The genuine fear in his voice gave me a surge of relief. Despite what was happening to him, he still cared and worried. “It took a lot out of Temple, but we’re okay. The damage could have been worse. We lost some inventory, but the shop is mostly intact.”
Insurance would cover the ruined stock, but every day we were closed for repairs was another day of lost sales. Alex’s scheme was getting costly. I pushed that thought aside.
“You think my drawings interfered with Uncle Temple’s magic.” There was a long pause. “Why would Mr. Barclay want to weaken your shop?”
“Sage said there was going to be a sacrifice.”
“What kind of sacrifice?”
“Hurting the house hurts Temple,” I said. “With his spells failing, it would be easier for Alex to get to us. As sacrifices go, a century-old wizard, a Hunter of Artemis, or a half-demon are what you’d call high-value treats. Jenny thinks he’ll come for either me or Uncle Temple.”
“I don’t believe you.” The quaver in his voice gave him away.
“I think you do, Morgan.”
He didn’t answer.
As gently and firmly as I could, I said, “I need you to open the door now.”
After a long pause, the lock popped and the knob turned. The door cracked inward. I pushed it wider. Ronnie started to follow.
“Wait here.” I stepped inside.
The lights were off. Morgan’s head was bowed, and he’d tugged a blanket over his head and shoulders. But the makeshift hood didn’t completely hide his face.
“Well, that’s not great, is it?” I asked. I was picking up Jenny’s habits, using ironic understatement to hide my anguish.
Morgan’s skin was like grease, black and smooth and glistening. His hands were the same. Here and there, the skin swelled like blisters.
I pushed his blanket back. He still had his hair, though it was as slick as anything Travolta had sported in the seventies. His eyes were bloodshot but human. His clothes were damp. I touched the back of my hand to his forehead. The skin was cool and slightly tacky.
He flinched and tried to pull away.
“Have you taken any more of those pills since last night?”
He huffed indignantly. “Of course not.”
Which meant his transformation was accelerating on its own, without the need for more shoggoth goo. “What other changes have you noticed?”
He poked one of the blisters on the back of his hand. “These are growing into eyeballs. They’ve been swelling up all morning. Four more have opened.” He turned his face away. “Do you think Aunt Jenny and Uncle Temple can fix me?”
“I’m sure.” I lied so convincingly, I almost believed it.
He grimaced, showing teeth that were disturbingly white against the black of his lips and mouth. “It’s getting harder to think straight. Like I’m dreaming and none of this is real. All night, I couldn’t tell if I was asleep or awake. I’d sit in my bed, trying to remember where I was. I kept getting up to leave, but I didn’t know where I was going.”
I took his hand and squeezed.
He made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. “I fucked up, Grandma. I’m scared. What if I can’t come back from this? What if I’m like this forever?”
“Let us help you, Morgan.”
“Whatever I’m becoming, promise me you won’t let me hurt anyone.”
Until that moment, I’d managed to hold back the tears, but the naked fear in his words broke me. Silent sobs shook my body. I fought to keep them in, to keep Blake and Ava from hearing. They needed me to be strong. They needed hope and reassurance.
“Tell me where to find Alex,” I whispered.
“I can’t tell you.” He turned away and pulled his hand from mine.
