Another quiet evening.

  She had just brewed fresh coffee, and a new book was waiting for her on the table in the living room. She loved moments like these. The silence around her was soothing, though it also reminded Alice how lonely her life had become. The realization no longer hurt as much as it once had. Now she understood something else: being alone meant half the trouble.

  With a cigarette between her lips and satisfaction almost visible on her face, she stepped into the living room.

  “Fuck,” slipped out of her mouth when she saw Not-a-Doctor sitting in the armchair. At the last moment she clenched her lips tighter so the cigarette wouldn’t fall into her coffee.

  “Don’t trouble yourself with making another cup. I just had one,” the man replied with a cold smile. “Besides, it’s nice to see you too.”

  Just like that, the evening no longer felt as pleasant as it had a few minutes earlier.

  Alice set her cup on the table beside the book she now looked at longingly, then reached for the ashtray.

  “What brings you here?” she asked, trying to sound polite, though the words were edged with frost.

  An equally pleasant answer followed.

  “What do you think, darling?”

  Alice said nothing. She simply looked at her guardian.

  Her mind drifted to the moment when her face had been smashed into the wall again and again. When that memory lost its sting, she moved on to the moment her legs were being crushed. The memory of her arms being torn from their sockets no longer stirred anything in her at all.

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  “I assume you’re here to announce more trouble,” she said finally. “And this could have been such a beautiful evening. Quiet. Wonderfully boring. Everything always goes to shit, goddammit.”

  “I’m not announcing trouble. I’m warning you. You get yourself into trouble and then force yourself to be rescued. Let’s call things by their proper names.”

  Oh, how she hated that. Why did he even talk to her if he never said anything plainly? His riddles were impossible to decipher until it was already too late.

  “Don’t strain yourself,” she snapped. “Go on talking about nothing and then get angry that I didn’t extract some hidden warning from a pile of bullshit.”

  She stubbed out her cigarette.

  “Say what you came to say and get the fuck out. If I’m going to end up neck-deep in shit anyway, at least don’t ruin my evening right now.”

  Silence followed.

  For a moment Alice wondered whether she had gone too far. Eventually she decided she didn’t care. After nearly two minutes, which felt like an eternity, Not-a-Doctor finally spoke in a calm, almost indifferent tone.

  “Stop playing humanity’s executioner. You’re attracting far too much attention. If the wrong kind of gaze turns toward you, even I won’t be able to do much. If you’re judged an undesirable element…”

  “But that’s exactly what you wanted,” Alice cut in, her voice dripping with hatred. “For me to attract attention. To stand out. To—”

  “But not to kill two people in a single day.”

  Not-a-Doctor interrupted her sharply. The witch could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

  “Not in one fucking day.”

  His voice remained quiet, but each word struck like ice.

  “Consume demons. Seal rifts. Summon spirits. Cast curses. Cause illnesses. Damage buildings. Contribute to the deaths of hundreds if you must.” He leaned slightly forward. “But do not kill directly with your power. Not yet. Not so openly. Heaven does not tolerate that kind of murder. If they notice, they will judge you.”

  He straightened.

  “That’s all I came to say. Have a pleasant evening, Alice.”

  The man stood. And moment later vanished, as if he had never been there.

  Alice stared at the armchair for a long time, wondering whether the evening could still be saved or whether it would be better to simply go to bed and dream about a world without people. Goddammit, she hated it when he showed up just to scold her like this.