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“Sorry.” I tap my fingers on my leg. Maybe better just to blurt it all out. “Orion’s not human. He’s a shadow monster.”

Fitzie’s reddish brows slowly draw down. “Is that some kind of code?”

“It’s not.” I suck at this. Officially. I desperately cast around for a better way — or a distraction — but nothing comes up. How did Syril do this?

They handed you the amulet and told you to put it on.

Clumsily, I dig the two amulets out of my pocket and drop them on the table. One I’m intimately familiar with — the dark red gem winks at me from its demure setting. The other is bright blue-green, dancing with an inner fire. For some reason, it suits Fitzie. It feelsrightfor him to have it. I push it across the table.

“Plato’s a minotaur. And the cook, Larch, he’s a gargoyle. There are these monsters called riiga who can breathe underwater — like mermaids, except kinda creepy. AndLysander is…" I swallow. Fitzie is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “… a fairy prince.”

“Ez, are you sure you’re okay?” He touches the back of my hand, and it’s so unexpected I almost get emotional. “You’re still clean, right?”

I squeeze his hand tightly. “Yeah. I’m okay, Fitzie. I’m actually pretty damn good. Just put the necklace on.”

“Okay.” He pulls his hand back, but he doesn’t take the amulet. “You’re telling me your coworkers are all, like, supernatural beings?”

“Monsters.”

“Even your boyfriend?”

“He’s not…" I break off at his look.

“Sorry, I should’ve saidfairy with benefits.” He rolls his eyes.

I groan. “I deserved that.”

“You expect me to believe he’s a fairy prince, but you don’t have feelings for him?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. You know, cause he’s a fairy. And a prince.”

Fitzie’s gaze drops to the amulets, then back to me.

“At least take it,” I tell him. “You can decide later.”

Syril gave me a choice — stay in their world, or leave empty-handed. I can’t do that to Fitzie. I trust him with my life and I know he’d never betray that trust, and the rest of the monster world is just gonna have to trust him alongside me.

Reluctantly, Fitzie picks it up by the cord. “I believe you.”

“I know.”

“I just need time. On the scale of weird shit you’ve told me, this is pretty high.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him. “The truth isn’t going anywhere. Tell me this is better than getting a call from jail, though.”

“Nothing will top that, asshole.” He gives me a shaky smile. “I can’t believe they let your sorry ass stick around here.”

I laugh. “Me neither. Guess Syril was having an off day.”

I leave my amulet off. It feels weird, especially when Lysander comes down, but from the looks Fitzie keeps shooting at him it’s the right move. The bar gets busier in anticipation of the show — Bear’s doing a rope demo with a willing nymph, which I hope Lysander will be okay about.

Fitzie leans in when Lysander disappears to get drinks. “What does he really look like?”

“Pretty,” I tell him without really thinking, and Fitzie chokes on a laugh.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up. He’s gorgeous. Uh, green, I guess. Like, a kind of… delicate blue-ish green.” I wrack my brains trying to find the words to describe Lysander. What did I think of him the first time I saw him for real? Shortly after that I watched him get tied up and suspended and my brain melted into a puddle, so I might be biased. “He’s delicate all over, really.”