Page 23 of My Demon Neighbor
Nine
Codie
It'd been three dayssince I went over to Pythor's place. I hadn't done it again, but he'd come over twice since, once for a class, and then again yesterday evening because he'd texted me to say the soup I was making smelled delicious, and I'd invited him over for dinner. He'd arrived with a box of cookies—made by one of his brothers, he'd explained—and we'd eaten potato soup—my mom's recipe, and a comfort food of mine—in front of the TV while Hella snoozed at our feet.
Spending time with Pythor was easy and comfortable, and for once I wasn't spending all my days painting.
Like right now, instead of working on my current project, I was looking through the security feed of last week like a stalker weirdo. There were clips of Pythor and I playing catch with Hella that I loved watching again and again, but most of the recordings just had Pythor going to and fromhis house.
I came upon the one of him coming over yesterday, and I stopped to watch the whole thing since I hadn't seen this one yet.
My brows furrowed as I watched him climb down the three steps empty-handed. Where were the cookies he'd shown up with? Had he gone over to his brother's to pick them up first?
Before I could check the timestamp, he stopped in the middle of the street, a scowl on his face as he pulled his phone out and stared at it for a moment before typing something. Then he stuck his phone in his pocket and held his hands out, palms up. What the hell?
A second passed, and suddenly, there was the box of cookies, sitting in his hands. Seriously,what the hell?
I played it back, eyeing the timestamp to make sure the video wasn't skipping ahead for some reason, but nope. The box seemed to appear out of thin air.
As I watched it again and again, it clicked that this wasn't the first time it'd happened. I remembered the paintbrushes and notepad I'd waved off as a glitch in the recording, and went back to search for those videos so I could watch them again.
After I'd seen them all one by one, it was clear something was up. They'd all appeared out of thin air, and it wasn't a glitch in the video. But then what else could it be, magic?
Magic wasn't real, was it? Was Pythor, my neighbor, self-defense instructor, and friend a... what, a witch?
I eyed Hella, who was spread out over the rest of the couch, and wondered if she was his familiar or something. But weren't those usually blackcats?
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at my steadily declining thoughts. I hoped this wasn't just some big hallucination my broken mind had come up with.
Should I confront Pythor, or ignore the whole thing? What if I told him, and he acted like I'd made up the whole thing? What if Ihad,and he decided I was crazy and never wanted to see me again?
I watched the videos again, sure I wasn't imagining what I was seeing. The notepad, pen, paintbrushes, and the box of cookies had appeared out of nowhere.
Maybe I needed a second opinion, to make sure I wasn't crazy. But if I showed these to Nessa, and if I really wasn't imagining things, she would want to know what Pythor was too, wouldn't she?
I had a feeling that whatever he was—and it was strange to think of him as anything but human, because how could there be anything else?—had to be a secret. What if telling Nessa put her in danger? I couldn't do that to her, or Alia.
Nope, I had to keep it to myself, crazy as the whole thing was.
I didn't know if I would even ask Pythor. Did it really matter what he was, as long as he was my friend?
I couldn't deny that I was curious. If he really had magic, what else could he do? Could he snap his fingers and make me better, or was that too much to expect?
Shaking my head, I clicked my tablet off and decided to put a pause to my musings before they got any crazier.
"Come on, Hella. Let's make some art," I said as I got to my feet, and Hella hopped up quickly, following at my heels as I went into my studio.
Instead of working on my latest commission, orthatpainting, I grabbed a roll of thick paper and spread it on the floor. Then I grabbed some pet-safe paint I'd ordered last week, and colored Hella's paws.
She seemed to understand her mission instantly, and she jumped onto the paper before dancing all over it. I added different colors to her paws in between, but mostly watched her go crazy until every inch of white was covered.
When we were both satisfied with our work, I carried her into the bathroom and helped her wash off so she wouldn't leave colorful pawprints everywhere. Then I toweled them dry as she waited patiently like the goodest girl she was.
Once she was clean and dry, we went back to the studio, where I found a frame in the right size and eyed our masterpiece. I had to wait for it to dry before I could frame it, but I thought it would make an excellent gift for Pythor.
"What do you think, Hella? Will he like it?"
She gave a loud 'woof' as her tail wagged rapidly, and I grinned, then leaned down to kiss the column of her snout before booping her nose.
