I say it more as an accusation than a revelation. The winged devil flashes his white teeth in a stunning smile that draws me in as it puts me on guard. “Mmm.” He moves his hand along the hookah as if it’s a violin. “Your voice is a song. Say it again.” He takes a drag of smoke from the pipe. I’m so entranced by seeing him alive and real, I don’t even try to resist. “Morpheus.” “Beautiful. Your mum should’ve known it would take more than a pair of pruning shears to snip me out of your life. Though it appears she managed to cut me from your memories for a bit.” He puffs out circles of smoke. “I’m wounded, Alyssa. It shouldn’t have taken this long for you to find me.” Catching the smoke rings on his finger, he tosses them into the air, where they burst into vaporous stars. Jeb struggles under the net next to me. “This is the joker you’ve been looking for? The one from the website?” he asks. “More than that,” I answer, not even sure the words I’m forming are coherent.
