EVA

MINUTES PASSED LIKE HOURS from the moment Eva plopped onto the loveseat.

In a futile attempt at relaxation, she threw her body across the loveseat and rested her head on one of the fuzzy throw pillows. The sounds of Emrys rummaging through utensils and the occasional whoosh of faux materials catching his flame accompanied her as she closed her eyes, but any hope of finding solace behind the darkness of her lids was quickly dashed. Memories and past dreams danced through the emptiness, no matter how hard she tried to shove them into the void. Flashes of hellfire, the Guardian's grotesque appearance, and blurred snips of Astraelan adventures plagued her vision until she forced herself to sit back up.

When she did, Emrys poked his head above the countertop. His eyes crinkled with a soft smile and he ducked back down. The soft rustling of items being placed in his bag resumed shortly after.

Sitting still would provide her no favors. The loveseat creaked as she stood, making her way to the TV stand and bookshelves to inspect their carnage.

Thankfully, the discarded books' pages hadn't been gutted from their bindings, but the sight of so many bent covers and scuffed dust jackets made her heart sink. She had worked with Emrys long enough to know how pristine he kept any novel he came into contact with—and how long he'd rant over her dog-earing pages. Just the thought of someone destroying his collection brought a heaviness to her chest.

The feeling deepened when she reached for the nearest picture frame, careful to avoid the shattered glass around it.

Two unmistakable figures stared back at her, frozen in heartfelt joy.

Emrys was in his Phoenix form, one she had yet to see in person for longer than a few hours. Even with his dark hair a tousled mess and sweat glistening off his skin, an ear-to-ear smile spread wide across his lips. His golden eyes shone bright as he laughed, peeking just beyond the shoulder of the woman who held their camera selfie-style.

Thana.

It had been months since Eva had received a clear dream of her, but Thana's beauty still ripped the breath from her lungs. Locks of pin-straight midnight hair that typically fell to her waist had been thrown into a messy updo with flyaways scattered in every direction. It was a look Eva often wore herself, though it made her look like she should be accepting coinage in a top hat on the street, whereas Thana donned the style with grace.

The image was possibly the happiest Thana had ever appeared. It reflected even in her eyes: a stunning sea-green that glittered with mid-shot laughter. While it was unclear what she and her male counterpart were so amused with, their expressions alone brought a smile to Eva's face.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at the image when quiet footsteps drew her attention.

Emrys made his way from the open bathroom door. Intense concentration marked his face as he glanced inside his satchel, lips moving to take silent inventory of each acquired item.

With his attention on the bag, Eva held up the photo to capture both of his forms in one glance. There was no comparison; each form held its own unique properties, yet exuded the same childlike innocence that had enamored her from her first dream.

Still, she found it hard to see his current state as anyone other than Jensen Hawthorn: a normal, klutzy human with a soft spot for addictive books and baked goods.

When he approached, his eyes landed on the frame in Eva's grasp.

"Is it ruined?" His voice was hesitant, as if uncertain whether he wanted to hear the answer. He stepped behind her and crouched down to peek over her shoulder.

"The glass is obliterated," said Eva, "but the photo's in good shape."

Emrys smiled weakly as his eyes met the photograph. Moisture glistened along his waterline, threatening to trail down his cheeks, but he blinked it away before tears could escape. When he opened his eyes, only for them to pool yet again, Eva broke the silence.

"Thana's beautiful."

Emrys swallowed hard and swiped at his eyes. "Yeah, she really was."

He reached out, taking the frame with gentle fingers before sliding it inside his satchel. A sniffle broke free, though he tried not to make it noticeable as he clasped the front flap.

"I'm sorry." The words left Eva's mouth before she could stop them—and she immediately wished she could take them back when he averted his gaze.

"For what?" Emrys slid the strap off his shoulders, gripping the satchel between his hands.

"The other day, when I asked you out. If I had known about her..."

"You didn't know." His words, while genuine, held the weight of sorrow. Even once he stood, he couldn't look Eva in the eye as he fought to maintain a neutral expression.

Though she wanted nothing more than to offer gentle affirmations, she didn't push the subject. Instead, she got to her feet and dusted off her jeans.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"I need to change first. Bobbi was kind in letting me borrow this, but..." He glanced down at his baggy hoodie and jeans so loose their belt had to be tightened several extra notches to keep them on his waist. "I'd like to wear my own clothes."

Chuckling half-heartedly, he held his satchel out for Eva, who took it with an unsure hand. She glanced down at it as he crossed to his room and closed the door. The object seemed perfectly normal, like any other time she'd held onto it for him during their shifts, but something about it this time felt... wrong. Dangerous. Like she was holding a ticking bomb that would explode at the wrong touch.

Thankfully, he didn't keep her waiting long before he reemerged in a t-shirt and blue flannel jacket, with sleeves rolled up to his elbow. A small pile of neatly-folded clothes rested in the crook of his arm.

His tattoo-covered arm.

The harder Eva tried not to stare, the more her eyes lasered in on the designs. The dagger remained in its spot on his wrist, but its ink was no longer golden—instead, it was a standard black. Past the formerly-hidden hilt rested smaller items: sigils and runes, writings from an unfamiliar language, and even a miniature shuriken partially obscured by his cuffed sleeves.

She recognized their purpose instantly. Others in her novels bore similar tattoos, each one an item enchanted to be removed from the skin at a moment's notice—usually a favorite weapon or a healing tonic. But Emrys had only ever had one: a scaled-down scythe with black rose embellishments that spanned his back. Thana's most prized possession.

"You promised you'd explain," said Eva. "I think now would be a great time."

"Remember we established my cool down? Well..." Emrys sat on the arm of the loveseat, tugging his sleeve up farther to reveal more tattoos across his skin. "It looks like I wasn't as cooled down as I thought." He traced his fingers across a lone arrow near the crook of his arm. "When I use too much power, my abilities are weakened. Holding this form uses resting magic... just enough to get by without messing up the electricity. But as I weaken, even this form crumbles."

"You're changing back," muttered Eva. "But I don't remember you having this many tattoos."

Emrys unbuttoned his sleeve to roll it over his wrist. "You missed a lot after your dreams stopped. When we knew I would be coming to Earth, a good friend made sure I was prepared." A weak smile flickered to his lips. "She wanted me to have an arsenal in case my cool down got... annoying."

The smile faltered, but he picked it back up before Eva could comment.

"Of course," he said, "it doesn't do much good if my form fails before we get back to Bobbi's. It's not easy to hide that transformation."

Eva's mind drifted back to the blinding light from his last form change. With the way it pierced through her eyelids, she didn't want to imagine how much commotion it'd raised on the city block. They had been lucky to not have had another Corrupted alerted to his presence, or the cops banging down the door to find the source of Emrys' blood trail.

"We're going straight back to the coffee shop, right?" Eva picked at the skin along her fingernails as she watched Emrys' concerned expression. "We should be fine."

"Actually..."

"Is there something else you need?"

"Your last book." Emrys took the satchel from the couch and loaded his clothes into it. "I've read back through everything except your unfinished manuscript. With my powers on the fritz, I've been trying to find a better way of taking out the Corrupted so I'm not blowing through my magic."

"I thought my books were wrong," she teased.

"Even a broken mouse finds cheese sometimes." His words made Eva wrinkle up her face in such a strong manner that he stared back with wide eyes. "Did I say that right?"

Eva held back a laugh. "Not even close." She glanced back at his arms while he rolled down his other sleeve. "Think you're up for the walk over to my place? I've got a hard copy on my desk."

"We can't be near your apartment." Emrys buttoned the cuff of his sleeve and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "That Dreadfiend attacked close by, which means the Corrupted know where to find you. Did you keep any other copies lying around?"

"Not printed," she said, "but I have it on a few flash drives. I keep one at the library in case I get inspired."

A mischievous smile rose to his lips as he stood, slinging the satchel over his shoulders once again.

"Perfect."

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