I felt something twitch against my neck.
"Squeaker?" I murmured. Great. My pet rat I had given to Mo when we came to Hortense had escaped, again. There would be rat crap in my bed. I brushed him from my chest. "Stupid little rodent-"
His tail was obese, scaly, and much too large. It coiled around my wrist like a bracelet then wended its way through my fingers. The bed I laid on shifted, and my pillow sighed.
Was the ghost of pissed Eve gone? Was I finally back to being a nineteen year old aspiring e-girl who streamed real-life demon fanfics while eating Hot Cheetos?
Where in the damn tarnation was I?
What funky room was this?
Where was that bastard Samael?
"Hello, lamb."
Pillows. Sighing? It must have been the grub Jesus picked up from a haint diner for me while I was moping. Twenty-four hours later, and it still cast its sick spell on me.
