“Why not bring her back to this world, to a hospital?”There had to be a way for her to survive.
“She was a sorcerer, Timothy.She was never going to be returned to this world.”He stood and ran his fingers through my hair as if he gave a shit.“I need to leave.”
“Yeah.”I sat back on my heels.Why had I expected something to change between us?It was lust and extortion, that was all.And in five days, I’d do it all again.
Farrow pauses, head tilted.“Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not,” I snarl.“Someone stabbed my mother, and she died alone in your world.
“She was not alone,” he whispered, his voice sweeping over my skin like gravel.
“Because you tortured her.”
“She was not tortured.You call us monsters, but we are not cruel or careless.We take care of our sick, and we don’t leave people homeless.”He drops to his knees.“All we are doing is protecting our world from incursions from yours.Your people damage my world.Humans have turned my people to glitter, lakes to jelly, and created new creatures that ruined entire ecosystems.”His tail jabbed toward me like a scorpion about to attack.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that humans in my world have the power to reform it and kill hundreds of thousands of people who are simply existing.”He shook his head.“Santa.How can you know so little when your mother used you to access magic?”
“I don’t remember anything but my fear of monsters…” The dark and weird noises.But I remember her talking about the magic of Santa delivering presents.She loved Yule and Easter and Midsummer, all the celebrations.She told me tales filled with magic.I remember the way my father argued with her, claiming I was too old for such nonsense.
Farrow tilts his head.“So you do remember something.”
“I remember her stories and how she believed in magic.”Because she could use it.I glanced at the ink on my arm.I’d taken a couple of photos of her to show the tattoo artist what I wanted, but it wasn’t the same; mine was smaller and not as detailed as hers.“But I don’t understand why she needed me to believe.”
He sighed.“I told you.Accessing magic and using it are two different things.Children can access it easily, but it takes a sorcerer to wield it.Trying to do both would be like trying to build a bicycle while riding it.”
My lips curved in a poor attempt at a smile.
Farrow stepped into the wardrobe.“What is your stepmother’s name?”
“Why?”
“Your father married one sorcerer…he may have married a second.”
“They aren’t married.”Though I was sure that was coming.I gave Farrow her name, and then he was gone.In the mirror, I saw the golden haze beneath the bed.It always appeared after Farrow had visited and was always gone by morning.
The first time I’d wanted money, the second answers.I’d received both.Some might call it luck, or my excellent negotiating skills… Well, I’d used my tongue even if it wasn’t for talking.
What did I want this time?
Farrow’s warning about bicycles echoed in my ears, but this wasn’t magic.I was making a wish, or manifesting, or something.I certainly wasn’t using a child to access magic.I wouldn’t even know what magic felt like.
I needed to wish for something stupid.
My gut clenched, ready to expel the plug.
Toys.
And money.
I doubted that a box of dildos I hadn’t ordered was going to arrive at my door.
Chapter19
Farrow
“Where the fuckis all the food?”My brother opened and closed the fridge and then did the same for the pantry.I hadn’t seen him yesterday, but I was sure he must have done the same thing.
