The taxi ride back felt longer than the trip out. Seed slumped in his seat, every muscle in his body screaming from the warehouse fight. His long hair stuck to his neck with sweat, and dust from the collapsed beams still coated his trench coat. Beside him, Mira stared out the window, her pink eyes distant, her halo flickering as usual.
Neither spoke. The silence wasn't comfortable anymore, it was heavy, weighted with everything the Boss had revealed. Fallen angel. Vessel. Family that threw her away like trash. Seed kept stealing glances at her, seeing Lila in every quiet moment. That same look of someone carrying too much, too young.
The taxi pulled up to their apartment building just as the sun settled below Ashwick's skyline, painting everything in shades of orange and yellow. Seed paid the driver, his hand brushing the skull tattoo hidden under his sleeve. It felt warm, pulsing faintly. The Book of Death was quiet, but he could sense it waiting.
"You okay, kid?" Seed asked as they climbed the stairs.
Mira shrugged, her uniform torn at the shoulder from where the wraith's rebar had grazed her. "Define okay, old man." Her voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat, crossing her arms tighter. "I'm fine. Just tired."
They reached the fourth floor. Seed's apartment was on the left, Rebecca's directly across the hall. He glanced at her door, no light seeping underneath, no sound from within. Locked up tight like a clam. After their beer-and-wings night and her ink-ant demonstration, she'd bolted the next morning, embarrassed about passing out on his couch. He hadn't seen her since.
Mira continued down the hallway, stopping at apartment 4C, just two doors past Seed's place. When the Boss had insisted she needed to be close to her partner for "security reasons," the MMA had pulled strings to get her this unit. Seed had thought it was overkill at the time, but after today's revelation about her possession, he understood the
logic.
"You sure you don't want to crash at my place?" Seed offered, still standing by his door. "Couch is open. Better than being alone after... all that."
Mira's jaw tightened as she fumbled with her keys. "I
said I'm fine." She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Stop treating me like I'm broken, old man. I don't need your pity. Besides, I'm literally two doors away if something happens. Not like I'm across town."
"That's not what I—" But the door slammed before
Seed could finish.
He stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. At least
having her nearby meant he could keep an eye out. The Boss had made it clear: as Mira's partner, her safety was partially his responsibility. That thing inside her could take over at any moment if it healed enough.
"Great job, Wallace," he muttered to himself,
unlocking his own door. "Real smooth."
He stepped inside, immediately regretting it. The place was
still a disaster, ink stains on the carpet from Rebecca's ants, the scorched mark from the Crazy Female Ghost fight still visible near the couch. Lila's photo sat on the coffee table.
Seed dropped his keys on the counter and headed straight for the whiskey bottle. He poured two fingers, downed it in one gulp, the burn in his throat felt good. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, squinting at the screen.
Nice work today, rookie. You didn't die. Progress! -Cassie
Seed snorted, typing back: Thanks for the vote of
confidence.
Another buzz, this time from Mira's number.
Mira: Thanks for today, old man. Don't let it go to your
head.
A small smile tugged at Seed's lips. He saved the message, then tossed the phone onto the couch. Maybe they were making progress after all. And having her just down the hall felt right, like watching out for a younger sibling.
He grabbed the photo of Lila, tracing the frame with his
thumb. "Still looking, kid," he whispered. "Boss said he'd put agents on it. We're getting closer."
A faint pulse from his wrist drew his attention. The skull
tattoo glowed red, smoke seeping out to form the familiar floating screen. Seed groaned. "What now?"
[Death Prediction]
His breath caught. It had been days since the last
one—Rebecca's near-death, then his own encounter with the Crazy Female Ghost. He leaned closer, dread pooling in his gut as words bled onto the screen.
[Marcus Delgado, Ashwick Police Station. Stabbed through the chest. 11:47 p.m.]
"No. No, no, no." Seed's heart hammered. Delgado.
His old mentor, The clock on his wall read 9:32 p.m. Two hours and fifteen minutes.
Seed grabbed his coat, ignoring the ache in his legs. His
phone rang before he reached the door. He answered without checking the ID.
"Delgado?"
"Wallace?" Delgado's voice crackled through,. "You busy? Got a weird one at the station. Thought you might
want a look, off the record."
Seed's throat tightened. "What kind of weird?"
"Symbols carved into the holding cell walls. Inmates
swear they didn't do it, and hell, I believe 'em. Looks occult-ish. Your journalism nose might sniff something out." Delgado paused. "You alright, kid? Sound rattled."
"I'm fine," Seed lied, already halfway out the door. "I'll be there in twenty. Don't go anywhere alone, okay? Just...trust me on this."
"Wallace, you're scaring me—"
"Twenty minutes, Delgado. I'm serious. Stay in the
open." Seed hung up and bolted down the stairs, his Ghost Hair prickling at the base of his skull. Stabbed through the chest. The prediction was clear.
He burst onto the street, flagging down a taxi with frantic
waves. As it pulled up, movement caught his eye, a figure across the street, standing under a broken streetlight. Tall, hooded, face hidden in shadow.
Watching his building.
Seed froze, his Perception picking up on something. The figure's energy felt wrong, cold and dead, like standing near a cemetery at midnight. Nothing supernatural he'd encountered before felt quite like this, not ghosts, not
wraiths, not even that gargoyle. This was something else. Something organized.
The figure turned and walked away, vanishing into an alley.
Seed cursed under his breath, torn between chasing and saving Delgado. The prediction won. He jumped into the taxi. "Ashwick Police Station. Step on it."