Convoke

Chapter 45

The day before the fair, tourists started turning up from the moment the pub opened at eleven. Tom decided to return to work now that his face didn't hurt as much. Ezra had been called on soul stripper duties during the night and returned only thirty minutes ago, so he was in the bedroom, catching up on sleep in preparation for his shift that evening.

Cal sat in front of him at the bar, stirring a spoon mindlessly around his coffee. He looked tired, run down, and was far too quiet.

"Have you heard anything from Harper?" Tom asked.

"No." Cal rested his chin on his palm. "I miss her."

Tom chucked him a packet of crisps. "You were good together. It's a shame she's being like this." He wanted to talk to Cal about the demon meetings, and how they think that maybe the angels are up to something with the rise in violence, but Cal had a lot going on. His dad got his car and driver's licence taken away. His girlfriend had broken up with him, and locals in the village are being weird with him too.

"It's not her. I know it's not. But I just . . . I feel like I've lost her."

Tom pursed his lips and patted his arm. "Maybe she'll come around and realise how horrible she's being. Maybe I should talk to her?"

"Or maybe she won't. I doubt she'll want to listen to you."

Tom hated seeing his best friend so glum, but he had nothing useful to offer him, so all he could do was listen and be there for him.

The pub filled up with an equal mix of regulars and tourists. He offered them flyers for the fair with a list of what stalls would be on, and the events through the day. The angel's choir seemed to be an exciting topic for the older tourists. The food stalls were popular among everyone.

As Tom talked to a couple about the history of the pub, Ezra surfaced, freshly showered with damp black hair, a black t-shirt that showed his demon mark, and two plates of pie and chips for Tom and Cal's dinner.

The couple suddenly stopped listening to Tom and widened their eyes when he felt Ezra's hand brushing the space between his shoulder blades.

"From your mum," Ezra said quietly, giving him the food. Declan had followed him down, ready to take over while Tom had a break.

"Thank you, Ez," he said with a smile, ignoring the way the tourists snatched their pints and sat as far away from the bar as possible. "Have you eaten?"

"I have." Ezra sat next to Cal, anxiously glancing around at the new faces who were judging him.

The shift in atmosphere was noticeable. Tom stayed behind the bar, holding his plate and cramming in his food, making sure to stare out those who were glaring at Ezra. After months, the locals were only just warming to him, and now he had to deal with it all over again with people who didn't even live in the area.

The woman who had been talking to Tom about the pub's history returned to the bar. "Is this a demon friendly pub?" she asked with a tight lip and narrowed eyes.

"Yes," Tom and Declan said in unison.

"Right . . . " she tapped her fingers against the bar. "It's just that we feel a little uncomfortable."

"Well-" Declan crossed arms over his chest. "There's a pub ten miles from here, they've banned demons. Go there."

The woman gawked as if she had expected Declan to ask Ezra to leave. "Ten miles? We travelled here by train. Is there a bus?"

"No," Declan said, knowing there was one, but it was every hour, and the next bus stop was half a mile away. "You can walk, or deal with demons being in here."