Page 31 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
Jack’s carved expression softened immediately. Relief flooding through his posture. “Understood.”
“This is going to end so badly,” Bramble muttered.
And for three days, it didn’t.
The demon followed Locke everywhere. A weight at the corner of his vision, a shadow that never quite touched but never left. It was unsettling. Creepy in a way that made the hair on his neck stand up. But it didn’t hurt anyone. Didn’t do anything except follow him like the world’s most ominous puppy.
Customers at the shop couldn’t see it. Only Locke could feel its presence, cold and watchful.
It was also kind of touching that Jack cared that much.
The final rehearsal came with the kind of electric energy that only happens right before a performance. Everyone waskeyed up, running on adrenaline and anticipation. Jimmy had them run through the whole play twice, making notes, adjusting blocking, generally being Jimmy.
By the time rehearsal ended, Locke was exhausted but buzzing.
He and Rowan walked out together into the cool October evening. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple that Jack would probably approve of. Streetlamps were just starting to flicker on, and someone nearby was burning leaves, the scent mixing with the crisp autumn air.
Rowan was in the middle of a story, gesturing wildly. “I can’t believe I was the one who started it! I swear I was like ‘what the hell are you thinking kissing that himbo!’”
Locke laughed, the sound echoing off the buildings. They’d been talking about the play’s kiss scene for days now. Rowan had been chosen to demonstrate stage kissing technique with Xander, much to everyone’s amusement. “He’s a hot himbo so you’re forgiven. I mean I probably would have kissed him too...”
“You are the WORST liar.” Rowan grinned, shoving him playfully. His hand hit his shoulder, more friendly push than anything else.
The shadow demon lunged.
One second everything was fine, just two friends joking around in the twilight. The next, cold shadow wrapped around Locke, pulling him backward as something dark and sharp sliced through the air where he’d been standing.
Rowan’s jacket ripped. A clean tear from shoulder to hem, fabric shredding like paper under claws that shouldn’t exist.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”
Locke stepped between Rowan and the demon instantly, one hand raised like a warding gesture. The demon hovered, still protective, still ready to strike if Rowan moved the wrong way.
“Rowan, are you okay?”
“My jacket just...” Rowan turned in a circle, looking around wildly, trying to find what had attacked him. But he couldn’t see the demon. Only Locke could see it, floating there with its shadow-claws extended, its formless face somehow conveying satisfaction at protecting its charge.
“Must’ve snagged on something. You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. But that was... weird.” Rowan’s voice shook slightly. He pulled his jacket closed, examining the damage. The tear was too clean, too deliberate.
“I’ll walk you home. Come on.” Locke took his arm gently, steering him away from the theater, away from the demon that watched them both with its non-eyes.
He got Rowan home safely, made sure he was inside and okay. Then he turned to face the demon.
It floated there in the empty street, waiting. Obedient. Dangerous.
Locke remembered what Jack had taught him about summoning magic. How to call things forth. Which meant there had to be a way to bind them, to control them, to...
He reached out, felt for the threads of the summoning, found where Jack’s power connected to the demon. And he pulled. Hard. The binding magic came easier than he expected, wrapping around the demon like ropes, tightening, constraining.
The demon struggled, but Locke held firm. This was his magic. His power.
By the time he got back to the apartment, the demon was bound in glowing golden ropes, floating beside him like a balloon on a string. Locke shoved open the door and marched upstairs.
Jack looked up from whatever he’d been doing, surprise flashing across those carved features. The familiars scattered.
Locke dropped the bound demon at Jack’s feet.
