Alex found him three days later.
Dario was sitting in the campus coffee shop, working on an essay for his literature class, when a familiar voice said, "Mind if I join you?"
He looked up to find Alex standing beside his table, holding two cups of coffee.
"I brought you a peace offering," Alex said, setting one cup in front of Dario. "Dark roast, no sugar. I'm good at guessing what people like."
"How did you—"
"Know you'd be here? Lucky guess." Alex sat down across from him. "Actually, I asked your girlfriend. Sarah, right? She mentioned you like to study here in the afternoons."
Dario wrapped his hands around the coffee cup, using the warmth to steady himself. "She's not my girlfriend."
"No? You could have fooled me at the party. She was very... territorial."
"We're dating, but we haven't... it's not official."
"Ah." Alex leaned back in his chair, studying Dario with those unsettling dark eyes. "And how do you feel about that?"
"About what?"
"About her territorial behavior. About being claimed by someone who doesn't really know you."
Dario's grip tightened on the coffee cup. "You don't know anything about Sarah."
"I know she's smart, ambitious, and genuinely cares about you. I also know she has no idea what you really are."
The words hit like a physical blow. Dario glanced around the coffee shop, but no one was paying attention to their conversation.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly.
"Don't you?" Alex leaned forward, voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Tell me, Dario, do you ever feel like you're watching your life from the outside? Like there's someone else sharing your experiences, commenting on your choices?"
He knows, Cassius said, suddenly very present in Dario's mind. He knows about us.
"How—" Dario started, then stopped himself.
"How do I know?" Alex smiled, and for a moment, his features seemed to shift, becoming sharper, more angular. "Because I'm like you. Different. Special. Burdened with a consciousness that doesn't quite fit in this mundane world."
"You're plural too?"
"Plural." Alex seemed to taste the word. "Is that what you call it? How... clinical. I prefer to think of it as evolution."
Dario stared at him. In all his years of living with Cassius, he'd never met anyone else who understood what it was like. He'd begun to think they were completely alone.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Alex Morrison, philosophy major, coffee enthusiast, and chronic insomniac. I'm also the current vessel for someone much older and significantly more powerful than your average college student."
"Like Cassius."
Alex's eyes sharpened. "Cassius? Now that's an interesting name. Roman, if I'm not mistaken. God of something, I'd wager?"
"Demons," Dario said before he could stop himself.
"Demons." Alex laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "How delightfully dramatic. My companion prefers the term 'fallen angel,' though I think that's rather pretentious."
This is dangerous, Cassius warned. We should leave.
But Dario found himself rooted to his chair, fascinated despite the warning bells going off in his head.
"What's his name?" he asked.
"Lucian. He's... particular about introductions. Prefers to make them himself."
As Alex spoke, something shifted in his posture, his expression. The casual college student facade melted away, replaced by something ancient and amused.
"Hello, Dario," he said, though his voice carried undertones that seemed to echo from somewhere deep. "And hello, Cassius. It's been a long time."