Quentin cast a silencing bubble, chuckling demonically to himself as he moved to lock the door. He looked to me, wetting his lips as his eyes gleamed with excitement. He was nearly half my height, his back was hunched, his eyes bright red and his teeth sharpened to points, all features he’d altered himself by magic. Because he liked being a scary motherfucker, I guessed. And it worked. The guy creeped the fucking shit out of me, but I’d needed his help and he’d agreed.
