**LUKAS**
The second the car stops, Wren bolts. There is no hesitation, not a moment of consideration, just pure instinct. He moves so fast it’s like he was waiting for the opportunity, like the second the door opened, his body made the decision before his mind could. Clare, naturally, panics. She practically faceplants trying to scramble out of her seat, getting tangled in her seatbelt in the process. She flails, cursing under her breath, finally wrestling herself free before tripping her way onto solid ground. Meanwhile, I take my time. I unbuckle my seatbelt before attempting to stand up, which immediately gives me an advantage. And unlike Clare, I’m not particularly concerned, because by the time either of us actually get out of the car Wren has already been caught. Richard stands there, one hand locked around Wren’s arm like an iron shackle. Wren is still thrashing, still yanking and pulling, his breath quick and erratic as he fights desperately to break free.
“Stop that, I’m a kelpie. You know you can’t escape unless I choose to let go.” Richard says, perfectly calm. The second those words leave his mouth, Wren freezes. Not because Richard is physically restraining him, though, to be fair, he is, but because something else just clicked into place. The magic of the demon deal. The moment Wren accepts that he has no chance of escaping, the compulsion fades. The knowledge that he can’t leave stops actively forcing him to try. Smart.
“Wait, Wren? Is that you?” Richard says suddenly, his brow furrowing. Okay. Does everyone already know Wren? Because this is getting weird. Wren, who was literally seconds away from launching himself into a full blown escape attempt a minute ago is now suddenly calm. His expression shifts, the panic flickering out just slightly, replaced by something softer. He looks up at Richard, blinking in recognition.
“Richard?” His voice is hesitant, then brightens.
“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since Solem first brought me to stay!” He says enthusiastically. And then, before I can even process what’s happening Wren throws his arms around Richard in a tight hug. A full body hug. Wren clings to him, his fingers curling into the fabric of Richard’s jacket, his face buried against his shoulder. I blink. What the hell? Richard stiffens slightly, caught off guard, but then, after the briefest pause, he returns the hug, his arm wrapping around Wren’s back, steady and solid. And I just… Watch. And stew. Because I barely got a nod when I showed up to rescue Wren from this entire disaster. Meanwhile, Richard, who left him there, gets a hug. Sure, I get it. Wren was there willingly at first. He might not have wanted to leave. But still, it stings. Probably more than it should. I force my face into a neutral expression as Richard finally pulls back, looking down at Wren in mild disbelief.
“You’re the necromancer?” He asks Wren, but he is looking up at me for confirmation. I nod stiffly. He doesn’t even wait for more details. He just starts leading Wren inside, like he’s done this a million times before. And I let him, I’m suddenly feeling a little useless. I suppose it was a good decision on my part to text Richard, though, if I’m being honest, I only reached out because I figured his ability to restrain people would be useful. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might already know Wren. I mean, yeah. He used to work for Solem. It’s not impossible they crossed paths. But still. The way Wren just threw himself at Richard without hesitation… Yeah. That stings. Or at least it does until Clare wanders up and grabs my hand. The simple, familiar contact instantly pulls me back, her fingers fitting neatly between mine, warm and solid. I glance down at our hands, then back at her. I wonder what it would take to get Clare to greet me the way Wren greeted Richard. Not that I’d say that out loud. But still. A hug like that… I think I’d appreciate it.
“Are you coming?” She asks, her voice light, as she glances around, looking for Roxy. Her quiet, automatic care for my familiar makes me smile, just a little. But the thing is I’m anxious as hell. I kissed her earlier and she barely reacted. She paused, sure. Went quiet for a minute or two. But then? Nothing. She’s acting just like before, like it didn’t happen at all. I know she probably hasn’t had time to think about it yet, but she doesn’t seem even remotely aware of me in that way. Clare is very good at ignoring whatever feelings she may or may not have, and I really, really wish she wouldn’t. I tighten my grip on her hand, give a gentle tug, pulling her a little closer. Then, smoothly, I hook an arm around her waist, resting my hand against her hip. The motion feels natural, she’s warm against me, and I swear she fits there perfectly. I feel the moment her thoughts flicker. A soft mental murmur, barely even conscious.
*Why is he… You know what, not the time.* And just like that she dismisses the thought. Well, damn. Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. But… At least she isn’t pushing me away.
Inside the bar, Wren is sitting with Richard, talking animatedly, his whole demeanor lighter, more relaxed. The tension from before, the panic, the desperation to escape, it’s all gone. Apparently, the two of them have a lot of catching up to do. Richard still has a firm hand on Wren’s wrist, making sure he can’t run, but the funny thing is, Wren isn’t trying anymore. He could be faking it, biding his time until he gets another chance, but… I don’t think so. He wants to be here. Or, at the very least, he wants to talk to Richard. It’s just that damn demon deal. If he has a chance to return to Solem, he’s going to take it, whether he wants to or not. Lindy sits on Richard’s other side, nodding along, listening quietly. She’s quiet, and her presence is easy, natural even, like she belongs there, like she’s always been part of this particular circle. Not wanting to interrupt, Clare leads me toward the bar, where Rina and Torin are already deep in conversation.
“So he can stay in my old room. But someone really should stay with him. He’s only a kid.” Rina says, arms crossed, expression thoughtful. It’s good that she’s concerned. Most people are afraid of necromancers. Sheltering one, especially one who’s been actively committing illegal acts, could get anyone into serious trouble. But Rina? She’s in love with a demon. If anyone understands what it’s like to be judged for something beyond your control, it’s her. And from what I’ve seen in Torin’s thoughts, she has a very accepting personality. She doesn’t just tolerate things, she embraces them, learns from them, lets people be who they are. But honestly? I think Clare might be even more accepting. She lets me get so close to her without hesitation. She doesn’t shield her thoughts from me, doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about what I might see. That kind of trust… It’s addictive. I’ve never had it before. People are always guarded around me. Always careful. Always aware that I could slip inside their minds if I wanted to. But Clare? She just lets me in. Not just in the obvious, deliberate way like when she speaks to me in her mind, but in the little things. The way she brushes against me without thinking. The way she lets me hold her hand. The way she leans into my touch like it’s natural, like she wants me there. Every time she lets me close, every time she touches me like it’s nothing, it’s like she’s proving, over and over, that she trusts me. That she accepts me and I don’t know what to do with that. Because I think I could get used to it and I really don’t want to lose it.
We go over arrangements with Torin and Rina, discussing how best to keep Wren safe and, more importantly, contained. Richard immediately volunteers to play babysitter whenever he’s free. Wren objects to the phrasing, but before he can launch into a full blown argument, he meets Rina’s kitten, Crash. A tiny, chaotic orange furball. And just like that, he forgets to be offended. Honestly, it’s almost comical how fast his priorities shift. One second, he’s bristling at the idea of being babysat, the next, he’s completely entranced by a kitten. I should probably be concerned about how easily he’s distracted. But honestly? I’ll take the win. Torin, meanwhile, grumbles about leaving Richard unsupervised in his bar. Rina reassures him it’ll be fine. She even offers to stay and help, but Torin immediately shuts that idea down. I can’t quite tell if he’s against the idea of her playing bodyguard, or if he just doesn’t like the idea of her being left alone with Richard. Either way, he reluctantly agrees to let Richard watch Wren for the day. Though, judging by the sheer number of glares he keeps throwing Richard’s way, I highly doubt Richard will be doing much of anything while he’s here. Honestly? He’ll probably spend most of the time sitting in a corner, carefully not touching anything. At night, Torin insists on keeping watch himself. Rina makes it very clear that Wren will not be allowed in the bar while they’re open for business. Apparently, she’s more worried about him being underage around alcohol than she is about the fact that he can literally raise the dead. …Odd priorities. The conversation drags on, long and exhausting. Clare and I have to promise Rina at least a dozen times that this is only a temporary solution, and that we are actively working on something better. By the time Clare finally decides we can leave, I could kiss her for it. Hell, I don’t need a reason to want to kiss her. Still, the point is I’m exhausted. The only thing making this entire conversation bearable is Clare leaning against my side, warm and comfortable. I know we slept in. I know we’ve only been awake for a few hours. But my whole body clock, my entire routine, is completely thrown off. Right now, I just want to curl up and sleep. Preferably with Clare.