Page 57 of Mortis

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll change my name to Justin Twinkerlake.” He struck a pose that I thought was supposed to look sexy. “Spice things up a bit, y’know?”

My lower lip trembled. I bit down on it before the laugh escaped. “The most famous member of NTWINK.”

Arlo’s mouth twitched.

“Don’t forget our number one single.” He cleared his throat theatrically. “Bi Bi Bi-Panic.”

We stared at one another for a beat.

Then we both completely lost it.

Arlo doubled over laughing until tears streamed down his face, while I clung to the embalming table, my stomach aching.

“What’s all the noise?”

Grandad and Kael appeared in the doorway behind Arlo. Grandad immediately ruffled Arlo’s hair, who let out an offended squawk and slapped his hand away.

“Arlo’s just being Arlo,” I managed between breaths.

Grandad chuckled as though that explained absolutely everything, and threw an arm around Arlo’s shoulders. Kael looked over their heads towards me. His maroon eyes flicked briefly to Carol’s covered body before returning to mine.

“Do you require assistance?”

I nodded, unable to stop a shy smile from forming. “Please.”

After the previous evening’s chaos with the Blackthorn Bugle article, I’d eventually fallen asleep against Kael on the sofa. Instead of waking me or leaving me there, he’d simply carried me to bed. Then, in what was possibly the strangest decision I’d made in quite some time, I’d invited him to sleep beside me instead of banishing him back to the floor.

I still wasn’t entirely sure why.

Maybe it was seeing the hope in his face when I told him Ken Kaneki got a happy ending.

Or maybe some part of me knew Kael needed comfort more than questions after being forced to relive the consequences of the Beast’s actions.

Whatever the reason, I’d slept like a log.

Kael naturally ran hot, though apparently all demons did. Something to do with being born from Hellfire. His body had turned my freezing bed into the warmest place in the flat, which was saying something considering our insulation was practically non-existent.

Every winter, Arlo and I usually ended up cocooned beneath blankets on the sofa, still wearing scarves and gloves because the heating barely touched the cold.

Last night, I’d actually been warm.

Cosy.

When I’d first woken, one of my legs was draped over the quilt, my foot buried in the thick fur covering Kael’s inhuman legs. My face had somehow found its way into the crook of his neck, surrounded by curtains of smoky hair.

I’d immediately tensed, prepared to scramble back onto my own side of the bed and apologise for invading his space.

But then I breathed him in.

Woodsmoke, like standing beside a bonfire on a crisp November evening.

And before I had a chance to move, his clawed fingers began absent-mindedly combing through my hair, gently massaging my scalp.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was ringing.

Arlo and Grandad stepped aside so Kael could squeeze his broad frame through the doorway. Once he reached my side, he helped me manoeuvre Carol’s body into the refrigeration unit. With her safely inside, I turned towards the pair waiting at the door.

Gerald wasn’t available to help Grandad with today’s service, so Arlo was taking his place. Which meant I was stuck manning the front of the funeral home for the afternoon. Thankfully, there were no consultations or viewings in the diary. I just hoped nobody decided to wander in unannounced. Some lonely pensioner wanting to arrange their funeral before they kicked the bucket.