Eva
Once Eva and Monroe arrived back at the shop, about twenty minutes over their hour break, she tried to ignore everyone's amused stares. Especially Simon's since she was still upset with him.
With her mother and Lowell in the back working on analytical data, and her father and Monroe looking over last week's inventory, that left her and Simon manning the front of the house.
He was in her usual seat while she continued her dusting and organizing from before lunch.
It was quiet, as usual after the store reopened from its break, but Eva knew this silence was awkward. Her brother even tried to break it once or twice, joking with her about what a great job she was doing or the concentration it took dust. Normally, she would have dished it back with a quippy retort of him being lazy, but not today.
She was adamant about giving him the silent treatment, and she knew he could tell. His normal joking was now forced.
"Bruh, stop trippin’ witcho big head ass.” She heard as her brother stood from their squeaky chair and she tensed with his vexed whisper. “They're gonna think somethin’s up."
She didn't look at him while he walked towards her, or as he stood next to her with crossed arms.
"You really not gonna talk to me." A hushed statement of disbelief that Eva scrunched her face at but still never took her attention from her task.
With a roll of his eyes and a huff that she saw from the corner of her own eye, he mumbled a “fine, damn” which finally made her give her attention.
He groaned. “You didn't snitch like I thought you would, so… yeah, thanks, headass."
Not an apology but still, Eva was grateful for the praise. Sort of. In the way one would be thankful for a backhanded compliment. Which was what he'd just given. But she knew that was the best she was going to get from her immature older brother.
She didn't think he'd actually hurt her last night. Unlike Dante who'd intervened. They'd gotten into petty sibling fights before but he'd never actually hurt her.
"I'm sorry for what I said last night." She mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. He shrugged with an apology for his anger and a comment on Dante always pissing him off that Eva ignored.
He opened his arms for an embrace and she easily gave it. Only, when he winced at the contact, she pulled away concerned.
"Bruh, are you okay? Are you hurt?" Her hand reached out to touch his side but he swept it away with a mumble of how he was fine and for her not to worry about it.
"Mind your business; let it go." He stepped away from her and she caught his bad arm to stop him. He grimaced again.
"If it has anything to do with protecting me, yeah, it my business." Her voice rose and he shushed her, glancing towards the back to make sure no one heard them. "Did you get that last night?"
He hesitated but gave a nonchalant “yeah” that she wasn't sure she believed.
Regardless, she apologized softly only to have him brush her off.
"Look." He became serious, taking her arms in his hands. "This whole thing is too dangerous for you. Just give me the necklace, okay? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you."
She saw the intensity in his eyes as he looked down at her, and felt the pain in them. She almost nodded and complied, putting a tentative hand to the pendant at her chest.
But her eyes darted to Monroe, who was now standing behind her brother offering his reassurance.
"Nothing is going to happen to her." He placed a hand on his shoulder in what was supposed to be a compassionate gesture. "We'll keep each other safe."
Simon's body language tensed before the man had even spoken. He'd seen the slight hesitation in his sister and noticed her distracted gaze shift to behind him.
"This isn't some damn PBS special," he snapped, shaking off Monroe’s arm and finally releasing Eva before storming out of the shop.
The rest of her family had only seen the angry departure and were confused by the scene he'd just caused. Their parents looked to Lowell for answers but her more levelheaded brother only shrugged with a mumble of not being his brother's keeper.
His comment of not knowing what runs through his mind was interrupted by Monroe asking if Lowell wouldn't mind watching the front of the shop.
"I wanted to show Evanora some low-grade potions." He looked at her parents. "With your permission, of course?"
Her mother looked to her husband for confirmation who shrugged slightly. "I don't see why that would be a problem."
Waving them off, her mother's smile widened, and just as she and Monroe left the room, she heard her mother comment on how she'd known Monroe would be a good pick and that he was a good-looking young man.
"He'd make cute grandbabies." She'd half-whispered to her husband.
Eva felt her face go hot with embarrassment that she tried to rub off by hiding her face in her hands.
Just how far had they planned out her life? Kids? And to talk about her reproduction so easily? She wasn't sure she even wanted to lose her virginity at this point. She'd held out this long.
"I'm sure you get that a lot." She mumbled. "The handsome thing. Not the kid's thing."
Removing her hands she saw him shrug nonchalantly. "Your parents are nice. And she's right."
Her brow arched at his comment, and he opened the door to her parent's office.
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"I make cute babies." His tone was neutral, but it was only when he turned to her, and she saw his small, amused smile that she realized he wasn't being serious. "No, really, you should see my baby pictures. We'd make adorable Blasian babies."
"Ah, yes." She chuckled, elbowing his arm and ignoring the baby comment. "I'm sure Mama Monroe would love to flaunt them at some point."
His cheesy smile widened. "Evanora Oswald, are you saying you'd like to meet my parents?"
While she knew he was still being playful, her amusement faltered. That was an actual possibility in the near future and the reality of the situation came crashing back into her.
Meeting his parents, getting married, having children with him, big dinners with the conjoined family–
And it terrified her.
What terrified her more was when she saw little heads running in and out of a future home; their hair was snowy, and their eyes a gorgeous grey like their father's.
"Hey, I'm kidding. See, JK?” He tossed his hands up in a joking gesture when her face blanched. "I'm positive my parents would love you but I agree, that is a step far in the future."
She nodded hastily, realizing he'd misinterpreted her silence as hesitation rather than the vivid, if futile, daydreams that had taken over her mind. The idea of her and Dante together was laughable. Plus, she was certain the rules forbade such relationships. Interspecies romance was probably strictly off-limits, and probably for good reason. Still, the thought lingered, refusing to be dismissed.
He led her to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room, and when she seemed confused, he pulled at its edge revealing another shelf hidden behind it.
Various vials lined the shelves, along with some corked jars with what looked like different herbs and incense.
He looked them over for a moment, unaware of the awe running through Eva's brain.
Her sarcasm slipped out before she could stop it. "Bullshit, we're totally witches."
Monroe's features twisted in confusion. "Come again?"
When her parents had dropped bits of information about the purpose of The Society and its factions, Eva had questioned the difference between them and Kaos' other creation, Caster's. Both seemed to dabble in potion making, but her parents explained within Casters was a spark of Kaos herself while Keepers used the tools the Earth gave them, like Alchemist.
She was calling bullshit again.
Eva's eyes sparkled with skepticism. "I mean, my parents have a secret potion stash in their gimmick magic shop. What's the difference?"
Monroe's expression turned disgusted as if the idea physically repulsed him.
"Never compare us to those dangerous savages," he said, his voice low and serious.
Eva tried to keep her tone light, sensing she'd struck a nerve. "I'm sorry, I'm just confused. Dante had you get rid of the hound-thing, right?"
He stared at her a moment, the disgust settling into something more like understanding.
"And the… Vocia? Simon did some type of spell. Sounds like witchcraft to me." She continued, nudging his arm playfully.
Monroe's gaze lingered on hers as if trying to gauge her sincerity.
"You're seriously in the dark, aren't you?" he murmured, the words barely audible before nodding, seeming to decide something. "The difference is we use magic for humanity, not against it. Unlike Kaos' Casters, The Society fought back against the Primordials' terror. It will always be us versus them."
As he began to explain the war between The Society and the Primordials, Eva's mind reeled with questions. Could the Malevolent not just cross over? Why didn't they retaliate after the rift?
Monroe's tone turned grim, expression darkening. "They did. We fought back. And will continue to fight back. That's why our potions are different from the Casters'. We don't have their magic. We're not just brewing concoctions; we're working with the remnants of the world's magic, trying to restore balance and protect humanity. It's a delicate art and one that requires precision and control. Something they lack.”
With a subtle shift in his demeanor, Monroe's gaze turned to the shelves, his eyes scanning the rows of vials filled with an assortment of liquids. Some shimmering, others glowing, and a few that seemed to shift and writhe like living things. "Let me show you what I mean."
He plucked a small, cylindrical vial from the shelf, its contents glowing with a warm, golden light that seemed to pulse with an inner radiance. The liquid itself was thick and syrupy, with a shimmer that caught the light like tiny sparks.
"This one is basically lightning in a bottle," he said, handing it to Eva. "It eliminates shadows, so we use it as a distraction."
Monroe carefully returned the golden vial to its shelf and selected another, this one slightly wider and filled with a pale green liquid that seemed to ripple and flow like water.
"This one, on the other hand, is more... caustic," he said, his voice taking on a hint of warning. "It won't kill them, but it'll hurt lower- and mid-level demons."
"What about powerful ones?" She skimmed over the shelves for anything she thought would be useful, but the labels weren't helpful. They all seemed to be either symbol-coded or in another language. And if there was an order, Eva certainly couldn't figure it out. "Demons, I mean."
"Hopefully, you won't have to deal with that." He took the potion from her gently and placed it back in its original slot. "And if you do, you have me."
"And Dante,” she added, noting he'd put the golden one near the other bright yellow vials.
"Yes." He hesitated and the answer sounded almost confused, making her wonder if he didn't like her bringing up Dante.
It wasn't like she wanted either of them around. She really just wanted to be able to protect herself.
As Monroe reached for another potion, Eva's gaze drifted to the gun on his belt and the dagger sheathed on his thigh. Compared to Dante's arsenal, Monroe's seemed almost inadequate. The contrast sparked a flutter of unease in her chest.
How had Monroe become a Reaper, while her brothers hadn't? And what about her? Was it even possible for her to be a Reaper? The thought of being defenseless against the unknown threats that lurked in the shadows terrified her. Not just for herself, but for her family. She wanted them to start training her immediately, to teach her how to protect herself and those she loved.
She forced her attention back to the potions, trying to focus on the symbols etched into the bottles. Monroe's patience and generosity calmed her anxiety, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to be prepared.
His phone pinged in his pocket and he stepped away from her to check the message that had come through. He'd nearly been wrapping things up anyway, and she knew her window of opportunity was closing. While his back was to her, she quickly snatched a few bottles from their shelf, hoping he'd been too distracted with his texting.
She stuffed three vials in her jacket pocket; the first two he'd shown her and one he'd mentioned would open a portal upon contact with a demon. It would suck them in like a vacuum.
When she'd asked where it took them, he'd explained how most demons were difficult to kill, and most ended up being respawned in the Nether, even if it took a while. She had more questions about the Nether but he'd said that was a lesson for another day.
When Monroe finished with his text, he placed his phone back in his pants pocket, but before he could give Eva his attention again, Lowell walked in, asking for help up front.
For a moment, she thought she'd be caught when Monroe closed the bookshelf, but he didn't seem to notice the three missing bottles.
Eva trailed behind her brother to help, her mind falling back into mundane shop talk. Meanwhile, Lowell fell into a hushed conversation with a familiar Keeper. A woman who'd often stopped by the shop to speak with her parents.
Eva had spoken with her many times, but she'd never suspected the woman's true role as a Keeper. Now, she wondered how much she'd missed.
Monroe occupied the corner of the counter, blending in seamlessly as he flipped through a catalog or scribbled in a journal. To an outsider, he'd appear to be just another customer.
Yet, every so often, Eva would catch him watching her, his gaze lingering before she looked away. At one point, she'd caught him staring, and as she averted her eyes, she met Lowell's smug, knowing smile, which made her stomach turn.
After a few hours, her parents made the decision to let her and Monroe leave early. The shop had been dead for a couple hours and they claimed they didn't have any more appointments, so they'd be able to keep Lowell company up front.
"I'm sure you're probably ready for dinner." Her mother urged Eva, before nodding pointedly at Monroe. She seemed way too eager about her match-making skills. Overconfident, really.
Monroe agreed, claiming he was actually wanting to stop and grab something before they headed back to Eva's apartment.
Again, she side-eyed her family's pushiness and Monroe's complicity.