He groaned and put his face in his hands.
Steph patted his back. “It’s ok, champ, we all strike out. I bet he’ll be back.”
At that moment their afternoon help came in—a high school kid who was picking up hours whenever possible to save up for a car.
“You’re tired. Go home. Relax. Derek and I can handle the evening rush, and I’ll close up. When you crash and burn that hard, a little time off is necessary,” she smirked.
“Brat,” he said affectionately, but he took off his apron and stuffed it under the cash register, despite the dirty look Steph gave him. He knew she’d hang it up for him, and he felt slightly bad about that, but if he went into the back, he’d find a million things he ought to do instead of going home. And he was tired.
He made his way out the front door and started walking. His house was one that had been handed down through his family, and it was less than a mile from his shop. It was a nice walk where he could clear his head a bit. He didn’t get so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t keep a lookout for a certain gray angel though. Because yes, he had definitely let that whole thing go sideways. Unless Kushiel didn’t even know he was looking for someone to help him? It was hard to tell.
Prophecies were such a pain in the ass sometimes. And this was coming from someone who often received them.
Well, no use worrying about it. Kushiel would be back. He was sure of it. He didn’t have that itch or sense of wrong he sometimes got when he’d really fucked something up. He knew that feeling from when he was young and still learning, and he hadn’t gotten that when Kushiel had left. If he had, he would have run after the angel.
He was at his house before he knew it, and he was distractedly thinking of Kushiel as he put the key in the lock. When he swung open the door though…
It was like he had conjured up that feeling of utter wrongness by thinking about it. It wasn’t quite an itch, likehehad done something wrong. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his fault.
It was like he was doused in a bucket full of doom; he felt like curling up on the floor and crying.
Something was very wrong, and it was inside his house.
He stood on his front stoop for an inordinate amount of time. He knew he’d have to go in eventually, but… it just felt soawful. He wanted to weep, and he had no idea why, but the sadness was real and overwhelming. His body felt like it was crawling with ants—his skin was itchy and too tight. He realized that his hands were fisted so tightly that his fingernails were digging into his skin. He had the urge to just walk away. Leave and not come back.
He stayed there, though, resisting the urge.
He was Cassius Priam, seer, medium, and oracle. He had the gift of sight and astral walking. He had helped thousands of souls in his life, and a feeling, no matter how debilitating, would not stop him from his work.
He took a deep breath and stepped into his house, letting the door close behind him.
His house was old and didn’t have an open floor plan like so many newer houses, and there was a small entrance hall that led into the rest of the downstairs, which included a living room, a half bath, a formal dining room, a large eat-in-kitchen, and a back porch. Stairs were to his right, which led to the bedrooms.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting in the house, but he was not prepared for the sudden appearance of Aunt Ro directly in his path, and he almost shrieked in surprise.
She looked washed out and gray, which was entirely unlike her. She usually appeared in vibrant technicolor—sometimes even more vibrant than realistically possible. She was mutednow, though, and that frightened Cass. Still, he recognized the rue on her ghostly dress.
“For sorrow or repentance, Aunt Ro?” he whispered in question. He wasn’t even sure why he whispered, except it felt like talking too loudly would disturb… something.
She began wringing her hands, looking over her shoulder toward the rest of the house. When she faced him, he saw tears sliding down her cheeks. “Oh Cass, I couldn’t leave it here alone to come and get you. I’m not even sure what you can do to help.”
“What is it, Aunt Ro?” he asked, concern washing away the last of his hesitance.
“I didn’t know where else to bring it,” she replied. She moved out of the way then, gesturing him onward into the house.
He walked down the hall and into the living room, and when he saw the soul that was inside, he understood why Aunt Ro had said ‘it.’
He couldn’t tell if it was male or female. In fact, he wouldn’t have even known it was human, except he had the distinct knowledge that it was. He occasionally dealt with other beings, even though it was difficult to communicate with them, but this soul emanated humanity.
It also emanated sorrow. And pain. And grief. And so much regret.
It was almost without form. Cass felt like he was staring into a dark corner to look upon it. He couldn’t quite make any details out, and his eyes kept wanting to skitter away. When he turned off his sight, it was gone, but he stillfeltit there. When he tried to look more closely, he only saw a roiling mass of darkness, although occasionally there was the barest glimpse of shining light within it.
It existed on the astral plane, which meant it was technically a ghost. Only Cass had never seen anything like it in all his time on Earth, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do with it.
Chapter 4
Kushiel
