Mal snorted. Instead of responding, he stepped out into open air, allowing a hint of his essence to coat his feet so he wouldn’t fall. He descended into the hole, walking down like he was on a spiral staircase until he reached the bottom. When the soles of his shoes touched the water, it flowed away, leaving his feet dry with a shallow indentation in the water under them.
He crouched down and reached into the water, quick as a flash, and snatched out a startled water sprite. It was a small, blue creature with the tail of a fish and the body of something vaguely humanoid. It quivered, and its scaled face held eyes wide with terror.
Mal held it close to his face and hissed, “Nothing happens to the redhead. You and your people will protect him with your lives. Got it?”
The fear rolling off the tiny sprite was delicious, and Mal helped himself to a small taste. Not enough to irrevocably harmthe creature, but enough to sear the moment into its mind for the rest of its life.
The sprite squeaked and writhed until Mal stopped feeding. He allowed it a moment to pant softly and collect itself before repeating, “Got it?”
Mal didn’t understand the noises the sprite made in response, but he could sense the creature’s agreement. The sprites had been keeping Clayton’s boat afloat, but they’d probably only been doing it on a whim. Now they’d be doing it in order to stay alive.
Fear was an excellent motivator.
“What are you doing down there?” Clayton called from above.
Mal glared down at the creature with his empty, soulless gaze, making sure to drive the point home before placing his hand next to the water and allowing the little creature to slip back into the water and the illusion of safety.
It knew Mal could get it any time he wanted to, which meant Mal could rest assured that Clayton would never come to harm while on his boat.
Now all Mal had to do was terrorize the rest of Boston, and he’d be set.
Chapter
Sixteen
MAL
Clayton’s face was a mixture of curiosity and irritation once Mal reached him.
Instead of fully exiting the hole, Mal leaned to one side, draping a lazy arm over thin air and propping his chin in one hand, using essence to hold himself up.
Why? Because it was comfortable, that’s why. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he knew it would make Clayton flustered.
Clayton was so pretty when he was flustered. His cheeks turned a beautiful shade of red, and it made the freckles on the bridge of his nose stand out. It also added an extrasomethingto the green and gold chaos essence swirling around him. If essence could sparkle, that’s what getting flustered did for Clayton’s.
“How did this hole get here in the first place?” Mal asked before Clayton could say one of the dozen snappy comments Mal could practically see forming on his tongue.
He watched as Clayton visibly deflated, took a breath to reboot, then reoriented himself for the conversation. It was precious. Could a nightmare find something precious? Apparently so.
Mal was learning a lot about himself recently, and he was here for it.
“Okay, first of all, I need you not to judge me,” Clayton started, and Mal leaned backward, forming his essence into an invisible chair because he knew the story was going to be amazing.
Everything Clayton got involved with was fascinating. Not that Mal had looked into him or anything. It just paid to keep an eye on global politics, so if he’d happened to hear stories about a certain redhead, he could hardly be blamed.
Mal was still brimming with the energy he had gotten from feeding off of Clayton, which meant he had no need to conserve essence at the moment, so he sent his invisible seating arrangement a nudge to make it permanent.
It allowed him to take his mind off of it and focus fully on Clayton. Most magic users would consider such a thing wasteful, but now that he was fully powered, Mal could drag the entire boat up out of the water, hide it from casual onlookers, take it for a spin around the city, and still have plenty of essence to spare.
Mal created a permanent invisible footstool, propped both feet up on it, and motioned for Clayton to continue, saying, “This is a judgment-free zone.”
Clayton rolled his eyes in anI don't care what you do to show off, I’m not asking you what you arekind of way, and it made Mal want to bite him. Again.
Mal’s eyes lingered on the thigh still bearing his last bite, and Clayton wrapped his robe around himself tightly before continuing. “A few years ago, my foster grandfather died andleft me a boat. My foster sister, his real granddaughter, was quite put out by this and took the boat for a joy ride. Since she's not my biggest fan, she didn't bring it back in the best condition.” Clayton tried to gloss over how he felt about his foster sister, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Mal.
“Serena thought it would be funny to see my face when I saw the boat submerged next to the dock. She even brought all her friends to watch me when I made the discovery. They always enjoyed the chance to come and poke fun.” Clayton looked away, blinking rapidly.
Serena. Mal would remember that name.
