ME & THE MONSTER

us

"I'd like two coffees, please, madam," Kal said. "With extra sugar."

"And a Coke for me, please," I said.

"Right. I'll be back in a jiffy. You know, you look just like my nephew Thomas," the bottle-blonde woman told nobody in particular, beaming. "His thoughts are as peculiar as yours."

Once she was out of earshot, I said: "I hope she meant you. It would be rather worrying if I looked like a Thomas. And do you think she can really see our thoughts?"

"She was just putting it on, I reckon," – sigh – "Witches. Terrible show-offs, they are." Kal rolled his eyes in a deprecating manner, then looked at me. "Hey, speaking of thoughts, that reminds me. You know that game we played once? When we went for a drink?"

"Yeah."

Of course I remembered. It seemed like a lifetime ago. I hadn't known what he was – who he was – then. I hadn't known who I was then either, who I was meant to be.

"Well, do you feel up to another round?" Kal said.

"Okay," I said. "But we'll play another version of it. Instead of a question for a question, we'll trade a thought for a thought, about ourselves or the other. It can be true or a lie, and the other has to guess which. How's that sound?"

"Sounds fun. You start, I've got to rack my small brain to come up with something."

"Uh-huh. My first thought is this: you're still murdering demons."

I saw surprise sweep across Kal's face. "Woah, Rae. Blunt, aren't you?"

I swallowed. "Maybe."

I had to know. I hadn't dared ask him before, and it had been niggling at me this whole time.

At that moment the serving witch appeared beside our table and laid down our drinks on it.

Any hope that she hadn't overheard our conversation vanished as she cooed: "Demons? I love demons, especially incubus. Do yourself a favour and summon one, miss." She winked at me. "Best shag of my life. Not too pricey, either."

"I'll bear it in mind," I called after her as she sashayed off. "Thank you."

Kal spluttered on his coffee.

"Wuss," I said, sniggering. "Blushing like a schoolgirl at the mere mention of incubi."

"Well, what can you expect?" His eyes twinkled. "I'm an innocent angel, see."

I snorted. "Not. You haven't told me if my thought is true or not, anyway."

Kal lowered his coffee.

"Your thought," he said in a quiet voice, "is true."

My stomach dropped. I tried to reason with myself that I was being stupid. He wasn't going to turn his whole life around just for me. Besides –

"What about you?" Kal said. "Are you still killing angels?"

I winced. "Yes," I whispered. "Sometimes. Kal – I'm – I'm –"

I wanted to tell him that it was getting harder to do it every time I ran into one. That the last time I'd used Sebastian I'd looked into the angel's eyes and seen Kal's. That I'd whispered, shaking, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

I'd felt filthy afterwards, sick with a guilt I hadn't known before. I wanted to fling away my dagger and never use it on a living creature again, regardless of what they were. Even if they were bad. Even if not killing them made me bad.