Sans and I crossed the street to the parking garage, and I led the way up the stairs and to my car.
He stared at the vehicle while I pulled my keys from my shoulder bag.
“You have a car?” he asked.
I unlocked the doors with a nod, confused by his confusion. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you use it?” the skeleton asked as he settled into the front passenger seat.
I checked the mirrors and turned the ignition. “You mean to get to my jobs? It’s faster to walk. Well … run. Seatbelt.”
He stared at me blankly until I pointed to my own.
“Seatbelt. Car doesn’t move until everyone’s buckled in.”
The skeleton nodded and pulled the belt across his chest and lap. I pulled up the GPS on my phone and typed in the address for my sister’s café. I knew the way, but it was nice to have directions anyway.
“I used to drive to work,” I explained. “Early on. Between traffic and finding parking, it wasn’t worth it. I can get anywhere in the city on foot or with public transit, as long as I time it right, and my jobs outside the city are usually shuttled. I don’t drive unless I have to.” I pulled out of my space and made my way out of the garage. “Besides, driving uses gas and gas is expensive. And owning a car means I have to have insurance. Which is also expensive. I have one of those pay-by-the-mile car insurances. So not driving saves me money.”
“Then … why are you driving now?”
“Groceries,” I said simply. “I try to buy around two weeks worth at a time It’s a pain trying to lug that back home on foot.” I pulled onto the main street and fixed my eyes on the road. “First, though, we’re going to my sister’s café. It’s called ‘Well Roasted.’ ”
Sans was quiet for a moment, watching the city pass by as I drove. Then he snickered.
I grinned. I hoped he and Abby would get along, and it seemed they were already off to a good start.
I just hoped my sister was at the café today.
Sea Tea and Crabapple Tarts
Well Roasted was a trendy upscale coffee shop just outside of the popular tourist part of the city. As Abby had grown her business she had added a chocolatier and patisserie to the business.
It was well outside my price range, like all coffee shops, but Abby had promised me that as long as she was the owner, I would never have to pay. Which meant as long as Well Roasted existed, since I didn’t see Abby selling the place for all the money in the world.
It was her dream.
It was the only coffee place I went to.
It didn’t hurt that they made the absolute best hot chocolate I had ever had, on top of having excellent coffee.
I held the door open for Sans and scanned the dining room. It was near empty, which made me relax. I had worried that we would be confronting midday crowds.
It was so much nicer to not be surrounded by people.
I glanced up at the menu boards, reacquainting myself with the café’s offerings. I hadn’t been here in months, but aside from seasonal drinks the menu tended to remain fairly static. There were, to my surprise, two new boards.
The first had seven hearts along the bottom, each a different color. “In collaboration with Seven Souls Bakery, Well Roasted is now serving Spider Pastries!”
The other new board had a drawing of a sea turtle drinking a bubble tea and said, “Proudly Serving SEA TEA!”
I smiled as I felt a rush of pride for my big sister.
She had done it.
“Aunt T!” a voice called, breaking me from my reverie.
I looked toward the speaker and my expression brightened into a happy smile.
“Jamie!” I called out in response, giving the teenager a wave.
He looked like he was about to jump over the counter to rush me. As he was hoisting himself up and over one of his coworkers grabbed his arm to redirect him. I waited where I was so he could tackle me in a hug.
I felt Sans tense next to me as my nephew ran at us, but I didn’t have time to ask why.
I hugged the kid back for a moment before pulling away to reach up and ruffle his hair.
“God kiddo, you’re getting big,” I teased with a smile.
James had only been five when Abby had started babysitting him. Shortly afterward he had attached himself to me as his “Aunt T.” The kid and his baby sister were some of the only people who never failed to cheer me up.
“Nah, you’re just shrinking in your old age,” James joked as he led me to the counter. I wasn’t certain he had even noticed the skeleton following us. “What are you doing here?”
“Had to run errands,” I explained. “I’m going over to the Department of Monster Services after this. But I wanted to stop by and see my favorite nephew while I was in the neighborhood.”
“Is there another protest?” James asked, looking concerned.
“No, nothing like that.” I shook my head as my mood fell under the weight of reality. I looked around for a moment before asking, “Is your mom here? I need to talk to her about something.”
“They’re at church,” James said, shaking his head.
I nodded, unhappy but unsurprised. I had hoped to see her, but I hadn’t expected anything different. Sunday was the Sabbath, and the Sabbath meant church.
I may have lost my faith a long time ago, but Abby still had hers.
“Is she gonna be in today at all?” I asked, hoping there was still a chance I could see her.
“Nope,” James said as he shook his head again. Then he brightened. “We have family dinner tonight!”
I nodded, trying to brush off my disappointment. “That’s fine. I’ll schedule something with her.”
James sighed and frowned, making me think I had missed something, but I ignored it and looked at the menu boards. “I’ll get my usual cocoa, and an almond croissant. Also, whatever he wants.”
I jerked my thumb toward the skeleton behind me, catching Sans and James off guard and making them both jump.
They both stared at me, confused for different reasons.
I rolled my eyes.
“James, this is Sans. He’s my … roommate. He’s part of why I need to talk to your mom,” I said before turning back to Sans. “This is my nephew, James. And I’m not going to drag you to a coffee shop and not get you something. Whatever you want, drink and pastry.”
Sans recovered first.
He stared at me, black eyes and lazy posture, hands shoved into his pockets.
“You keep trying to feed me,” he drawled. “Trying to fatten me up?”
I snorted at the accusation. “Obviously. Look at you! You’re all skin and bones … except, you know, sans the skin.”
Sans stared at me for a moment before bursting out in a full-on laugh, his eyelights sparking into existence.
“Fuck yeah!” I said as I pumped a fist to the air and turned back to my nephew. “Add a cookie to my order, James. I need a reward for that one.”
James was still staring at the skeleton, slack jawed and confused. I tapped his hand gently to get his attention. “You okay, kiddo?”
He nodded slowly, then started tapping my order into the tablet in front of him. He turned to Sans with a wide, open smile that started strained but quickly slipped into comfortable.
“What would you like, Sans?”
The skeleton looked taken aback, and I wondered if it was because of James’ attitude or the general idea that I was going to get him something here. I wondered, unhappily, how often the skeleton had been dragged places and not fed, or simply left behind alone. I dug my fingers into my palm to keep my anger in check.
Sans looked up to the menu boards and his eyelights dimmed. I glanced up and remembered just how overwhelming the options were.
I glanced behind us, relieved that we were still the only customers. Then I turned back to James. “He might need a minute. I saw you guys are serving sea tea now!”
James beamed, his bright smile rivaling the sun. He stood up a little straighter, prouder. “Yeah! We got the first shipment in on Wednesday. It’s been selling like crazy.”
I couldn’t help but return his proud smile. “Your mom did a lot of work to get approval, she should be proud of herself. She’s also working with Seven Souls now?”
James nodded, enthusiasm plain on his face. “She got the contract with Seven Souls first, actually. They helped push through the sea tea approval. We’re officially the first non-Rainbow company in or out of Ebbot to sell monster food!”
Sans glanced between us, our conversation distracting him from the overwhelming menu.
I pointed up at the two new boards. “My sister has been trying to get approval from the city council to sell monster food here for years. She started almost immediately after the Barrier fell.”
James nodded and explained, “Mom told me she went to visit the Underground right after the Barrier broke. She was on a class trip or something. They went to … Frozen? Snowing? … I can’t remember the name – ” Sans muttered something I didn’t catch as he turned back to look at the boards. James didn’t hear him at all and kept talking. “ – Anyway, she had what she said was the best cinnamon bun ever. She’s been looking for the monster who sold them ever since. Mom wasn’t able to find her, but she did meet someone who got her in touch with Rainbow. Now we can sell monster food!”
James looked so happy, beaming with pride at how hard his mom worked. Sans looked between my nephew and I for a long second, silent and calculating. When he finally spoke his voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge I had become used to.
“Yeah … yeah. I’ll get a sea tea and a … ” he glanced at the display case. “ … crabapple tart.”
I smiled and moved to pull my wallet out as James typed the order in, only to have my nephew put up a hand to stop me.
“You know the rules, Aunt T,” he said, suddenly every bit a surly teenager.
I rolled my eyes at him. “ ‘Family doesn’t pay,’ ” I quoted at the teenager, sarcasm thick in my voice. I pointed at Sans. “Your mom hasn’t even met him yet. I’m paying for his order, at least.”
James shook his head as he printed out the order and handed it to the barista who had stopped him from leaping across the counter. “Nope. He’s a friend of yours. That means he’s family.”
I glared at him, but the edge was dulled by playfulness. “You wouldn’t do that for any of your uncles, would you?”
James responded with a wide grin. “That’s why I specified a friend of yours, Aunt T! Do you want to choose your pastries?”
I dropped a couple bills into the tip jar before he could stop me and shook my head.
“You’re the professional, I trust you to choose me the best one.” I glanced back at Sans, who I noticed was looking very uncomfortable. “Wanna choose your apple tart?”
He shook his head and I glanced behind him and pointed to an empty corner booth.
“If you wanna go sit over there, I’ll bring our drinks and pastries once they’re ready. You don’t need to wait around on me.”
Sans looked at the table I indicated and shrugged acceptance before meandering over.
“Don’t tell your mom about him, okay?” I asked James as I turned back toward him.
“Why not?” James asked as he plated Sans’ tart. “Is he a secret?”
“No … I just want to explain some things to her about the situation first,” I said.
James frowned, biting at his lip, He slid the two pastry plates across the counter to me. “Aunt T … mom isn’t going to hate you if you have a monster.”
I flinched and was about to argue but James cut me off before I could speak. “She won’t be disappointed or mad or anything. If you got a monster, there must have been a good reason.” He bit his lip again before continuing. “You don’t need to schedule time to see her, either. You should come over to dinner tonight!”
“Jamie – ”
“Mom and dad would love to have you, and Chloe has been missing her favorite auntie,” James insisted, ignoring my interruption. “Come to dinner. Bring Sans!”
It was tempting. It had been a long time since I had been around the good parts of my family. Or since I had eaten food that wasn’t greasy and fried or leftover lasagna.
But … I didn’t feel comfortable either leaving Sans home alone or taking him with me. Both options felt like rubbing what I had in his face.
If I left him home I would get a nice family dinner, and he would be alone with leftovers.
If I brought him along with me he would be surrounded by something that was taken from him. Violently.
I glanced over at the skeleton. He had his head on the table, apparently asleep. I gave a little snort and turned back to my nephew.
“I’ll think about it,” I said. “It’s … complicated.”
James’ shoulders dropped, but he nodded despite his disappointment. I was about to explain myself when his coworker brought over our drinks.
“Angel and Sans?” she asked as she placed them on the counter in front of me. I nodded and she pointed at the mugs. “Hot cocoa with hazelnut milk and extra whipped cream, and a sea tea. Enjoy!”
I thanked her and picked up the mugs, balancing them and the plates of pastries in my arms.
“I promise I’ll think about it,” I told James as I got everything situated. “If nothing else I’ll call your mom tonight, okay?”
He nodded again before going back to work.
I took the food to the table
I glanced at the mug of sea tea as I placed it on the table. I wondered who had decided to draw the turtle drinking bubble tea, when apparently sea tea was standard tea.
The china it was in was different than the usual mugs Well Roasted used. It was white, like all the café’s china, it had a different logo on the side. In the place of the café’s logo there was a purple shield with a symbol I recognized, but couldn’t place.
“Huh, that’s new,” I said as I slid the cup in front of my skeletal companion.
Sans lifted his head to look at what I was talking about. The edges of his smile drooped a little.
“It’s the Delta Rune,” he explained as he sat back up. “It’s … the symbol of monsterkind.”
“Sounds like it’s important,” I said as I sat across from him.
Sans shrugged and took a sip of the drink. “They print it on all monster stuff.”
I blinked and realized that’s where I had seen the symbol before. It was on the packaging of the monster candy I bought. I looked up at the menu boards and saw it there, too, next to all monster food and drink.
“Is that disrespectful?”
Sans gave me a blank stare before shrugging and looking away. “I dunno.”
I winced and reached to pull my book out of my bag. “Stupid question. Forget I asked.”
The skeleton was silent, looking out the window with a faraway stare.
“Hey, listen,” I said as I opened my book. I grinned as I tried to find where I had left off, not looking at Sans. “I’m sorry I’ve bean so awkward. I know I mess up a latte.” I looked up at him, my tone turning serious. “I’m … not really used to … people. Or being social.”
Sans turned to look at me before giving a soft chuckle.
“Fuck yeah,” I said, looking back at my book. Maybe I would get another cookie and share it with the skeleton.
Except James didn’t give me my first cookie.
Well, if I had to go get a cookie anyway, I might as well grab two of them.
“Why do you do that?” Sans asked. I blinked up at him.
“Do … what?” I asked.
“The ‘fuck yeah’ thing,” Sans clarified.
“Oh! That,” I said. I slid my bookmark in between the pages as I thought about how to answer. “Habit. My younger brother hates those kinds of jokes. Puns and wordplay. When I was a kid I started celebrating every time I could make him laugh with them.”
I rubbed a finger across the cover of my book, imagining my brother’s surprised expression when I could get him with a really good pun.
Sans chuckled and I turned to stare at him, completely confused. His eyelights were bright and his features were soft.
“A little brother who hates puns,” he said as he laughed. “I can relate.”
I was about to ask him more about his family, about his brother, when he asked another question.
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Four,” I said holding up my fingers. “Three brothers and a sister. What about you?”
The question was reflexive and I immediately regretted it. Any family he had was either a slave or dead.
I stiffened, feeling like I had stepped directly on a landmine. One wrong move and everything was over.
But … Sans wasn’t angry. He just looked sad. Sad and tired.
“Just one,” he said as he looked away again.
I picked at my croissant, wanting to know more but unsure and unable to ask. I worried about bringing up bad memories. The landmine ticked beneath my feet.
“Five kids, huh?” Sans asked after a moment. “Must have been a big happy family.”
I blinked at him, my train of thought off course for the topic at hand.
“Big … yes.” I said after a moment. I frowned at my croissant. “I wouldn’t say ‘happy,’ though.”
A thick uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and my thoughts churned.
Would I want to talk about family if we were separated?
That … wasn’t really a fair question.
I didn’t want to talk about my family now. We were separated, distance kept by a mutual understanding that we just ‘weren’t that kind of family.’ I didn’t even know the last time I had spoken to either of my older brothers.
I wondered if Josh and Alycia had more kids. Last I’d heard they just had their fourth, but I only learned about her existence when she was around six months old.
“What’s he like?” I asked finally, trying to distract myself from my own thoughts. I held up my hands as the skeleton turned his eye sockets on me. “If you want to talk, I mean. I’d like to know, but you don’t have to tell me.”
Sans stared at me for a moment and then his expression changed. Gone was the cold, distant calculating glare. In its place was a wide smile and bright, warm pride.
“He’s the best,” he said simply.
The warmth and love in the skeleton’s voice took me off balance.
That’s how family is supposed to feel about each other.
I wanted to respond, but my voice caught in my throat.
Memories rose, unbidden and unwanted, from the depths of my mind. A broken family, twisted into a macabre imitation of what it could have been. What it should have been.
Something tightened in my chest as I pushed away my darker thoughts and went back to my croissant and book.
I was not going to be envious of Sans.
“How’s the tea?” I asked after I had calmed down enough.
Sans jumped at the question and I realized he had been people watching. Or daydreaming. Or … possibly simply dreaming? I wouldn’t put it past the skeleton to be able to sleep with his eyes open, given how many other ways I had seen him nap in the last week.
The skeleton stared at his drink for a moment, before taking another sip.
“It’s really good,” he said, voice soft and emotional.
There was a wistful, nostalgic hitch to his voice that I recognized. It was the same as when I would visit Abby and we would drink hot cocoa and talk. The feeling of hugs from James or Chloe.
It tastes like home.
Ebbot City’s Department of Monster Services
After we left the café, the skeleton became gloomy again. The lights vanished from his eye sockets and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
He followed me as I led the way to the government building, guided by my phone.
It was easy enough to find the building, but I was grateful to have the GPS anyway.
We approached the plain, three story office building that blended into the city around it. A plaque above the double doors labeled the building as The Department of Monster Services.
Human-monster pairs milled about outside. I frowned at some of the humans who held leashes attached tot he collars of their monster.
What did they think was going to happen? The monster was going to run away?
Wasn’t that what the stupid kill switch was for?
I grumbled under my breath as I entered the building and looked for a directory.
I wanted to talk to whoever dealt with the collars, calibrate Sans’ to my soul, and get out.
Inside the building was bright but dingy, with aging decor that had been out of date long before the monsters had come to the surface. Hand-me-downs and leftovers from other government offices, I assumed.
Near the back of the foyer was a help desk with what looked like a directory. Perfect.
I strode across the room to the desk, eager to get on my way.
The woman behind the desk looked bored and annoyed. She didn’t look up as we approached.
“Welcome to the Ebbot City Department of Monster Services. How may I help you today?” she asked, voice monotone and disinterested.
I glanced at the desk in front of her and saw she was working on a crossword puzzle. With a shrug I turned my attention to the map, trying to find the right department.
“I’m just looking for … ” I mumbled and let my voice drift off without actually saying anything to her.
She was as interested in helping me as I was in talking to her. She made some noncommittal noise and wrote something on the puzzle margins before erasing it with an irritated groan.
“Ugh. ‘7 letter word for ‘funny bone’?’ What does that even mean?” she mumbled to herself.
I stopped my search and thought about it for a moment,.
I was counting letters on my fingers when Sans said, “Humerus.”
The lady looked up, confused, so he spelled it for her. “H-U-M-E-R-U-S.”
She wrote down his suggestion, her face breaking into a smile as it fit. “Thank you! I’ve been struggling with that one for an hour.”
“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about bones,” Sans said in an easy tone.
I noticed that his voice lacked the humorous lilt it had when he joked around at Solar’s.
The lady chuckled and pushed her puzzle tot he side.
“So, what department are you looking for?” she asked, smiling and friendly now.
I glanced at Sans, perplexed. How did he get her to drop her guard and turn on a genuine smile? Whenever I tried to do that I just made people uncomfortable.
I pushed the thought aside and pulled my phone from my jacket pocket. I held it up to the woman, browser open to the website that had brought me here. “It said I needed to do something with the HPD?”
“Ah! Yes, of course. You’ll want the Human Protection Device department. Second floor, first door on the right from the stairs. There’s the stairs you passed when you came in, or there’s an elevator bank just down this hallway. Do you need anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” I said as I glanced at the map, making sure I knew where I was going.
“Great! They’ll get you all set up,” she said. As I turned to leave she quickly added. “I believe Adam and Sadie are working today. Talk to Adam – he’s young, but respectful. And he knows his stuff. Have a nice day!”
She waved at both Sans and myself and I led us to the stairs.
The door was frosted glass with “Human Protection Device Department emblazoned across it in all capital letters. Some of the stickers were peeling, and they weren’t lined up properly.
Inside was an intake room, with chairs off to the side and a large front desk. I could see a line of closed office doors leading down a hallway behind the desk. Everything was bright, lit by florescent tubes that made me wince. The slight flickering always made my head ache.
At the front desk were a young man and woman. The young man was looking at his computer monitor, eyes glassy and completely bored. The young woman was reading a book.
I walked up to the desk and cleared my throat to get their attention, since opening and closing the door hadn’t. The woman glanced at me before nudging her partner with her elbow.
“Your turn,” she said.
He jumped, pulling earbuds out as he hit a few keys on his keyboard. I saw the screen blink as whatever he had been doing was replaced with more “productive” work.
“Hello! Welcome!” he said, voice too loud and obviously startled. “I’m Adam. Russell. Adam Russel, is my name.”
He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. I wondered if he wasn’t used to working with the public. The woman gave a quiet laugh and turned a page.
“How can I help you?”
I held up my phone, still on the webpage from before. “I need to do this?”
Adam glanced at the page and nodded. “Soul calibration? That’s easy, Come back to my office and I’ll show you how to do it.”
He stepped away from the front desk and led us back to the offices. He opened the door to one that had the names Adam Russell and Skylar Jenkins next to it, written haphazard on computer paper.
I waved Sans through first and followed him in as the young man spoke.
“Have you ever had a finger stick before? To do a blood typing test? Or maybe to check your blood glucose?”
I thought for a moment before shaking my head. “Probably? But I don’t remember it at all.”
He nodded as he closed the door behind him, beckoning for me to sit on one of the two computer chairs as he pulled out the other.
There wasn’t a chair for Sans.
I ignored the proffered seat, waving the skeleton toward it instead.
Adam shrugged and offered me his seat instead.
Musical chairs decided, I sat and Sans followed suit, leaning back and seemingly at ease. I could see his grip on his jacket. He wasn’t comfortable here.
I really wasn’t either.
Adam turned away from us and started pulling things out of the drawer of his desk, laying them on the tabletop as he spoke.
“That’s not unusual. Blood typing tests are done on kids, usually before they can really remember them. And if your not diabetic, there’s not many reasons to track your glucose.” He turned back to me with a gentle smile. “It’s a simple procedure. You take a lancet and put it in a device that’s made for this.”
He was demonstrating as he spoke, his hands moving with the efficiency of practice.
He screwed the top onto the lancing device and showed me the assembled tool. “When I – or you – push this button, it jabs the lancet into your finger to draw a small amount of blood.”
He pushed the button and the device made a clicking sound, which I assumed was the lancet shooting forward as the spring released. He reset the device as he continued. “It’s … fifty-fifty if it’ll hurt or not, but it should only be a pinch. Better than getting a shot! The numbers here indicate the depth of the lancet. I usually keep it around 1.”
I looked at my fingers, calloused and rough. “I’ll … probably need it to go deeper than you think.”
He nodded and turned it so the number read 3 instead.
“The highest is 5, but I’ve only needed to go that far once or twice,” he explained. He then looked at Sans’ collar, not really seeing the skeleton wearing it.
“Do you know when the collar was last calibrated?”
The question was for me, even though he wasn’t looking in my direction at all.
“No. He came into my … company unexpectedly,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I haven’t had time to go through all of his information.”
Adam looked at Sans’ face. “Do you know when it was last calibrated?”
The skeleton thought about it for a moment, somehow screwing his eyes up like he was really thinking, before shrugging. “Longer than six months, shorter than a year,” he said in a lazy drawl. “I’ve lost track.”
Adam turned to his computer and pulled something up. “What’s the serial?”
“UDSKST001S,” Sans said before I could even process the question. His voice was monotone, void of emotion. I couldn’t tell if it was a collar-forced response or just an unhappy reminder.
The young man typed the series of numbers and letters in quickly before pulling up a page similar to the one I had used to register Sans. He skimmed the page before nodding.
“Looks like it was around seven months ago,” he said as he turned to me. “It’s useful to know. The more recent a calibration, the more likely it will interfere with the new one. Six months is usually safe, but it might be worth it to wipe the data of the previous calibration.”
“What does that entail?” I asked.
Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a hard reboot of the collar. Your monster would be sedated while the – ”
“No.” I said, cutting him off and surprising all three of us with my tone. I shook my head. “I’m not sedating Sans for something like this. Not unless I have no other choice. How much of a problem will it be without the wipe?”
“Since it’s been longer than six months it really shouldn’t be a problem. The magic tends to weaken within that amount of time. A new calibration should overwrite the old one,” Adam said with a shrug.
I glanced at Sans, “And if it doesn’t?”
The young man sighed. “It’s possible that without a full reboot the previous human the collar attuned to will be able to override your commands. Aside from that there’s not much risk.”
I nodded and considered. It seemed like an acceptable risk to me. If whoever had last done this was seven months in the past, I was fairly certain they were no longer an issue. Especially given the stack of paperwork in my bag.
“Alright then, what do I need to do?”
“You’ll need to prick your finger, and put a drop of blood into the inlet on the HPD.” Adam turned toward Sans, his eyes focused on the collar again. He motioned to the device. “Do you mind if I … ?”
I looked to Sans, since it was his personal space Adam would be invading. The skeleton shrugged. “Do what you need to, pal.”
Adam nodded and reached for the thickest part of the collar, where the lights and electronics of the device were. He pulled off a rubber protective cover, revealing a pinhole.
“This is the inlet. You put a drop of blood here and the light will blink red as it processes. If everything goes okay the green light will come on for about thirty seconds. That means the collar is calibrated.”
Adam let go of the collar and waved at the objects on the desk.
“I can talk you through the process if you want,” he offered. I nodded and we began.
I cleaned my finger with an alcohol wipe, then put the lancing device against my skin. I took a deep breath and pushed the button, flinching at the click as the spring released.
There was a brief spark of pain, but it was less than I expected. I moved the lancing device away to see a droplet of blood growing from the tiny wound.
“Perfect,” Adam said. “Now all you need to do is put that against the inlet on the HPD.”
I put my bleeding finger against the pinhole Adam had exposed and watched the lights of the collar blink. Only when the light turned solid green did I pull my hand away. I covered the pinhole back up as I moved.
“And that’s it!” Adam said with a warm smile. “You’ll want to do this every four to six months, as long as you have the monster. I can give you some one-time-use lancets as well. They’re not as nice as this one, but they’ll work. Do you have any questions for me?”
I frowned, since I had a thousand questions but I didn’t know if Adam would be able to answer any of them. I didn’t know which were the most important.
He pulled me from my thoughts with a quick noise.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” He turned back to his computer and turned the monitor fully toward me. “It takes up to a day for the database to update, but you can check the status of the calibration here. It’s really important to keep up to date. If you don’t, the monster can be repossessed. You might have to pay fines to get him back.”
I nodded since that lined up with what I read earlier.
Adam began to clean up, ejecting the used lancet into a sharps bin. I considered the questions I had about the collar and this calibration.
“What exactly does this calibration do?”
“The result is that the monster’s magic will resonate with your SOUL,” Adam explained He frowned apologetically at me. “I don’t honestly know how it works, but it means your commands get a higher priority than, say, mine.”
“So … “
“So say I were to tell … Sans, you said his name was?” I nodded and Adam continued. “Say I were to order Sans, ‘Do a thousand jumping jacks.’ If you had told your monster to not do any extraneous activity, the command would be ignored. Or if you came over and told him to stop, that would override my order. If the calibration wasn’t in place, the priority of commands would be determined through other means.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Intent,” Adam said as he pulled something out of the file cabinet in the corner and I rolled my eyes in frustration. “You might think of that as will. Whichever person has a stronger will would win. Does that make sense?”
“I think so?” I said. It was still too fuzzy for my liking, but I thought I understood what he meant. I would need to keep the collar attuned properly. That way none of this conversation would matter, since my will would override anyone else.
I tried to sort through my thoughts again, attempting to figure out what else I wanted to ask. I couldn’t think of anything else. My mind was suddenly completely blank.
I frowned as I realized there was visual snow creeping into the corners of my vision.
I needed to leave before the flickering lights made this any worse.
“I think that’s everything for now,” I said.
Adam nodded and handed me a plastic bag, like what I used to get at the dentist when I was a kid.
“Here’s some single use lancets and my card. If you have any more questions about the HPD, feel free to call or email,” he said. I took the ‘goodie bag’ from him and glanced inside, seeing exactly what he said was in there.
I slid it into my messenger bag with a nod.
“Thanks, Adam,” I said, trying to disguise my growing uneasiness.
He led Sans and I back to the entryway and wished us well as we left.
I forced myself to walk, not run, from the building.
Tiny Raven 
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