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pleased they had found something that could accommodate Mack now he was back being himself, itself, again.
    I was still annoyed with Zeno from earlier, but knew I was as much to blame as him. We both understood what was happening, he just acted, trying to do something about it. But it was a bad idea and my life was full enough of trouble already. Zeno kept looking at me, silently asking if everything was okay, so I mouthed a quiet, "I'm sorry." He nodded, understanding.
    The attraction went beyond thinking of each other as hot, it was deeper, much deeper. I can't tell you for sure how he felt, but for me it was like you've searched your whole life for your soulmate, that one person who will understand you, protect you, hold you in the night as you weep onto their chest, stroke your head and tell you everything will be okay in the morning even though you both know it won't be.
    And it turns out to be a person of a different species that you know will never work out even though you pray with all your heart it will. It wasn't natural, though, not true emotion. It was the strange mix of our chemistry, not true, genuine feelings, and that made it all the worse.
    Or maybe it's just me and he liked the look of my bum.
    "Can we stay? Let's shack up in this joint and call each other Monica. Or, ooh, ooh, you can be Willis, Zeno, and I can turn to you and say, 'What you talkin' 'bout Willis?' It will be such fun," boomed Mack, like he had to ask permission for anything. He could have lived in Buckingham Palace if he wanted to, I'm sure nothing could stop him. It's a stroke of luck demons are nice folk, otherwise we really would be well and truly screwed. The references to old TV shows were getting right on my nerves, though.
    I stared around at the large space, the empty pews and the scattered bibles, the cross on the wall and the small door at the far end which I guessed led through to... Okay, I had no idea. Did the vicar live in the church? Was it a bible storage room, or what?
    Trying to think back to what the place had been like before, I was sure it used to be for services and for local events—toddler classes, flower arranging, all that sort of thing. Maybe there was a kitchen and a fridge.
    "Let's check it out first, okay?"
    "Spiffing," said Mack, heading for the door.
    "Whoa there, big guy. You stay here. We don't want any more broken walls today, do we?"
    "Oops, forgot."
    Zeno led the way, and we went to see what was what.
    He closed the door behind us, and wasting no time said, "I'm sorry." He looked so down, emotions raw, opening up to me which I knew was hard, next to impossible for his kind. They are usually about as emotional as a sloth on benzies.
    "Me too. Zeno, you know we can't. If it's hard now what do you think it will be like after? You could be gone at any moment and I'm not about to risk getting involved when all I'll be left with is hurt."
    "I understand, and I feel the same."
    If he did then why was he licking his lips with his wet, pink tongue and "accidentally" brushing back his hair to reveal those ears, then waggling his eyebrows—god, those eyebrows. And then why was he rubbing his thigh, making me look there? Damn sneaky bugger.
    "Come on, let's take a look." I tore my eyes from prominent bulges and tried to ignore the feeling in my belly—it wasn't because I was hungry.
    Turns out the place was perfect. There was a small series of anterooms that could be for storage, a well-stocked kitchen with a fridge that would be fine after a clear out. The water worked, maybe an oversight or maybe nobody wanted to cut off the church, or maybe the bill had been paid, and there was no sign of anything having been used in months, probably since the Rift.
    There was a compact living room, a cramped bathroom, and even a small bedroom. It sealed the deal.
    "I'll sleep out in the main church, with Mack," offered Zeno.
    "You sure?"
    "Um, if you're offering?" He nodded at the cot in the nice, but simply furnished