“Rosier,” I beckoned, holding open the door to the diner. The morning had swept in with a craving for waffles topped with strawberries and whipped cream. Something the Redding diner made better than any other place I’d tried it in my years away. I had had dreams about the powdered sugar and dash of cinnamon. Rosier, the handsome demon who accompanied me now had not been a part of these dreams.

Rosier raked a hand through his hair, pushing his dark curls back before jogging to catch up to me. It was like taking a puppy around, he had to stop and sniff everything. I waited, still holding the door open, and tried to swallow whatever was blocking my throat. As he passed me I felt my muscles tense although I couldn’t pinpoint why. It was like he knew the effect he had on me and grinned as he passed. Was it some kind of aura? Something more sinister that only I could sense but couldn’t see? I knew what he was but the second we made eye contact I couldn’t remember the countless hours of research I had poured into understanding demons. It was still filed in my head, probably under a tab that read: DANGER. That still didn’t stop my gaze from lingering on his lean frame as he walked in front of me and slid into the first booth next to the window. I shook my head and caught up to him.

The diner had been a homestead for me growing up in this town. It was small, lined with windows on one side and flush with sunlight. The counter ran along the length of the other wall. The restaurant was shaped like a large corridor, almost like a tube. Red vinyl covered most of the surfaces with a silver metallic finish. The same design as when it opened. I could see myself with my sister, Maggie, at each of the booths throughout different points in our lives. Her with crayons and a coloring book, me trying to understand 7th-grade Algebra. I could see myself with friends after Prom, clad in our gowns sipping milkshakes and sharing fries. Maggie wearing a sweater and jeans, showing us the pictures she had taken of us before the dance. I could see myself snuggled into one corner of that booth, with my old boyfriend’s arm tucked snuggly around me. The smile I had when he kissed me. But that led to memories of leaving him. On his porch in the rain. To him it had been a goodbye until tomorrow, to me it had been goodbye forever. I had left town that same day. I shook my head again to clear it and slid into the booth across from Rosier.

“Is this step one?” He asked. I furrowed my brow and pulled menus from behind the ketchup and salt shakers, placing one in front of both of us.

“Step one of what?” I asked, flipping it open even though I had it memorized.

“Our investigation.” He lowered his voice to a mock whisper. He bore an annoying grin that was becoming familiar all too quickly. There was something I didn’t trust about it… almost a smirk. Something behind his eyes always seemed to be mocking me. His mouth seemed to naturally curl at the corners. His lips looked soft…

“You shouldn’t be treating this like a game,” I said with a huff. “It’s my sister’s life, Rosier.” The reality of it felt distant from even me, and the words fell flat coming out of my mouth. It wasn’t a lie, it was just a truth I hadn’t exactly accepted yet. If I did then I could crumble and I couldn’t find her if I was in pieces.

“Fine… but is it?” He pushed. I met his gaze and his eyes sparkled with intrigue. Enthusiasm could be good, as long as he wasn’t going overboard. At least he wasn’t still meeting me with resistance. I had threatened his existence on Earth, he should be doing cartwheels for my approval. As the person who summoned him, I could easily take away the summons and send him hurtling back to Hell. He didn’t know that I actually wasn’t entirely sure how to do that. I briefly pondered the idea of Rosier relaxing in Hell. Pina Coladas by the lava pits? I had no idea if Hell itself was even within the penumbra of my perception. For all I knew, it could be empty. Nothingness. I didn’t want Rosier tumbling through that- as obnoxious as he was. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“The first step? I was planning on talking to some locals while we’re-” He was already rising from his seat, casting glances around at the patrons in the diner. I shot out a hand, clapping it on his shoulder and gently pushing him back down into his seat. “No-no. I’ll do the talking. You’re just my muscle, alright? If I need you, I’ll get you. Stay still.”

“I’m more than a pretty face, I can play detective too, Angel.” My hand curled into a claw and my nails bit into his skin, through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“You can not call me that. Especially not in public!” I hissed. He rolled his eyes, slumping into his seat. “I’ll be right back. Do not move, Rosier.” He pouted. Like a child. Now, I was rolling my eyes.

I stood and approached the counter. Roy stood behind it, rubbing a wet cloth on a particularly stubborn spot. I had always associated Roy with Santa Clause. With his large belly and rosy cheeks. He had always looked over Maggie and me, considering all the time we had spent there, avoiding going home. Roy was definitely acquainted with the most people in our small town. They had all come through at some point or another, sat at one of his stools, chatting with him while munching on a burger or occasionally venting a tearful story over a glass of the bourbon that Roy kept stashed under the counter. Just for some of the regulars.

“Hey Roy,” I said, taking a seat at one of the stools. His face almost split in half with his wide smile.

“Miss Clara, what a sight for sore eyes, you are.” He pulled the rag across the counter, approaching me, and leaving a small snail trail of sanitizer across its surface.

“It’s nice to see you, too.” I smiled back at him, although mine was tenser.

“A bit odd seeing you out so early at the beach, this morning. The last thing I expected when I went fishing was to catch you!” He chuckled. I shrugged, laughing tentatively.

“Just out for a jog with a friend.” I tried the lie on for size and hoped he didn’t push much more. I hadn’t been wearing athletic wear, I definitely had a crazed look in my eye. It didn’t really add up. He stared blankly for just a moment. Maybe just a moment too long before smiling again.

“How are you? How was the big city? New York, I hear? Happening place…” Roy shot question after question, but I wasn’t there to chat. He wanted the scoop, most likely for the other patrons that would ask to have the gossip relayed to them later. In such a small town, I was sure that my return would be a hot topic. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time or interest to update Roy on my tumultuous life. Especially when most of his questions were just based on outlandish gossip.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Roy- I know everyone must be talking about…” I swallowed and he nodded slowly, knowing the question before I asked. “My sister. What can you tell me?” He exhaled slowly and looked down at the rag in his hands, fiddling with it.

“All I really know are rumors. Nothing real concrete. Just what people are saying.” He sounded resigned. Surely he was as worried as I was.

“And what are the people saying?” I pushed.

“That she ran off to get married, joined the circus, that…”

“That what?” I raised my brows.

“That she ran off to find you.” I prickled at that.

“Just rumour.” My voice dropped an octave. He shrugged.

“That’s what I said.”

“No one thinks it was foul play?” I urged him to continue. He gave me a look and almost laughed.

“Not at all. Maggie has been… quite the attention-getter since you left. This wouldn’t be the first stunt like this that she’s pulled. I’m sure she’ll come sulking back any day now.”

“It’s been weeks, Roy.” I protested. He waved a hand, dissipating my words like smoke. I guess he wasn’t concerned.

“Maggie will be Maggie. Maybe try talking to her friends if you’re really worried. Maybe they know something that the rest of us don’t.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to call Marie and Jonah.” I said quietly. The truth was I didn’t have their phone numbers anymore. Or their social media. I had fallen off the grid a bit. I had been surprised that the police hadn’t called to tell me Maggie had gone missing at all. To interview me or something. To ask if I’d seen her even though I hadn’t spoken to her in weeks. Maybe months.

“The Boseman twins?” Oh, they moved out of town ages ago. Maggie hands out with that nice group of girls now, what were their names? They were your age…” He tapped his chin pensively.

“Not… Annabeth and those girls, right?” I asked the question quietly, praying that I was wrong.

“Yes! Those nice girls!” He replied, snapping his fingers. A pit dropped in my stomach.

“Those are not nice girls, Roy.” I sighed. He shrugged again.

“I can never keep up the all that gossip.” Yes, he could. And he loved it.

“Does Annabeth still work here?” I asked.

“Sure does, she should be here for her shift in…” He turned and checked the clock hanging on the wall above the bar. “Well- ten minutes ago. She won’t have a job much longer if she can’t be more punctual.”

“Great, thanks, Roy.” He nodded just as a customer sitting further down the counter waved him over, holding an empty mug. Roy grabbed the coffee pot and ambled towards the patron.

I turned back towards Rosier to find that he had popped the lids off the salt and pepper and poured them into tiny piles on top of his menu. A waitress who couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen stood in front of our table, anxiously scratching her head with her pen, notepad in hand. Her unruly curls were pulled back in a tight ponytail. It reminded me of early mornings before school, wrestling Maggie’s same curls into pigtails or braids. The thought of Maggie being antagonized by a patron like Rosier infuriated me. I hurried back and slid into my seat.

“Hi!” I said a little too brightly. The waitress seemed to relax, seeing me before recognition flashed in her eyes.

“Clara Castillo?” She asked, raising her eyebrows so high, I thought they would scrape her hairline. “I thought-...” She didn’t finish the thought that was probably either preposterous or rude, fueled by the town’s gossip.

“Yeah, I’m back.” I said hurriedly. “We’ll just take two coffees- black. And two orders of the Belgian waffles with whipped cream and all that jazz on top. Thanks-” I checked her nametag. “Natalie.” I smiled sweetly, urging her to retreat. Rosier looked at her with hungry eyes. Like a cat playing with a canary. He liked watching her squirm.

“Got it.” She let out a breath and wrote down the order and she stepped away. I turned towards Rosier with a scowl.

“What did you say to her?” I asked. He suppressed a smile, he knew he’d been caught and he liked it.

“I was just teasing. I asked if she drew on her freckles. Among other things.” I stared at him harder. Physically, he looked about my age. I was teetering on my 21st year but he was a demon, he could be teetering on his second millennium. I hoped to God- or the devil, that he hadn’t tried to flirt with our young waitress.

“Why do you look so young?” I asked abruptly. The question caught him off guard and I watched him blink blankly at me before regaining his playful rhythm.

“What do you mean?” He pushed for more. He wanted me to make a mistake. I considered my words carefully.

“You aren’t… what I expected… for a demon,” I said decidedly. Then I leaned back, already calculating my next move. I could see that Rosier liked playing games, making people squirm, he enjoyed having the upper hand and so he would subtly find a foothold so he could gain that position. It was diabolical in a high school mean girl kind of way but considering his background, this game of his could quickly change into something dangerous. I couldn’t let him toy with me, I needed to understand his moves and why he was choosing them. I needed to figure him out before he figured me out.

“What part of me was unexpected?” He cocked his head knowingly. He wanted me to call him handsome. I could tell at that moment. In an attempt to corner me into a compliment he would push me to blush, to fidget, to lose my footing. I wondered if he was always so transparent. Now I smiled because there was an easy way around his question.

“Well- what I had expected was horns. Maybe a tail. Definitely not cargo shorts. At least six feet tall in height.” I let the light jab hang in the air. He froze. That wasn’t the response he expected. Now I understood how it felt to wear that annoying grin.

“These are not cargo shorts.” He gestured to tan slacks. “Clara, my appearance is entirely dependent on you. If this is what you wanted, then it is how I appear. Also- I am absolutely six feet tall.” He huffed. There. He had given something away. Suddenly his grin returned which startled me enough to drop my matching one. “You’re teasing me, little bird?” He was enjoying the banter. I sucked in my bottom lip. He was quick to see through my antics too. It had been fun to push his buttons, though.

“Enough with the nicknames. You appeared how… I wanted you to?” What did that mean? He stroked his chin with mock pensiveness. I couldn’t help the way my eyes trailed that sharp jawline. Then up to his lips. Soft and full. Then to his eyes which pierced right through me. He was reading me at that moment. I didn’t have to call him handsome out loud, he could see it in my eyes. And suddenly, he was winning again.

I thought I was playing him but he was still pulling the strings. I had read that demons were tricky. That they enjoyed turmoil. Somehow I thought it would be easier to maneuver.

“You wanted tall, dark, and handsome, so here I am.” He grinned. It was infuriating. “Have you been a bit lonely, bird?” I felt another blush threaten my cheeks.

“No!” But my voice squeaked and he leaned back knowing he had won.

“If you need someone to get you through those cold nights, I can most definitely be that guy. Anything for my partner.” He winked. “For the investigation.” I stood. His eyes followed me. I pulled some cash from my bag and dropped in on the end of the table.

“Rosier.” I said through my teeth. “Learn to shut up.” I started towards the door.

“Where are you going?” He twisted in his seat, watching me go.

“I’ll be outside, enjoy your breakfast.” I burst through the door with a jingle from the bell overhead.