Weeks passed so quickly. My meetups with Thea quickly became a regular thing. Somehow she kept convincing me to go out just one more time, would talk endlessly about demons and angels, how great and wonderful their plans for humanity were.

Of course, I didn’t buy any of it. I kept going to find out more about my parents. That’s what I kept telling myself, at least. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was growing fond of the demon. I had no time to dwell on it, though. Nep kept my desk piled high with schoolwork, and my daily sparring sessions with Angelina left me exhausted, much less the occasional excursions to hunt Echoes, though it was now just stray pigeons that Ecto sent out into the city. No sign of Thea’s Echoes to be found.

“Why haven’t they been out?” I finally asked her one night. “Your Echoes, I mean.” We were out for a late meal after a night at the movies.

“Oh, right,” she said. “I probably should send them to cause some chaos, shouldn’t I? I haven’t... haven’t been in the mood for that lately. Y’know...” She laughed. “The demons in the first sphere say that I’ve gone all soft and weird, lately.”

“The angels at Sanctuary 73 are the same,” I said. “I think they’re trying to tire me out so I can’t see you. They try to get Vespa to keep an eye on me, too, but I can lose her pretty easily. Some magical being she is.”

“Yeah, tt’s not going to work.” She grinned. “You’re not going to stop meeting me. Not until I convince you that it’s not worth it being an angel.”

She said that so often. “Maybe I should convince you that it’s no good to be a demon,” I said. “The Echoes cause chaos; they don’t actually do anything useful. You talk so much about having a grand plan for people, wanting to take them to paradise, and yet... you’re not doing anything to help anyone now.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” she turned away. “I can’t choose whether or not I’m a demon or not. Unlike you. You chose to be an angel. I’m so jealous of that. Not being an angel, of course, but having that choice.”

Some choice. “She tricked me into it!”

“That’s your fault, though,” she laughed again. Her body had settled into her new teenage form with ease. Just a few weeks ago she’d still occasionally drift back into that child, but now she kept it consistently: the dark skin, the long, curly hair that fell to her shoulders. She still only wore a purple suit, though, which always drew attention, wherever we were.

“Anyways. My question for you.”

“Right, right,” she said. It’d become almost a ritual at this point. One question got answered for every night I spent hanging out with her. “Ask away, Quinn.”

I took a deep breath. “How long is this going to keep up?”

She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“You said you’d show me why the demons are, right? So do that. No games. No going to movies. I’ve humoured you long enough. You said you could show me. Tell me why the angels want me so badly. Tell me what I could be doing instead.”

“Oh. I see. Okay. You don’t want to be friends anymore.”

“That’s not it,” I admitted. “I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you. But I still have my objectives, just like you do yours. I’m an angel and you’re a demon. And I want to find my parents. I want to understand you. I want to know why our goals are opposed.”

“Right. Right,” she said. “Fine. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Take me where?”

“I’ll show you what I know of Ecto’s plan. I’ll show you a taste of our paradise for humans. But you have to promise me that you won’t tell the angels at Sanctuary 73 anything that I show you.”

“Promise you? Why?”

“You just have to trust me.” She scanned the other tables at the restaurant. “I know that we’ve been going out a lot, and that I joke about them not finding out, but... I’m still worried about what would happen if they did.”

“What would happen to you?”

She shook her head. “No. What would happen to you, Quinn. They might lock you up or something. Or worse. I’ve heard stories, you know. About what they do to angels who’ve ‘gone wrong’”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t do anything to me. They’re so nice.”

“Because they have to be,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Sorry. Ignore what I just said.”

We were walking home when something stepped out of the river. A figure cloaked in brown cloth, water dripping of their body with each step. In its hand, it held a huge scythe. “Thea.” I tapped her shoulder. But when we looked again, the figure was gone.