Mal stopped paying attention as they walked away because he was distracted by the trail of order following Holly in her wake. The battered, faded carpet was becoming brightly colored and hole-free before Mal’s eyes, but only in the area Holly had walked through.
Why was everything around Clayton so chaotic?
Oh right. Chaos magic. Clayton was never going to come close to having a normal life.
That was probably a good thing. If Mal was going to be with someone for an eternity, he wanted them, at the very least, to be interesting.
Mal felt Grampy enter the room, and he gave a grumble of grudging satisfaction. At least Mal hadn’t lostallability to sense his surroundings.
Grampy went on his toes to clap Mal on the shoulder. “Now I see why it took you so long to return, my boy. You had your own family to bring back to us.”
Mal raised an eyebrow at the old man. “I have no family, and even if I did, I have no reason to bring them here.”
Grampy patted him a second time before letting his heels touch the floor again. “Sure, sure.”
Mal’s eyes drifted in the direction Clayton had disappeared, and he had to stop himself from following after him again.
He cleared his throat and asked nonchalantly, “When do you think Clayton will be back?”
A broad smile split Grampy’s face. “Soon enough, my boy. Until then, how about I make you something to eat? I’ve got a new recipe I’ve been working on that involves pairing chocolate, lemon, and seaweed, but so far, no one has been willing to give me feedback. What do you say?”
Mal’s eyes flicked toward the direction Clayton had gone, and then back to Grampy, face glowing with the joy of having someone to share his dark cuisine with.
Mal sighed and braced himself. Food was food, right? Even if it tasted horrible, if Mal could ingest Grampy’s food, it was worth getting used to so he could carry it with him for emergencies. Today had been far too close for his liking.
“Sure, why the hell not?”
The wrinkles lining Grampy’s face nearly swallowed his eyes from the smile he gave Mal. “Wonderful! Let’s get started.”
Chapter
Seventeen
CLAYTON
It didn’t matter how many times Clayton stared at the mark on his leg; it didn’t go away. It sat planted in the middle of his inner thigh, surrounded by freckles, freckles, and even more freckles, but no other injuries.
Clayton should be aching in every direction, but that royal asshole had decided to heal him after violating him and… claiming him?
Was that what the bite on his leg was? A claim?
Clayton’s dick leapt at the thought, and he glared at it angrily. “This is what got us into this mess in the first place,” he hissed. Since his body didn’t seem to be getting the brief, he added, “Knock it off before he gives us another kid and ditches us again.”
Still nothing. Did he have time to rub one out before he went to deal with the monster on his boat?
WasMal a monster? Clayton didn’t have the first clue what the man was, and that was saying something. Clayton was a research nerd beyond the telling. It probably had something to do with overcompensating for a lack of magic ability, but whatever it was, it had left Clayton with a ton of knowledge about the world, both Other and norm.
So if Clayton couldn’t tell what Mal was, it was a sure bet that no one other than a high-level dreamwalker would be able to, either. Where was Marshall when you needed him?
Probably teaching Cym how to walk or use a spoon or something equally simple that the boy should have learned ages ago instead of taking up the valuable time of the most talented dreamwalkers in more than a century.
Could Mal be a dreamwalker? Most creatures were one or two-trick ponies. Some of them, like the elemental sprites, could manipulate air, fire, water, and so on. They could be incredibly powerful at it, but they were stuck to only one element. Other races were less skilled than elementals, but still held an affinity with a specific thing, like how kirians were exceptionally talented with stone.
The fact that Clayton had two living on his boat was pretty unique. They must really like his kids in order for them to live on the water rather than underground.
Mal, however, seemed to be able to do anything he wanted without lifting a finger. That meant Mal probably wasn’t a witch.
Witches were more varied in what they could do than most races, but they relied heavily on spells and hand gestures. Otherwise, their magic could go horribly wrong, like when Cym destroyed an entire cemetery a few months ago after he tried to use magic without training.
