. “No. I’m done.”
“What, you quitting now? Because I said a few words?”
“I’m not quitting,” he said. “But you need to get over your B.S. I have enough on my plate without listening to your racist crap on top of it.” He finally brought himself to turn back to the car. Frankie’s face was a mask of anger and Indira was watching helplessly from the back. “We get it. You’re pissed. Now move the hell on and stop—making me feel worse. Jesus.” There was a honk from behind the car—a bus was waiting to pull in. “I’m going home.”
Slamming the car door shut, Joey walked away, heading West. They were close to Pilsen—he recognized the neighborhood. He didn’t look back.