“Hey!” I yell, grabbing the faerie’s shoulder and yanking him back. “What’s your problem?”
The male blinks in surprise before his face distorts with rage once more. He jabs a finger in Silas’s direction again; the halfling pulls out a handkerchief and wipes down his spectacles.
“My problem? That hybrid cunt is fucking me over.”
Silas stops cleaning his glasses. My blood turns to ice.
“He’s just trying to do his job,” I say. “It’s not his fault—”
“Fae-fucker!” he shouts.
I groan. “Let’s just—”
“I can smell it on you.”
My body stiffens. There’s no way he could, but it’s too late—the faerie’s face splits open with glee.
“I knew it,” he says.
I wince. Heads turn in our direction.
“You do not deny it?”
I can’t. Even if I tried, the blood oath would trap the words in my mouth.
“She doesn’t deny it!” he shouts, laughing to the growing number of witnesses, blocking the view to the creditor’s counter.
My genius sparks, flaring to life, expanding its wings. I grapple to tame it, but the thing inside me dives and dips from my control. This is not what it was before. My eyes have returned to normal, but the change to my genius has stayed. The routine exercises are laughably easy. It is not just stronger—it feels smarter. It feels like its own creation. It feels alive.
Let me out,it seems to ask.Let me fly.
“You’re a fae-fucking whore.”
Flames erupt from my fingertips, warming my skin without burning it.
Gasps around me. Fire licks up my forearms, and I turn on the faerie, who pales. “Say it again.”
His mouth clamps shut.
“Miss Avery,” a voice cuts in, calm and gentle. “There’s a credit issue on your account we need to discuss.”
Silas.
Turning, I see the halfling male, face grave, twin flames in hisglasses. He looks like a monster with those fiery eyes. A blink later, I realize that it is my reflection, my power. I am the monstrosity.
“Avery?”
A child’s voice. A familiar one. Benji.
The boy gapes at me, at my arms, at the crowd. Something in me sputters out, dies. The flames fall beneath my skin once more.
“How’d you do that?” he asks, his voice touched with trepidation and wonder.
“I…don’t know.”
There’s a shuffling as Glenn emerges, putting a hand on Benji’s bony shoulder. By now, faeries have backed up, and as Silas gestures, they part ways, staring.
I go with Silas, Glenn ushering Benji away. Only the raven-haired faerie will not move, so we maneuver around him. He spits on me regardless.
