“A great many things, human. Did you not wonder who took care of you all those months? Akki imprisoned you without any idea of how to keep you. He does not remember what it is like to be human. Perhaps he never was, even in his youth. I too had forgotten how much food and care humans require. It has been so long since I was one myself. At any rate, grateful as I was for Akki allowing you to sleepwalk about that little room of yours, keeping you alive was tiring. So, I went searching for her. It was not easy. You are welcome.”

Zaniel is quiet for a moment. “Must I guess what the great Hino-sama wants in exchange for my care?”

“My only request is that you do not destroy me, too. It is only fair. Right, Baku-sama?”

The shadow is no longer addressing Zaniel. I find myself pushing Zaniel away, approaching the dark shadow in the entranceway. It’s that girl from weeks ago. The one outside of the bar. And the girl who sat across from me when Zaniel and I came here on our first date. It doesn’t make sense, and yet it makes all the sense in the world. “Hino?”

“You remember. I am honoured.” The shadow bows low. “Take care, Baku-sama, and why not? You, too, dream-walking human. I would hate to see you both end up on cereal boxes one day. Now, if you will excuse me, my search for the perfect lighter continues. Farewell.”

Cereal boxes? The perfect lighter? I don’t get it. But the dark figure of the leonine, long-haired girl is already turning away, a ghostly figure heading into the dimly lit night, disappearing forever.

“That was weird,” I mutter. What am I saying? What out of this whole day hasn’t been fucking weird? “Come on. Put your weight into me.” Zaniel groans as we climb the steps and step out into the open air. “There, see? We made it.”

“Yeah …” Zaniel turns to me, then stops in his tracks. “Uh, Cybelle? You … you’ve got something …” He gestures to his mouth.

“What?” With my free hand, I wipe my chin and it comes back sticky and dark. “The hell …?”

Whatever this stuff is, it’s all over my face. I carefully let Zaniel go and step farther out into what little light there is out here. My eyes begin to blur. Something is very wrong. I look down and my stomach roils. Behind me, leading all the way up to my feet, is a thick, greasy trail of red fluid and clots in pristine white snow. That’s what’s all over my face, all over my white coat. The scent on my fingers that’s like the time I left hamburger meat de-thawing for too long. Or dead, rotting fish.

It’s blood.

And none of it is mine.