Naomi was so anxious to cross town as quickly as possible that she very nearly unfurled her wings after all. Instead she took a cab.

She rode the elevator to the top floor of Darby’s Atlantic Ave apartment building, fiddling with her own fingers, heart in knots. It was definitely a mistake to come to Darby, of all people, for advice, but the circumstances had become too specific to rely on anyone else. Her angel brethren would never have approved of her taking a familiar in the first place, Elijah would only scorn, and even if there were a few demons in her acquaintance that knew the ins and outs of humans and magic, none could be trusted. She wouldn’t dare expose Miriam to the dangers of Hell’s curiosity.

He’s just going to say again that I should tell her, Naomi thought even as she rapped on the door. Which isn’t helpful at all. Unless...maybe he can convince me this time that it would work. She stared hard at the door, only just realizing she had been too preoccupied with her concerns to scry on him before coming, if only to make sure he was at home at all. He’s a liar, though, so if he says I really should, can I trust that at all?  She speculated herself into an anxious stupor and jumped when the door finally opened.

Darby stood on the other side, dressed in a casual sweater vest and slacks. He regarded her with cool surprise which very quickly slid into cool amusement. Naomi didn’t like it one bit. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “What timing.”

“Is this a bad time?” Naomi asked, even though she desperately hoped that Darby wouldn’t ask her to leave. When he stepped back to let her enter, she did so. It wasn’t until she was past the threshold with the door closing behind her that she fully registered that he had company, and that it was the very last person she could have hoped to see.

She had changed a lot since the last time Naomi had seen her—still tall, but narrow and angular, with pale skin and short, almost platinum blond hair—but the eyes were the same. Wherever she went, her lavender eyes flashed like jewels, and Naomi would never mistake them. For the briefest moment as they met each other’s stare, there was surprise and trepidation in her face; so brief in fact, that the smirk that followed convinced Naomi she had imagined it entirely.

“Gremory,” Naomi said, breathless and pinned into place like a moth to a specimen board.

“Caught me.” She was reclining deeply on Darby’s chaise lounge in a sleek, cream-colored blouse, a champagne flute in her hand, easy as a queen surveying her domain. “I’m going by Georgie, now. It’s Naomi, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Naomi gulped, mind full of static. She couldn’t remember why she’d come here in the first place. Why oh why hadn’t she thought to scry on Darby first! “You’ve changed.”

Georgie chuckled. “And you haven’t changed at all.”

“Champagne?” Darby offered. 

He had to pick Naomi’s hand up himself and fit the glass into it, but once he had, Naomi held it, barely even aware. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from Georgie, who in turn was watching her closely. Once her glass was full Darby nudged her toward a chair, and like a puppet she allowed it. She sat down as he retook his own chair and his own drink closer to Georgie.

“My, isn’t this a lark,” he said, eyeing the pair of them. “Together again.” He lifted his glass in a toast and drank.

Georgie did the same, but still Naomi could only stare. Her wits were very slowly returning to her, and she became painfully aware of how easily Georgie might steal the truth of why she’d come from her mind. She had always seen straight through her, except for that one time it had mattered most.

“Sorry to intrude,” said Naomi, at last tearing her focus away to fix on Darby. “I didn’t know you had a guest.”

“No? Why, here I thought that was the very reason you are here.” Darby arched a curious eyebrow. “Is that not your one true gift, after all?”

“Yes, well…” Oh, I should have agreed with him. Naomi’s fingers twisted anxiously around the stem of her glass. I can’t say why I’m here in front of her. But if I did say I came for her...then I’d have to think of a reason for that! She squirmed and started to get back up. “I can come back another time.”

“We were just talking about you,” said Georgie, stopping her in her tracks. “Darby here says you’ve been fraternizing with humans again.”

Darby waved dismissively. “I would never,” he retorted. “That’s far too close to the truth, and you know how I feel about that.”

Naomi gulped. She wanted nothing more than to get out, but she couldn’t bring herself to retreat until she knew just how much Darby had let slip. Cursing herself for ever having gone to him for help in the first place, she retook her seat. “Like you said,” she replied carefully, “I haven’t changed much.”

Georgie frowned and tried to cover it by taking a sip of her champagne. “It’s at least a little different when Elijah is skulking about though, isn’t it?” 

“Elijah does not skulk.”

“I agree,” rejoined Darby. “He’s as tall as a lamp post—hardly within his nature to be inconspicuous.”

Georgie gave him a side-eye. “You’re the one who invited me here to gossip about what he’s being so secretive about. Unless you’re objecting specifically to the word ‘skulk’?”

“Yes, precisely that.”

 I have to know what she knows, Naomi thought, her eyes darting between them. If Darby already told her it’s Miriam...she’ll ruin everything. I’ll have to give up and find someone else. She took a sip from the champagne just to smother the bitterness threatening to show in her face. The last thing she wants is to see me succeed. “I know you’re both very curious, but it’s really not  your business if I want to have a familiar. Your kind do it plenty.”

Darby sipped his champagne, while once again Georgie’s usually impeccable composure lapsed, however briefly—could it really have been concern that darkened those lavender eyes of hers, before she was able to paste the smug superiority back into place? “And Elijah is...okay with that?” she asked with increasingly blatant curiosity. “I thought Heaven’s Decree outlawed that a century ago.”

“Not that you would know,” Naomi replied before she could stop herself, and that time there was no doubting or mistaking the coldness that dug into Georgie’s expression then. “But yes, Elijah has already approved my choice, even. A very fine young man who I’m hoping you’ll stay away from.”

Naomi was not a skilled liar by far, but all she hoped for in that moment was to determine just how much Darby might have revealed. If he had already told Georgie all about Miriam, there was no chance that Georgie would pass up the opportunity to rub it in her face. It wasn’t in her nature to be coy for too long. But Darby didn’t attempt to correct her, and Georgie herself looked too irritated by the news for Naomi to believe he’d said too much after all.

“A man this time?” Georgie brought champagne to her lips. “Fascinating.”

“And so, is that why you’ve come?” Darby suggested. He, on the other hand, was so at ease, Naomi might have believed even he had forgotten about Miriam. “To crow to the lesser class about your good fortune and the strapping young buck now bound to serve you for eternity?” He snorted. “Now that I’ve said it, I must admit I’m a bit jealous.”

“Familiars aren’t worth the trouble,” Georgie retorted. “Trust me.”

She pushed to her feet; as had been the case for millenia, her every movement was graceful almost to a fault, and Naomi could not help but stare. She handed her flute to Darby and carded her fingers affectionately through his curly hair, which he did not respond to. “I think I’ll show myself out. It’s getting a little stuffy in here.”

“If she gives me the boy’s name, by my word you’ll be the first to know,” Darby promised lazily.

Naomi kept very still, holding the champagne in her lap as Georgie swept past her without a second glance. Just when she had reason to hope that might have been the end of their excruciating encounter, Georgie paused at the door. “Watch yourself, Poiel,” she said, and though her tone was teasing, Naomi had always been able to see through her, too. “Taking a human familiar is very different from taking a human lover, no matter how much experience you have with the latter.”

Naomi ducked into her shoulders. “Good to see you too, Gremory.”

Georgie chuckled. “Well, I tried,” she said, and with that she finally left.

Naomi watched her go. In her mind’s eye she scryed on Georgie making her way to the elevator, and it was only once she was safely a floor below that she bounced from her chair. On one breath she downed the champagne and crossed the room to take Georgie’s place on the lounge at Darby’s side. “Why didn’t you tell her?” she demanded.

Darby placed his two flutes aside, not a care in the world. “Tell her what?”

“About...about Miriam, of course!” Naomi leaned closer and lowered her voice, as if there was still a chance Georgie would overhear them somehow. “Did you really not tell her?”

“Ohh, that. Of course not.” Darby cocked his head. “I held back on purpose thinking I might earn more of your trust, so I can talk the rest of your scheme out of you eventually.”

Naomi let out a long sign, but she hadn’t forgotten why she had come, and she was eager to say her peace before any other intruders interrupted them. “You know I can’t. I need your help again, Darby.”

Darby released a long-suffering sigh of his own, though it was decidedly manufactured. “So the book didn’t work.”

“She saw through it immediately!” Unable to sit still, Naomi pushed to her feet and began to pace. “There were a few things I changed on purpose—it would have been too dangerous to keep in intact—but she could tell! And now she’s given up on summoning an angel altogether.”

Darby watched her impassively and made a circular gesture. “Have you considered trying—”

“Don’t suggest I just tell her the truth,” Naomi interrupted, and he leaned deeper into his chair. “I’m not going to—that won’t work.” She stopped pacing so she could face him directly. “Will you please tell her the book is real? You’re the one who gave it to her.”

“My dear, you have always been an inspiration to me,” Darby drawled, and seeing the face she pulled, he quickly added, “And I mean that very kindly. But I’m the playwright, not the actor. It wouldn’t do for me to get involved.”

“But you’re already involved,” Naomi insisted. “You agreed to give it to her in the first place! I just need you to convince her to try again.”

Darby sighed again, and he ran a hand back through his hair to resettle the curls Georgie had mussed. “I suppose...that’s true enough. Though don’t you think she’ll find it a trifle suspicious if I waltz up to her and declare it so?”

“I’ll arrange a meeting.” Naomi returned to the lounge so that she could go back to whispering; Darby watched her hurrying about with bland amusement. “I’ll keep an eye on her, and when she’s out and about somewhere, I’ll tell you where to go—you can just bump into each other.”

“My, how conveniently contrived.”

“Please, Darby. I…” Naomi hesitated, licking her lips, and went through with it. “I’ll do a favor for you, next time you need one.”

Darby’s eyes swiveled toward her, and though his face didn’t change much, his intensity certainly did. “Will you.”

“Yes. I...I promise.” Though Naomi already felt regret creeping up from her fingernails, she clenched her fists tight in determination. “So? Will you do it?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Darby shrugged. “I suppose yes, I will. Though do take care that it’s nowhere unreasonable, whatever this meeting place ends up being. If I’m going to be out in public it might as well be in character.”

“Of course.” Not wanting to push her luck—or wait to see if Darby would invoke the promised favor right away—Naomi returned to her feet. “I’ll call you with the details later. Thank you, Darby!”

“You know,” Darby said as she headed for the door, just like she feared he would. “She really does worry about you still.”

Naomi’s heart gave a heavy pang. Despite her better judgment, she looked back; Darby was reaching again for the champaign, and God help her he looked sincere. But she couldn’t believe that he meant it. It was far too dangerous, even more so if it were true.

“The Cursed Stag always lies,” Naomi replied, and Darby shrugged in acceptance. “But thank you for this. I’ll call you soon.”

Too afraid that Darby might try to reply, she dashed out.