What had they become? Maybe they should’ve stayed in Hell.
“I was hoping you’d do some more work with Tiny,” Caro said as they pulled up to the shelter. “He’s too sensitive for the kennel, but I can’t put him into foster care when he’s so out of control.”
They both climbed out of the van, tossing their empty cups in the recycling bin on their way inside. The sign out front read ‘Ange Gardien: Refuge pour Animaux.’ The building was an unassuming gray with an accessibility ramp to the front door and a notice board with pictures of pets for adoption and posters for fundraiser events. They headed inside, little bells jingling overhead.
“Chloé, this is Raum,” Caro said to the girl at the front desk whose head was down as she scribbled on some paperwork. “He’s going to be working with the dogs.”
Chloé looked up, and her eyes widened. Raum nodded in greeting, and her mouth dropped open.
“Come on,” Caro said, “I’ll give you a tour.”
Leaving the frozen secretary behind, he followed Caro through a door at the back of the room into a short hallway. She pointed down to the end. “The cats are through the first door on the right, birds and other animals through the second. My office is at the end. We’re a small shelter, but we take as many as we can.”
She pushed open the door to the dog kennels in front of them, and Raum winced as barking assailed his ears, already more sensitive than a human’s. Looking back at him and seeing his expression, she laughed.
“You’ll get used to that,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you around, and then we can take Tiny outside.”
They passed rows of caged barking dogs, Caro pointing out the little signs on each stating the dog’s name, how old it was, and what kind of temperament it had. As they went, Raum tapped into that strange ability he had. It was an instinctual sense. He knew what the dogs were feeling, and he was able to reassure them if they were scared.
To this day he had no idea why or how.
Four and a half centuries ago—the day he’d met Meph in fact—Raum had awoken to discover the last three hundred years of his memory wiped clean from his mind. All that remained was a vague understanding that an angel had done it as punishment for a terrible crime…
A crime he now had no memory of committing.
That same day, he’d also discovered a new ability to communicate with animals. And because of the memory loss, he didn’t know when or how he’d gotten it.
The demon he’d been before those lost years was completely different to the demon he was now. He’d been a typical creature of Hell—violent, greedy, obsessed with stealing (that habit wasn’t new), with no impulse control or desire to change. But he’d woken up after losing his memories hating everything about who he’d been.
A dark despondency had plagued him for years afterward. It was the start of the numbness that still plagued him to this day. Only Meph’s presence in his life, and later Ash and Bel’s, had provided the distraction he needed to get through it.
That and his strange affinity for animals.
Now, as he passed each dog, he reached out to them and let them know they were safe. One by one, they fell silent and relaxed. Their calm affected the others, and by the time they’d made it to the end of the second row, the entire room was silent.
Caro slowly turned, staring at him with wide eyes. “How did— Did you do that?” She was giving him thatAre you Jesus?look again.
He shrugged, hoping to brush it off.
The paranormal world was disguised from unsuspecting humanity by a natural glamor that fell over things that weren’t within the scope of their accepted reality. But some humans were born with the Sight—the ability to see through the glamor—and with repeated exposure any human could train to develop it.
Showing off supernatural abilities to random people was one of the stupidest things Raum could do. If he was smart, he’d disappear now and never come back.
But he’d already proven he wasn’t smart, and he figured that as long as Caro didn’t try to start a social media page for Dog Jesus or something, he’d stick around.
She coughed and shook her head. “Let’s continue then.”
He followed her to the last row of kennels. The cage on the end contained a familiar brown dog, who lay on the ground with his head between his paws. When he saw Raum, his tail started to thump.
“Unbelievable,” Caro murmured, glancing at Raum. She unlocked the cage and pulled a leash from her pocket. “Let’s take him outside, and I’ll show you the dog run out back. I’ll get you your own keys tomorrow so you won’t need me.”
Tiny leapt up, tail wagging, as Caro opened the cage. He was so big that his front paws reached her shoulders, and he nearly knocked her over.
“Down,” Raum said.
Tiny immediately jumped down and stood obediently while Caro clipped the leash on him. She looked at Raum like she was slightly afraid of him now, but she made no comment. They went out through the exit in the back corner. The outside had several small enclosures with high fences and muddy grass.
“It’s not much,” Caro said, “but it’s all the space we have. We already get complaints from the neighbors for the barking. Most dogs get walked by volunteers, but the untrained ones like Tiny have to spend a lot of time in their kennels.”
