Kael’s POV

The human stirred, mumbling absolute gibberish, dried-up spit crusted on his cheek.

Honestly? I wanted to lob a fireball at him just for existing.

But alas, I can’t.

I need him alive, or else I’ll get yanked straight back to hell. And I am not planning on returning any time soon.

I sighed, bit into my flat bread thingy, and stared bleakly at my “future prospects.” Which, let’s recap for the audience:

A drunk, broke, clearly novice summoner.

No idea how long I can even stay in the human realm.

No clue what this clown might actually request of me.

Truly, my five-hundred-year vacation was off to a stellar start.

The human finally stirred enough to haul his upper body off the floor, squinting as the sun smacked him square in the face like a personal insult.

His loose curls fanned across his features as he scanned the room, brain obviously still buffering.

Then his gaze landed on me.

He paused.

Squinted.

Stared harder.

Clarity dawning.

And. Then. He. Screamed.

Not just screamed, screamed.

Like, Olympic level, no breath, horror movie screaming.

I could practically feel my eardrums filing for workers comp.

Honestly, the demons in the eighth circle had better pitch.

Every second made the fireball option more tempting.

A vein throbbed in my forehead. I stood up from my seat, a slice still in hand, and stomped toward him.

“Will you shut the f*ck up?” I hissed, trying trying to soften my annoyance. This was my summoner, after all. Gotta keep things professional.

But before I could say another word, his eyes rolled back.

And he fainted.

…He. F*cking. Fainted.

I stared down at him, dumbfounded.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, tossing my half-eaten bread stuff onto the table.

“Five hundred years in hell, and I get this guy. Passed out like a Victorian maiden. I should just roast him and call it a day.”

Noah’s POV

The moment I woke, I shot upright.

My bones felt like soggy noodles, my eyes dry and itchy, my brain screaming. But I didn’t care.

I scanned the room, hyper-alert, praying that what I’d seen earlier was nothing more than a hangover-induced fever dream.

From where I sat, the room looked empty. Relief trickled in until I heard movement beside me. I nearly fell off the couch I didn’t even remember lying on.

“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s just me,” Kathleen said, stepping out of my blind spot.

She pressed aspirin and water into my hand like the absolute angel she is. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover, but good,” I croaked after swallowing the pill. “What are you doing up here this early? What about the store?”

Kathleen gave me a flat look, then smacked my shoulder.

Once.

Twice.

Several times.

She only stopped after my pathetic whining convinced her I was suffering enough.

“First of all, it’s two in the afternoon.”

At that, I bolted upright, my fake relaxed posture vanishing. Kathleen noticed immediately and gave me that look.

“And second, the store can survive without me for a few hours. What mattered was hearing you scream like a banshee. When I rushed up, you were passed out on the floor. What the hell happened?”

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. “I don’t know how to explain.”

“Well, start from the beginning.”

So I did.

Every detail.

I told her about Jamie’s condition worsening.

About the desperate drinking.

About the strange book.

About the circle.

About the figure I thought I’d seen.

I didn’t hold anything back.

Kathleen’s face morphed from shock to horror to concern to guilt.

By the time I finished, she looked like she’d swallowed glass.

“I’m so sorry about Jamie,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have made you drink.”

I shook my head, cutting her off. “It’s not your fault. Even if I’d been sober, there was nothing I could’ve done.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Thanks, dude. And for what it’s worth… when I came up here, I saw no one.”

Relief washed over me. Maybe it really had been the alcohol. Maybe I’d imagined all of it.

“Get some sleep,” she continued. “I’ll come back later with food. I left hangover soup on the counter—help yourself. I’m off.”

I nodded weakly. “Bye, Kathleen.”

The door clicked shut, and silence swallowed the room whole.

Heavy.

Too heavy.

It pressed in, reminding me how utterly alone I was.

“Whew,” a sarcastic voice drawled beside me. “I thought that would never end.”

This time, I did fall off the couch.