I was excited, but it wouldn’t do to let the human see. To let Nelly see. I walked away slowly across the less than appetizing river area, spinning the smallest spell so a breeze would streak through my hair for the strands to catch starlight. Hopefully, Nelly was watching.

When I was out of sight, I turned and doubled back though I made sure not to get to close. It wouldn’t do for Nelly to hear me. I pulled out my phone to call Metatron.

“I told you going to a Dracula book club was a stupid idea. You didn’t have to call me to tell me I’m right,” the angel said.

Elation made me lick my lips. There were stairs that led from the embankment back to street level, and from where I was, closer to the foot of the bridge and hidden well within its shadow, I could see the necromancer head for those stairs, hang his head and head back to the zombie before pulling out his phone. The call connected quickly. I wondered who was on the other end.

“I’m not calling about that. I’m calling to inform you that I think we should remodel. It’s time. Get rid of all the old crap, the silly chandeliers, the velvet, the gold. We’re updating.”

On the other end, my angel went silent. “Did they break you? You said you wanted the place to look like Dracula’s castle. Did they break you at that book club meeting?”

“Hm. No, it’s not that. It’s just that the way the house looks was cute for a minute, and now I want something a little less last century.”

I could practically hear her eyebrows frown. “Lucy, I have been begging you to let me get rid of that sex throne. Just to clarify, you want me to get rid of that too?”

The necromancer brushed the front of his ratty hoodie absently while putting his phone away. That wouldn’t help at all. The smell of rot was strong in the zombie juice that he had bled all over it, and getting it out of cotton would have been the kind of thing that would have gotten Trony really mad, probably at me.

“Throw out the damn sex chair.”

She was silent for almost five seconds. Then, “What happened to you?”

A grin spread over my face. I could feel it stretch my cheeks. “I found something I want.”

“Ah, fuck. Why do I have to suffer because of that?”

“You get to throw out the sex chair because of that. Don’t complain.”

“Do I want to know?”

I considered. When Trony organized an orgy, she went for the uncomplicated crowd of attendees. Easy on the eyes, easy to please. Easy to say yes to being pleased. The necromancer down there had told me to “shut the fuck up.” I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

“I don’t think you need to know yet.”

I heard a long exhale from her. “If it’s a nun or some other kind of believer—”

“Nope, not a nun. You didn’t think there’d be nuns at the Dracula book club, did you?”

“I do not presume to know anything about that weird book you’re so obsessed with nor the weird books nuns are obsessed with. Fine, don’t tell me.”

“It’s a he,” I said, speaking in a low voice. I’d crept closer to Nelly again clinging to the shadows. He’d pulled the sleeves of his sweater down, apparently in an attempt to keep his hands warm. It was cute.

“I said don’t tell me.”

“I love to disobey.”

“You love having the last word. Look, I need to go and light your sex throne on fire before you get home and change your mind. Bye.”

The angel hung up on me. That was fine. I was busy anyway watching the human watch the zombie and savoring the fact he’d allowed me to give him a nickname. It was a tenuous bond, but a bond all the same. Looking at the pretty necromancer who was freezing out there, it was enough to get him to throw himself at me before the week was out, I was sure of that.

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