Wrath of the Gods [Legacy, BK 3 - Hiatus]

5.5 - Ezra

I fought a sigh as I waved to Avery and closed the second portal. It had been a long afternoon of discussions with Maui Zavi and Poe regarding Liam, getting everyone together to come back to our world, traveling back, then turning around again to help Jett get his things from his friend's place. But the best part about this afternoon was seeing Jett get the hang of summoning so quickly. Watching him work with Hunter gave me hope that maybe Jett would be more willing to fight with us than he was letting on.

Jett and I stood in another alleyway, this one only a block or two from his friend's place. We'd use the street view on the maps app to get us close.

"Come on, it's this way." Jett led the way out onto the street and down another block.

At this time in the early evening, people were heading home or out to eat dinner. Jett and I blended in, especially since I left Vasco with Avery back at the bunker. He hadn't been happy at being left behind, but Avery had bribed the demon with some of his favorite snacks.

Jett turned off the sidewalk and took the stairs up to a steel door. The building was old and showed its age. Where the carpeted halls weren't worn through from the foot traffic, the matted fabric showed hints of a green and mustard floral design that might have been popular in the 70s. The paint was layered thick on the walls, the lower halves full of scuff marks and gouges showing all the different colors.

I followed Jett up five flights of steep stairs that I would have gladly skipped if the elevator had been working. My legs burned as we got to the last landing, and I had to stop for a moment to catch my breath.

The upstairs hallway was just as bad as the lobby, but even more run down. A few of the lights in the hall were burned out and some of the numbers on the doors are written in with marker instead of the brass plates that only a few of them still had.

Jett stopped at a door down at the end with faded green paint and the number 23 written on it. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door, holding it for me so I could walk past him and into the apartment.

"Gil is probably at work, so it should just be us here. I don't have much stuff," he said.

The apartment was full of mix-matched furniture, plastic crates, and found items like wooden pallets and a stop sign that was nailed to the wall next to the small window. The couch looked like a musty old reject from the dorm back at the college I attended for a brief semester. There was a crumbled blanket at one end and a pillow at the other.

Jett pulled a black plastic milk crate from behind the couch. It was loaded to the brim with a few books, smaller boxes, and a couple of vinyl records. Jet grabbed a duffle bag next, tossing the pillow from the couch and stuffing it in.

"This is where you've been staying?" I asked obviously knowing the answer. "Didn't you say something about an uncle?"

Jett's hands slowed as he looked up at me. "My uncle passed away while I was in high school." He stood and walked a few steps to a door in a  small hallway, which turned out to be the bathroom.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jett's voice called back. "He was old and he didn't take great care of himself. His landlady, she was nice. She let me stay with her after that, in exchange for helping out around the building. After high school though, she fell and broke her hip. Her kids moved her into a nursing home and the new boss kicked me out."

Jett returned from the bathroom with a towel, a washcloth, and a small caddy of shower stuff. "That's when I started crashing up friends' places. I haven't always been able to keep a job. So it's hard to save up money for a place my own." He added the bathroom things to a reusable grocery bag, folding the towel on top so it covered the other things. Jett stood and glanced around the apartment.