Page 32 of Mortis

Given his size, our options had been limited. We’d settled on a pair of grey joggers that were sinfully tight and stopped a good six inches above his ankles. The top half wasn’t much better. The only T-shirt that came close to fitting was white and emblazoned with I HEART MILFS in large black letters. The fabric stretched tightly across his chest, and every time he moved, the sleeves looked moments away from surrendering.

The worst part, however, was the shoes.

I hadn’t been able to find a matching pair big enough to fit him, so he was wearing Crocs. One red. One green. No idea where their companions had gone.

On the plus side, Kael seemed delighted by them. He’d spent a full minute bouncing experimentally on the foamy soles before I’d finally managed to herd him out of the funeral home.

The sky was considerably less dark by the time we reached my flat. We still had enough time to cook before dawn, assuming nothing else went catastrophically wrong. Which, admittedly, felt optimistic.

“We need to be quiet when we get inside,” I explained as we climbed the stairs. “My flatmate’s asleep, and I’d rather not explain why I’ve brought home a stray demon in the middle of the night.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a stray.”

“Sure.”

“I’ve lived in the same woods for sixty years.”

“That’s somehow worse.”

He frowned thoughtfully, as though trying to work out why.

Watching him navigate the stairs was surprisingly entertaining. Despite his new human appearance, he moved with just enough awkwardness to seem out of place. Every step appeared carefully calculated. Like a very large alien attempting to operate a human skin suit for the first time.

Unlocking the door, I paused and listened.

Silence.

Good. That meant Arlo was hopefully still in bed.

I wasn’t entirely sure where Kael was going to sleep, since apparently I’d decided he was staying here. Arlo was already occupying half my bed, and our tiny sofa struggled to accommodate two small adult humans, never mind Kael’s giant body.

But that was a problem for future Teddy.

Current Teddy had a hungry demon to feed.

I hung my keys beside the door and led Kael into the kitchen area. I kept the main lights off, opting for the warm LEDs beneath the cupboards. It was just enough to see what I was doing.

I pointed towards one of the dining chairs. “Sit.”

Kael immediately obeyed, and the sight was . . . endearing. A seven-foot human-disguised cryptid taking instructions like an oversized Labrador.

While he settled himself at the table, I dropped the clinical waste bag onto the counter and got to work. Pan, butter, onions, mustard, double cream, and a handful of herbs. Thick-cut chips went into the air fryer, and I placed Mr Cartwright’s rump on a chopping board, seasoning it generously with salt and pepper.

The less I thought about what I was cooking, the better.

Once the butter had melted, I added a sprig of thyme and lowered the meat into the pan. It sizzled immediately.

And loudly.

Swearing under my breath, I rushed to open the kitchen window before the smoke triggered the fire alarm. By the time I returned, the smell had begun filling the flat. Knowing where it came from, I probably should have been horrified. Instead, it smelled exactly like steak.

“Teds?” Arlo’s sleepy voice nearly made me launch the frying pan across the room. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?”

I spun around. “You’re awake.”

“I smelled food.” Arlo shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes. His hair pointed in every direction imaginable. He yawned. “Was everything alright at the funeral home, or⁠—”

His gaze landed on Kael and the sentence died instantly.