by Kate Moseman
“Oh, look at this!” Raya skipped over to a nearby rack and picked up a sleek little black dress.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Phoenix, taking the dress out of her hands and returning it to the rack. “It’s a wedding, not a funeral.”
“I like black,” said Raya. “Shoot me.”
“If only,” said Phoenix.
“Fine, no black. How about this?” Raya darted away and picked up a white lace cocktail dress.
Erin made a skeptical face. “I think it would draw attention if someone other than the bride was wearing white.”
“You have to admit, it’d be funny,” said Raya. She laid the dress against herself. “How do I look?”
“Unconvincing,” said Phoenix.
Raya stuck out her tongue at him and dropped the hanger onto the rack with a clang.
Andy kept holding Erin’s hand and turned to face her. Was she blushing? He couldn’t tell. “Erin, what do you like to wear? What’s your favorite color?”
“I like pink,” she said.
“Pink it is, then,” said Andy. He turned to Phoenix and Raya. “Stop messing around, and find the lady something pink.”
“Yes, oh Great Earl,” said Phoenix. He bowed to Andy, then threw his arm around Raya and said, “Let’s go.”
She immediately punched him in the gut.
Phoenix doubled over. “Ow!”
“Something wrong, Phoenix?” Raya said as she sauntered away.
Phoenix went after her, calling “I was just trying to be friendly!”
Erin looked at Andy. “They’re quite a pair.” She smiled.
“A very weird pair,” said Andy. He reveled in the gentle pressure from her hand and had to stop himself from giving it an affectionate squeeze.
He couldn’t forget that all of this boyfriend and girlfriend play-acting was only a charade. Andy fled from that line of thought and focused on the present. Here and now, he held Erin’s hand. She had smiled at him.
It would have to be enough.
“How about this one?” said Andy. He used his free hand to pick up a pink dress with a full skirt.
“Too floofy.”
He set it down. “This one?” He picked up a sleeker style with cutouts on the sides.
“Too revealing.”
Andy put it back.
“Is that noise coming from Raya and Phoenix?” said Erin.
Andy followed her gaze across the store to see them standing toe to toe, having a shouting match that was unintelligible at that distance. “We’d better get them.” He let go of Erin’s hand as they speed-walked to the arguing pair.
“You look more like a couple than we do,” said Erin.
That stopped Raya and Phoenix in mid-argument.
“We had to stop practicing holding hands just to run over here and interrupt your lovers’ quarrel,” added Andy, giving Phoenix a particularly hard look.
“Did you just call this a lovers’ quarrel?” said Raya. “I’ll have you know this idiot told me I didn’t know a thing about clothes.”
“Well, you don’t—” Phoenix began, then stopped when he caught the look on Andy’s face. “I mean, you’re too busy with all the really important things you do to worry about something as superficial as fashion.”
Raya stared at him suspiciously. “Like what important things?”
“Like … library things. And”—here he lowered his voice—“really powerful magic.”
“You think so?” She looked ever so slightly mollified.
“I know so,” said Phoenix, for once pouring his charm in Raya’s direction.
Andy felt Erin slip her hand back into his and tried not to sigh with happiness.
They moved through the racks as a foursome, picking up and discarding one dress after another.
By lunchtime, they’d scoured three different department stores with no success. Raya and Erin, being the only ones in the group with a need to eat, declared a break for lunch and led the way to the food court.
“A food court?” Phoenix scowled.
Andy looked around hopefully. “Is there somewhere to get a good glass of wine?”
Erin laughed and hooked her arm through his. “You haven’t been in food courts much, have you?”
“What are you having?” he asked.
“I think I’ll go to the smoothie place,” said Erin.
“That sounds tolerable,” said Phoenix. “Given the situation.”
“Oh, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud,” said Raya. “I’ll have one, too.”
They carried their rainbow-hued smoothies to an unsteady table with four metal chairs and sat down.
“So, how’s the whole pretending to be a couple thing going?” said Phoenix with wide, innocent eyes. “Ready to move on from just holding hands?”
Given the choice, Andy would have drowned Phoenix with his own smoothie. Instead, he looked daggers in his direction to try to get him to be quiet.
“What do you mean?” said Erin, looking up from her drink.
“You’ve held hands all morning. Is that all? Do you think that will sell it?” said Phoenix.
Erin’s brow furrowed.
“It’s fine,” Andy said. “Phoenix, it’s—”
“No,” said Erin. “Phoenix has a good point. We should have a few more tricks up our sleeves.”
“I knew I liked this girl!” said Phoenix, raising his smoothie to her.
“Really, Erin, you don’t have to do anything you—” said Andy.
“We should kiss at least once,” said Erin.
Andy, thunderstruck, looked from Erin, to Raya, and finally Phoenix.
Phoenix—damn him—grinned triumphantly.
“Good idea,” said Raya, who was watching Erin across the table.
“See?” said Erin. “They like the idea.” She paused and leaned closer to Andy, her face full of concern. “Unless you don’t?”
Andy could smell the scent of her hair. “No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m fine with it. If you are.” His speech stumbled to a stop as he found it harder and harder to craft a coherent response.
“We can start with a kiss on the cheek,” said Erin.
“Oh,” said Andy, nonplussed.
Erin set her hand decisively on his jawline, drew him forward ever so slightly, and pressed her lips to his cheek. Her lips felt soft, and cool from the smoothie she’d been drinking.
The sensation sent shivers all the way to Andy’s toes. His eyes closed.
“Well? How was that?” She was sitting back again, looking like the cat that got the cream.
Did she like the kiss? Was it even possible? Andy tamped down his hopes before he sprouted wings right there in the food court. He cleared his throat. “It was fine. Very good.”
“I think you should kiss every time we go in a new store,” said Raya. “For practice.”
Phoenix nodded sagely. “Yes, for practice, Andy.”
Erin raised her eyebrows at Andy. “You game?”
Andy, who was beginning to feel like he had been redeemed and sent to some sort of heaven, could only nod. He drank his smoothie as quickly as possible. “Ready when you are,” he said when he finished.
28
The quartet approached the entrance to the last of the department stores. They had found nothing wedding-worthy at any of the preceding stores, and Andy, who had found the idea of kissing Erin to be heavenly, quickly discovered that in practice it was far more like Hell.
He couldn’t abide the idea that Erin only went along with it because she wanted to put on a convincing show at her ex’s wedding, but he also wanted to make her happy—and if that meant putting on a show, Andy would put on a show. It was a terrible position to be in. The fact that the kissing part was very nice just made it more like torture.
He steeled himself as he faced Erin.
“All right, you two, let’s go,” said Phoenix, gesturing meaningfully.
“On the lips this time,” said Raya.
“What?” said Andy. Panicked, he shot Phoenix a look.
Phoenix returned the look with an innocent smile.
Andy’s gaze switched to Erin.
She looked back at him with quiet expectation.
Well, then. If that’s the way it had to be, then he would do it right. He took a firm step forward, closing the distance between them, and swept one arm around the small of her back. His other hand softly cradled Erin’s head, her hair soft under his fingers.
Erin’s head tilted slightly back and her lips turned upward at the corners.
Andy kissed her sweet smile and felt Erin’s arms wrap around him, holding him in a state of bliss for what seemed to be eternity.
Raya slow-clapped and grinned at the two of them.
“Now that’s a kiss,” said Phoenix.
Erin drew back, pink at the cheeks.
Andy would have banished Phoenix—or murdered him, if it were possible—for interrupting. Instead, he turned back to Erin. “Was it okay?”
Erin cleared her throat. “It was great. I mean—it was fine.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
Phoenix slapped him on the back. “You’ll make a very convincing couple. Now let’s find a damned dress and get out of here.”
They proceeded into the store. The scent of the store’s perfume counter wafted out in a melange of riotous aromas.
Andy nearly stumbled in the aisle, still reeling from the kiss, and now under assault by the overpowering perfume.
Erin slipped up beside him and took his hand. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” said Andy.
“You don’t look fine,” she said.
“I’m allergic to perfume.”
“That can’t even be possible.”
Andy said nothing.
“Look, I’m sorry I roped you into this wedding date thing. If you’re uncomfortable, we can call the whole thing off.” She stopped and turned to face him in the aisle as Phoenix and Raya wandered further into the store.
He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’m just worried,” he said.
“About what?”
“I’m worried that I won’t do a good enough job for you.”
Was she buying it?
Her gaze caught his. “Is that all? I think you’re doing wonderfully. I couldn’t ask for a better pretend boyfriend.”
The double-edged compliment cut Andy like an angel’s sword. “Thank you,” he said.
They hurried to catch up with Raya and Phoenix, who were having a tug of war over a dress.
“This one is too short,” said Raya.
“It’s just the right amount of too short,” said Phoenix.
Raya rolled her eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Who makes these rules, anyway?” said Phoenix. “Too short. Wrong color. Too revealing. You mortals bedevil yourselves better than I ever could.” He won the tug of war but dropped the dress on the rack with a look of exasperation.
“Children, children,” said Andy, relieved to be in a situation in which he could maintain some semblance of control. “Stop fighting.” He turned to Erin. “Honey, do you see anything you like?”
The other three stared at him.
“What?” said Andy.
“Honey?” said Raya.
“Oh, sweetie darling!” said Phoenix, elbowing Raya.
They both collapsed into snickers.
“I like it,” said Erin, releasing Andy’s hand and threading her arm through his in a gesture of apparent solidarity. “Darling,” she added, bumping him playfully with her hip.
Andy beamed.
“Keep this up and you two are going to disgust everyone at that wedding,” said Phoenix.
“That’s the whole idea,” said Erin. “Now can we focus?”
“How about this one?” said Raya. She lifted a dress from another rack and held it up.
“That’s more like it,” said Erin. She took the dress and held it up against herself. “I’m going to try this one on. Raya, will you help me zip up?”
The women left for the fitting room.
Phoenix turned to Andy and looked him up and down. “You’re dying, aren’t you?”
Andy shot Phoenix a look. “You’re not helping.”
Phoenix smirked. “Sure I am. You kissed her on the lips, didn’t you?”
“I suppose I should thank you—for torturing me.”
“I’m not torturing you. You’re torturing yourself. You might as well loosen up and enjoy this while it lasts, you know.”
“You’re heartless.”
“So are you, technically. Physicality is just an illusion.”
“Go to Hell.”
“For what? Telling you the truth?”
“I don’t need you to tell me anything,” said Andy.
“You’re delusional,” said Phoenix, shaking his head. “I’m just trying to stop you from making a fool of yourself.”
Andy smiled sadly at his old friend. “Too late.”
29
Nancy Drew skittered to the front door as it swung wide to allow Andy and Erin inside.
Erin held the dress aloft to keep it out of reach of the dog. “I’ll put this away.” She slipped past the dog and the demon, and headed for her bedroom.
Andy knelt in the entryway. “Hello, old girl.” He patted the dog.
Nancy’s cloudy eyes focused on his face.
“You’re lucky your life is so uncomplicated,” he said, smoothing his hand over her ears.
Nancy Drew wagged her tail.
“Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Erin’s voice carried from the bedroom. “Andy, are you talking to the dog again?”
“Just a little,” called Andy. He gave the dog a final pat and stood up. “I’m glad you found a dress you liked.”
Erin walked out of the bedroom. “Me, too. I was beginning to think we’d run out of stores before I found one.”
“Are you hungry? Can I make you something?”
“I’m okay.” She ran her fingers over her hair. “On second thought, how about some cocoa?”
Andy followed her into the kitchen. “Where’s your cocoa?”
Erin pulled a red canister out of a cabinet. “I got it.”
Andy retrieved a small pot and brought it to the stove. “What else do we need?”
“Milk. Sugar and salt. And some vanilla.” Erin took the milk out of the refrigerator and poured it, without measuring, into the pot.
Andy rummaged in the pantry for the rest of the ingredients. “Sugar, salt, and vanilla.” He put each one on the counter within Erin’s reach.
“Thanks.” She spooned cocoa and sugar into the pot, following it with a pinch of salt and a spoonful of vanilla.
Andy held up a whisk he’d pulled from a drawer. “May I?”
She stepped back. “You may.”
Nancy Drew, intrigued by the noise, joined them in the kitchen. She sat on her haunches and watched.
“Where’d you get this cocoa recipe?” asked Andy. He stirred the mixture slowly to incorporate the cocoa powder without sending it flying.
“My mom.”
“Ah, the redoubtable Joyce.” Andy whisked faster.
“I still feel bad about telling her you were my boyfriend.”
“Oh? Why would you say that?” Andy attempted to keep a light tone.
Some of the liquid splashed out of the pot as he stirred.
“I put you on the spot.”
“Nonsense. I would have done the
same thing,” said Andy.
Erin leaned against the counter. “You would have?”
“Well, not exactly, perhaps—I have neither a mother nor an ex-husband. But can imagine that if I did, I would have done just what you did.”
“It must be kind of lonely, being a demon.” Erin turned away and took two mugs from the cabinet.
Andy shrugged. “You get used to it.”
The cocoa began to steam.
“Here,” said Erin. “Let me.” She carefully poured the hot cocoa into two mugs, and handed him one.
Nancy Drew scratched at the back door.
Erin opened the door with one hand and followed the dog outside, into the night air.
Andy followed her.
They sipped from their mugs and looked at the night sky. The last light of the sun lingered in the west, sending up a faint glow beneath the blaze of the evening star.
“Have you ever thought about staying in one place for a while?” She was watching him.
He carefully avoided looking at her. “Sometimes.”
“Do you get attached to people?”
The question sank into him like an arrow. “Even demons have feelings.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Unable to look away any longer, he faced her. “Yes. I get attached. But it doesn’t do anyone any good. Not me. Not the people I get attached to.”
She calmly drank her cocoa. “Why’s that?”
“Because—”
“Because it ends?”
“Yes,” he said. He drank his cocoa to avoid having to say more.
Nancy Drew toddled around the backyard as fast as an old dog could toddle, happily sniffing and snuffling as she went.
They finished their cocoa in silence.
Erin took Andy’s empty mug. “Everything ends, Andy. It’s just a matter of time—and how you want to spend it.” She whistled for the dog.
Nancy Drew attempted to run to Erin, but settled for ambling instead.
“Goodnight, Andy.”
He wanted to reach for her just then, take the mugs from her hands and let them fall to the damp earth, wrap her up in his wings and let the moment last forever. Instead, he stepped aside to let her pass. “Goodnight. I’ll come inside in a little bit,” he added.
The door closed.
Andromalius unfurled his wings and shot into the sky. If he could just fly fast enough, he could leave himself behind. He surged higher and higher, the streetlights shrinking with distance as he pulled away from the ground and everything on it.