Free Summoned Chaos by Joshua Roots Page A

paranormals in the treaty with the Normals, most of the creatures didn’t seem interested in integrating with the modern world. The modern world seemed just as reluctant to fully accept them as well.
    It was a wonder there weren’t more attacks, really.
    Steve, however, was doing his best to survive among us humans. People still stopped and stared when he walked by. Other times, they ran screaming. Apparently it was one thing to watch a TV show about humanity struggling to fend off the dead and quite another to see a Minotaur buying apples at a grocery store.
    Which was a shame, really. Underneath his gruff, blocky exterior was a gruff, blocky interior. But underneath that was a nice guy who loved kittens and collected original Frank Sinatra records.
    I’d first met Steve a few months earlier while following the trail of Quinn’s father through the Underground. A series of secretive, mystical alleyways, the Underground had existed for centuries as a hiding place for paranormals during times of major persecution. Over the eons, however, it evolved into a bustling hive of commerce and trade used by everyone except Normals. Despite its growth, however, the Underground was still a sleazy enough place where someone like an innocent Necromancer could hide from a wrongful death sentence by the Council.
    As luck would have it, my search for clues about Simeon’s whereabouts, and his innocence, led me to the bar where Steve worked and lived.
    As unluck would have it, I accidentally burned the place to the ground.
    Saving his life that day was the only reason he didn’t kill me.
    “So, what happened at HQ?” he asked.
    “My official comment is no comment,” I said robotically.
    Steve raised his eyebrows.
    “Hey, just practicing for the cameras, man.” I then proceeded to give him a complete rundown of the battle.
    “Mimics? That’s weird.” He wiped his sweaty brow. “So is that why you’re out of sorts this morning? Because you had to kill a bunch of furry cockroaches last night? Or do you have a Skilled hangover?”
    “A little of both,” I admitted, trying to stamp down the bloody images that sprang to mind. “It’s frustrating.”
    Steve folded his arms. “Nine times out of ten, I can’t walk down the street without some human calling the cops. I’m best friends with the concept of ‘frustrating.’ And what I’ve learned is that you can either whine about it or do you can deal with it. Either way, you, Mr. Combat Warlock, can’t afford to get sloppy because you had a bad night.”
    I felt my ears turn pink. “I know.”
    “Speaking of dealing with things, what’s going on with you and Quinn?”
    Steve and I had gone around the bend about my relationship with little progress on either side. He constantly harped that after seven months, a person knew if they wanted someone or not. But Steve didn’t get how complicated human relationships could be.
    Quinn and I were doing fine. I didn’t want to disrupt that. If she didn’t want to tell me why she took off for a week or two at a time, then I wasn’t going to bug her about it.
    “Same old same old,” I said, hoping to avoid further conversation.
    Steve huffed. “Relationships either grow or die, dude. The key is how much and how well you all communicate. You and Quinn need to have the You’re-My-Shmoopsie-Bosom-So-Let’s-Have-Liquid-Hot-Monkey-Sex-Only-With-Each-Other talk or you need to move on. It’s that simple.”
    “Liquid-Hot-Monkey-Sex?”
    “Whatever you humans call it.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. “Have you even been in a relationship before?”
    Steve folded his arms and gave me a smug look. “I am the God of Relationships.”
    “I knew you were a romantic at heart.”
    Steve’s nostrils flared. “Want me to kick your ass again?”
    I chuckled, thankful to shift from the awkward topic of my relationship with Quinn to something superficial. “No, once is enough.”
    “Good.” There was a beeping noise and he pulled an