Silence filled the car, heavy and close.
The engine hummed beneath them, a low mechanical whisper as the tires traced the worn asphalt. Outside, the world blurred into dark shapes and muted streetlights. Inside, it felt like time had slowed.
Lawley drove like someone trained to expect the worst. Straight-backed. Both hands tight on the wheel. Her gaze flicked between the road and the mirrors, never resting for long. She looked like she was waiting for the next thing to jump out and ruin her night.
Felix didn't blame her. She'd just gotten a front-row seat to the part of the world most people never even glimpsed. The part that howled and burned and broke the rules.
In the backseat, he slouched with his hood down and arms folded across his chest. His head rested against the window, eyes half-lidded like he might doze off at any second, but the way they tracked the shadows said otherwise.
Up front, Harry sat stiff as a statue, his seatbelt drawn taut like it might keep the world out. He hadn't said a word since they got in.
The silence stretched, thick and brittle.
Five minutes passed before Harry broke it.
"If you think about it," he said, voice still a little shaky, "we've survived almost every horror movie trope."
Lawley didn't look at him. Her expression didn't move.
"Haunted cabin? Check. Demon dog? Check. Witch on the loose? Also check. And hey, I didn't piss myself. Just a couple scratches and an elevated heart rate. Honestly? I'm calling it a win."
Felix let a small smirk break across his face. "I'm so proud of you, champ."
Lawley finally spoke, her voice steady and clipped. "You're lucky that's all that happened. You both could've died."
Felix tapped his fingers against his bicep with mock thoughtfulness. "Maybe Harry. But me? Nah. I'm not that easy to kill."
Lawley shot him a sidelong glance. "Glad to see modesty's still alive and kicking."
He shrugged, completely unfazed. "I never said I was immortal. Just... inconvenient to murder."
Her mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Great. Cocky and inconvenient to murder is a great combo."
Felix smirked. "Makes me a real hit at parties. Also funerals."
He leaned back, eyes half-lidded. "Mostly other people's."
They fell quiet again as the town drifted by. Hollow storefronts rolled past the windows like relics from a forgotten past. Dark houses lined the street, porch lights flickering on one by one like wary sentinels. It was a town trying hard to seem normal, pretending the shadows hadn't consumed the town.
Eventually, the car turned onto Harry's street. It was quiet. Too quiet.
Lawley pulled to a stop in front of a squat little house that looked like it had seen better decades. Plastic flamingos leaned awkwardly in the front yard. The mailbox sagged, duct-taped like a broken limb. One of the porch lights flickered.
Harry stared at the front door with his hand on the handle, like he wasn't quite ready to get out.
"As much as I enjoyed our brush with death," he said, "do I have to worry about this getting worse?"
Felix looked up at him from the backseat, voice flat. "Harry. It always gets worse."
Harry sighed. "Awesome. Guess I'll never sleep again."
He stepped out, but paused, half-turned in the open door.
"Don't get arrested before homeroom."
Felix held up two fingers in a lazy salute. "No promises."
Before Harry could close the door, Lawley leaned across and handed him a small white card.
"Here," she said. "If you see or hear anything strange, you call me. No hesitation. Got it?"
Felix took it and twirled it once between his fingers. "Loud and clear, Detective Lawley."
Harry shut the door and walked up to the house. They all watched him fumble for his keys, open the door, and step inside. A few moments later, the porch light steadied and the living room lit up from within. Curtains shifted, just barely.
Safe, Lawley thought. At least for now.
She stared at the house for a second longer, then pulled away without another word.
They drove two blocks in total silence. Just the steady hum of the engine and the occasional rattle of something loose in the dashboard. Outside, the night slid past in streaks of gold and shadow.
Then Lawley spoke.
"So," she said, eyes still locked on the road, "what are you?"
Felix didn't answer right away. He didn't even shift. Just leaned his head against the window and watched the blurred world roll by.
"You want the honest answer," he said after a beat, "or the cryptic monologue version?"
Lawley's jaw tightened. "I want the truth."
Felix didn't answer right away. He just sat there, watching the city bleed past the window like an old film reel.
Then, calmly, like it wasn't even strange anymore, he said, "I'm what's called a cambion."
Lawley frowned slightly. "A what now?"
"Cambion. The result of a union between a human and a demon."
She blinked. "That's… real?"
"Oh yeah. Very real. Rare as hell, though. Last I checked, there's only two confirmed cases in the modern world. Me... and Merlin."
Lawley turned her head slowly. "Wait. Merlin? As in, King Arthur's court Merlin?"
Felix gave a half-nod. "The wizard himself. As far as I know."
"You're telling me Merlin was half demon?"
"That's the rumor. Born of a maiden mortal woman and a demon father. Sound familiar?"
She stared at him. "Holy shit."
Felix raised an eyebrow. "Still not taking my calls."
She shook her head once, as if trying to reboot her worldview. "So why's it so rare?"
He sighed, eyes drifting up to the ceiling of the car like he was pulling answers from a place he hated visiting.
"Well, for starters, demons aren't built for love. Not really. They can mimic it, manipulate it, feed off it. But feel it? Not so much. Doesn't stop some of them from trying though. Obsession's a hell of a drug."
Lawley swallowed hard but said nothing.
Felix continued, quieter now. "And even if a demon does manage to get a human pregnant, it usually ends badly. Really bad. The baby either eats the mother from within or burns through the womb like wildfire. The mother and child never survive."
Her voice dropped. "But your mother did?"
He didn't look at her. Just nodded once. "Barely. Gave birth to me in a bathtub on a stormy night, then spent the next seven years trying to pretend I was normal until the voices inside her head got louder and the walls started bleeding. Then came the bathtub again, this time with different intentions."
Lawley exhaled, long and low.
"So you were the lucky one."
Felix let out a humorless chuckle. "I wouldn't call it luck. More like being given a shitty hand in life."
The car went quiet again.
Outside, the city rolled by in faded storefronts and flickering neon. A man in a raincoat shuffled along the sidewalk, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. A red light painted the interior of the car, made Felix's features look sharper. Less human.
Lawley gripped the wheel harder. "You said you're trying to help people. That you fight monsters."
Felix nodded. "Yeah."
The light turned green. Lawley eased off the brake, eyes still forward, voice steady.
"So… you hunt monsters."
"Yeah."
"And you're half demon."
"Also true."
She gave it a second, then asked the question that had clearly been sitting on her tongue for miles.
"So what exactly can you do?"
Felix raised an eyebrow, like he was waiting for that one.
"You mean besides finding trouble wherever I go and doing things I know I'll regret?"
She didn't bite. Just stared straight ahead.
He sighed. "Depends. Some things I was born with. Others... developed."
"Like what?"
Felix held up a hand and flicked his fingers. For a split second, the air shimmered—like heat rising off asphalt. A faint blue glow sparked across his palm, dancing like embers, then vanished as quickly as it came.
"Hellfire," he said simply. "It burns like regular fire, sure. But it cuts deeper. Flesh, spirit, soul. Doesn't really care what you're made of."
Lawley glanced at him, lips pressed tight.
"I can also see through illusions, sense negative emotions, sense demonic presences from a few miles out. Oh, and I've got a healing factor."
"And the eyes?" she asked. "They flash red sometimes."
Felix nodded. "Compulsion. I can push thoughts. Make people see things. Do things. It's limited, but it gets the job done."
"That sounds like mind control."
"Not quite. More like… suggestion on steroids. People who've been subjected to it so many times and those with strong wills can resist. You could, probably."
She gave a half-skeptical look. "Flattering."
"Just honest."
Lawley tapped the wheel. Her mind was working, fast. "So you're dangerous."
Felix gave a crooked smile. "Everyone's dangerous. I'm just moreso."
She didn't respond right away.
Instead, she asked, "And how much control do you have over it?"
Felix went quiet.
Long enough for her to glance back at him again.
Finally, he said, "Most days? Enough."
Lawley didn't answer for a while. Just let that settle. Eventually, her voice dropped lower.
"And those girls. Was it... demons?"
Felix looked away again. His breath fogged the glass.
"It's complicated," he said. "But yeah. Something like that."
They rolled to a red light. It cast the interior of the car in a wash of crimson. Lawley's jaw clenched, muscles tight beneath the skin.
"And you're going after it alone?"
Felix kept his eyes on the window.
"I don't do teams. Never worked out for me. People like me don't get sidekicks. They get collateral damage."
The light stayed red. Long enough to feel wrong. Lawley didn't move.
Her voice was quiet, but certain.
"You're not the monster here, kid."
Felix blinked. Turned toward her slowly.
Lawley kept her eyes on the light. "I've seen real monsters. I've looked them in the face. You're not it."
Felix gave her a small, tired smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Don't jinx it."
POLICE PRECINCT
The precinct was quiet at this hour. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing the beige walls in tired, sterile light. A radio murmured somewhere in the distance. No one looked up when they walked in—just another cop, just another weird night.
Lawley led Felix through the front, past the desk sergeant, into one of the smaller briefing rooms. The door clicked shut behind them.
She dropped into the chair across from him, posture still stiff with leftover adrenaline. Felix didn't sit right away. He stood by the wall for a moment, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the cluttered bulletin board behind her.
Then he finally slid into the seat across from her.
Neither of them spoke.
Lawley looked like she was still trying to put the pieces together.
Felix reached into his hoodie pocket.
He pulled something out and slid it across the table without a word.
The dog tag scraped against the table.
Lawley glanced down.
The dog tag was still warm from his pocket.
She took it. It was heavier than she expected.
The engraving was faded, nearly gone, but the words were still legible.
IF FOUND, RETURN TO CHERYL MILLER.
Lawley's breath hitched.
She looked up at Felix. "That can't be right."
"You know her?"
"Yeah." Her voice was stiff. "Her husband, Ben, took his own life last year. Hung himself in their garage."
"But she can't be the witch.."
Felix nodded, watching her face carefully. "Loss like that breaks people. Sometimes things… slip in through the fractures."
Lawley shook her head, almost too quickly. "That can't be right," she said, voice tighter now. "She's a nurse. She volunteers. She's... not this."
He raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"She's not a witch."
Felix snorted quietly. "Think about it. Husband dies by suicide, and not long after, you've got a grieving widow whispering to the dark, hoping someone or something answers back. People make deals they don't understand all the time."
"But she wouldn't hurt anyone."
Felix shrugged. "Everyone's got a line. Most people don't know where it is until something shoves them over it."
Lawley didn't say anything.
Felix leaned against the table, staring out across the glass window. His brow furrowed. A flicker of memory burned behind his eyes.
"Did Cheryl have kids?" he asked.
Lawley hesitated.
"Yeah. Lily. Lily Miller. Quiet kid. Kept to herself. I've known her since she was little. Sweet. Shy. Never caused trouble."
Felix's eyes sharpened just slightly. "How was she at school?"
Lawley glanced over. "Why?"
"Because Ana Cruz and her two besties are missing," he said. His voice was calm, but something colder sat underneath it. "And what they all had in common..." He let the words hang for a moment, before finishing, quieter, "Was a history of bullying."
There was a pause. Lawley's face began to harden.
"No," she said firmly. "No. Lily's a victim in all this. She's not—"
"Victims snap," Felix cut in, gently but without room to argue. "You know that. I know that. You've seen it before."
Lawley opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Her jaw worked in silence.
The air in the room felt heavier, like the pressure had shifted.
"I'm not saying it's her," Felix continued. "Not yet. But the way this thing operates... the ritual markings, the emotional fuel, the revenge angle? It all tracks. Especially if something… pushed her."
Lawley dragged a hand across her forehead and rubbed her temples. "Even if it's connected, even if it has something to do with Cheryl or Lily, I can't arrest a teenager on a hunch and a scorched dog tag. That's not how this works, Felix."
He nodded, arms folded across his chest. "I know. I'm not asking you to. But if Lily is involved—if she's being used, or worse, if she started something she can't stop.. We need evidence. Something solid. A pattern. A motive. Proof that matters."
She looked at him carefully, her expression unreadable. "And you think you're gonna find that where, exactly? School?"
Felix gave a slight tilt of his head. "Better chance than kicking in her front door. High school gossip travels faster than demons. If Ana and her friends were really tormenting Lily, someone saw it. Might've even filmed it."
Lawley leaned back, arms crossed, giving him a dry look. "Look at you. Hall Monitor of the Year."
Felix's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Never really got to go. I missed the part where you learn your times tables."
She blinked. "Wait. Never?"
He shook his head, a touch of sarcasm flickering in his tone. "What I had wasn't exactly a 'normal childhood' situation. Most days, I was too busy patching up my mom and making sure she took all her medication. School didn't exactly make the schedule."
"Jesus," Lawley muttered under her breath.
Felix offered her a dry smile. "Still not on speaking terms with him, either."
That pulled a reluctant chuckle out of her. "I always hated school too. High school was the worst. I didn't fit in with the cheerleaders or the science club. Just this tall, angry girl with too much eyeliner and a right hook that got me in trouble more than once."
Felix laughed for real, the sound short but honest. "Yeah, I can see that. Desk full of detention slips, reputation for breaking noses?"
"Only the ones that deserved it," Lawley said with a grin. "Usually the ones who thought girls were supposed to shut up and smile."
For a moment, something passed between them. A quiet understanding. Different lives, different scars, but the same jagged edges underneath.
Then Lawley's expression shifted again. Concern crept in.
"You've got a place to stay tonight?"
Felix looked away and ran a thumb along his sleeve. "Motel 6 by the freeway. Room smells like mildew and crushed dreams, but hey—at least the vending machine still works."
Lawley wrinkled her nose. "That place is barely up to code. You can't keep crashing there."
"I've slept in worse." He shrugged. "Besides, the roof doesn't leak. Much."
She stood, grabbing her coat and keys. "Come on. I'll drive you."
Felix raised a hand, casually. "Appreciate it, but I'll walk."
"It's late."
"I like the quiet."
"It's cold."
"I've got a hoodie."
She gave him a flat look. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm giving you a ride. That's final."
She turned toward the coat rack.
But when she turned back, he was gone.
No footsteps. No door creak. No flicker of movement. Just… gone. Like he'd evaporated in thin air.
Lawley blinked at the empty space he'd left behind. Her jaw tightened.
"Little shit."
She crossed the room and glanced out the nearest window, but the sidewalk outside was empty. Only the quiet hum of streetlights and the distant buzz of the vending machine down the hall kept her company.
She sighed. Walked back to the table. Sat down heavily.
Her fingers found the dog tag again. She turned it over slowly, tracing the name etched in the metal.
"Cheryl Miller," she whispered. "What the hell happened to you?"
Outside, a gust of wind stirred the branches. Something distant howled across the rooftops.
And behind it all, the silence returned.