The Second Summoning

“You are. You’re the new Keeper for this whole region. Check your damned e-mail on occasion, why don’t you. There you are, McIssac, I wondered where you’d got to. Figured you wouldn’t be far.”

“Mr. Smythe? Mrs. Abrams?” Dean’s astonished gaze slid off the shelf of lime-green supported bosom exposed in the open parka and wandered around the hall, unsure of where it was safe to alight.

“Hello, dear boy. My, you’re looking well.”

“Thank you, um, you, too.”

She released her grip on Augustus Smythe’s arm just long enough to wave at the elevator. “We’ve been working on our tans.”

“No time for chitchat.” One hairy-knuckled finger jabbed toward Dean . . .

“McIssac here will run the guesthouse.” . . . then changed direction to jab at Claire.

“You’ll take care of the metaphysical from Brockville to Belleville with this as your base. He needs to be more than your love slave, and this area needs a permanent Keeper. Your cat looks like he could use a few less nights sleeping rough, too.”

“He’s never slept any rougher than a Motel Six,” Claire protested.

“It was awful,” Austin sighed.

“No doubt.”

“Just wait a minute.” Her urge to grab Augustus Smythe’s arm aborted when he turned to glare. “Keepers my age don’t get tied to one place.”

“Times are changing. Thanks to modern communications, modern transportation, and spandex, Keepers can get to sites before they grow big enough to be dangerous.”

“I’ve dosed dangerous sites!”

“You dead yet? Then don’t argue with me. A century ago, you’d have beaten considerable odds to be alive at your age. But now, fewer Keepers die, more Keepers are alive, the lineage can cover more of the world safely and still have what resembles a life. It’s basic math. Your sister’d probably spend her first few years closing sites no one’s been powerful enough to close until now. If she doesn’t blow herself to kingdom come first.”

It sounded good. But there had to be a catch. “So eventually the world won’t need us.”

“Did I say people were getting smarter?” He turned to Mrs. Abrams. “Did you hear me say that people are getting smarter?”

She beamed down at him. “I surely didn’t, puddin‘.”

“There, see? The dumb asses in this world will always need someone to clean up after them. You’re just getting a chance to live happily ever after while you do it.

We’ll get changed and out of your way. Coming, Mags?”

“Coming, puddin‘.”

“That was surreal,” Austin observed as the two turned the corner into the office and then disappeared into Augustus Smythe’s apartment.

Strangely uncertain, Claire looked around at the guesthouse, stopped looking around when her gaze got to Dean. “You want to stay, don’t you?” He shrugged. “It’s your choice, Boss.”

“Our choice.”

About to defer, he suddenly shook his head. “Then, yes. I want to stay.”

“Because you want to be more than my love slave?”

“I never said that. Just promise me something,” he added after a moment, capturing her face in both hands and holding it far enough away from his that he could look into her eyes. “Never call me puddin‘.” Claire shuddered. “I think I can safely promise you that.”

“Hey!”

They moved apart again as Diana and Samuel came down the hall.

“Was that who I think that was?”

“Yes.”

“With . . . ?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“They’re moving to Florida together, Dean’s taking over the guesthouse and, if Augustus Smythe is to be trusted, which, of course, he isn’t, I’m now covering a specific area . . .” She patted one of the hunter green walls almost fondly. “... based around this very building.”

Diana’s lip curled. “Oh, man, that’s such a happy tie-up-all-the-loose-ends ending I think I’m going to hurl.”

“Take a number,” Austin advised.

Claire ignored them both. “What did Mom say?”

“That I did the right thing and we’ll talk about the rest when I get home.”

“Well, she actually said,” Samuel began and broke off as Diana glared.

“So what do we do with Byleth long term?” she asked, pointedly changing the subject. “She could live here with you, you’ve got the space. I think you two would make wonderful parents.”

Dean blanched. “Uh, better idea.” He pulled out a crumpled envelope. “I found this in her jacket pocket. It’s got the address and the phone number for a Mr.

and Mrs. Harry Porter and a note that says ‘if you ever need us, call’.”

“I don’t know,” Claire began.

He handed her the envelope. “The ‘i’ has been dotted with a little heart.”

“Oh, yeah. They deserve each other. Although ...” She sighed, frowning at the little heart. “I still don’t like the thought of releasing even an ex-demon into the world.”

“She’ll be going to high school,” Diana reminded her grimly. “Anything demonic she managed to do in the short time she was here, she’ll more than pay for.”

“Good point.” The envelope changed hands again. “She’s your project, Diana, you can do the honors.”

“Okay, but I’m doing it from the phone in Dean’s old apartment, I so don’t want to run into Mr. and Mrs. Scary Old People again.” Pivoting on one heel, she scanned the hall. “Samuel?”

Just as she started to worry, he emerged from the elevator, jaws working.