Anti's POV:
I watched Atticus scour the racks excitedly, piling his arms high with clothes until he could barely walk. It was amazing how he could be so excited about such a simple thing. Then again, with the sort of life he'd had...
I watched him finally make his way to the dressing room, wobbling unsteadily. Grinning, I lifted a finger towards him, sending a thin, nearly invisible line of shadows towards him. He tripped spectacularly as they wrapped around his feet, sending him to the floor with a squawk. I beat it around the corner before he saw me, slipping into the hot topic. I was pleasantly surprised; this was more my style!
I examined a gnarly looking skull ring, turning it over in my hand as I thought about the past week.
Something was different. I didn't know what, but something had changed. Namely with me. If I had to describe it, I'd say I felt a little less... murdery.
I wasn't craving fear anymore. Or blood. My last meal had been a week ago, and even that had been mechanical. The high, the rush that came from the kill... it was just gone. I. Felt. Nothing.
I hadn't even killed the owner of the apartment a couple hours ago. I wanted to want to, I really did. But I didn't. Jesus, is this what depression felt like? Did Demons even get depressed? Fuck.
I dropped the ring that was now an unidentifiable lump of mangled metal. I stared down at it for a moment, hands in my pockets as I pondered my current state. Honestly, I had to ask... did I really give a fuck?
Not really, I realized. Not that I had ever given a fuck about anything in my entire life. That's part of what made me famous.
So was this a bad thing? That remained to be seen. The only thing I knew for certain was that Atticus was the cause. I had to find out what he was. Soon.
I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Antioch? I think I'm done."
I turned to see my little charge looking up at me. He gestured back to the store.
"They bagged up all the clothes and I told them I'd go get my babysitter to pay for it," he said with a twitch of his lips. I cocked my eyebrow at him.
"Baby sitter? Fucking really?" I snapped. He shrugged.
"Isn't that what you are?" He snarked.
"Yeah, whatever you little smartass," I scoffed. There it was again; a week ago I probably would have bitch slapped the brat into next tuesday.
"So... how are we going to pay- err, take- the clothes?" He asked. I smirked.
"Ready to see some magic, smartass?" I asked. He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.
"You... aren't gonna kill them are you?" He asked slowly. I rolled my eyes.
"As much as I want to (damn I wished that wasn't a fucking lie), no. I'm not. Come on," I said, jerking my head towards the store. I shot a grin at him over my shoulder.
"Watch this."
I snapped my fingers.
Thirty minutes later...
"That. Was. Brilliant!!" Atticus exclaimed as I uncloaked us in the alley way beside the apartment, "Did you see the looks on their faces?! Can you teach me how to turn invisible?" He asked excitedly. I shrugged.
"If it's within your skill set, sure. We don't know exactly what you are yet though, much less what you can do."
"Oh," he said, disappointed. I ruffled his hair roughly before shoving his head to the side as I kept walking, ignoring his indignant exclaimation. He grumbled quietly alongside me as we went.
Maybe this wasn't a bad thing.
I certainly enjoyed his company more than Fell's, anyway.
