His hand wraps around mine, encompassing it entirely, and then he gently pulls me to my feet. I look up the plane of his body to his jaw, then his lips, and his eyes. They’re so white. Knowing how much he loves his books, but likely can’t read them, makes my heart ache.
“Bastian,” he says.
“Aaaaaaah!”
Oscars panicked call reaches me through the car door. I look at him, then back at Bastian.
“You promise,” I say. “Even if he claws you?”
“The binding words are upon your body. If I harm him, I will be punished by your magic accordingly.”
I turn to get Oscar when the last few words sink in.
“I’m sorry,” I say, whirling back on him. “Mymagic?”
He’s quiet for a moment, and in that quiet Oscar screams again, somehow louder. I ignore the question for now since getting my baby is more pressing than getting his answer. Oh, and getting the naked dragon some clothes.
I go to the passenger door and grab the bag with the boxers as well as Oscar’s kennel. Bastian waits in the doorway and I glance around to see if anyone else can see him. There are buildings on either side of us, but neither one comes back as far, and behind us is a row of trees, so, probably safe from flashing unsuspecting onlookers.
He moves back as I come inside and close the door, leaving us in shadows from the light cast beyond the hall to the store. I hold out the bag, brushing the back of his hand with it.
“There’s clothes for you in here,” I say.
He grabs the plastic at the side instead of the handles and the boxers fall out. I tsk and bend down to get them, putting myself at eyeball height with his genitals. I glance—only because I didn’t realize how close I was until it was too late—and I look away immediately because I’m not a pervert.
But there was some very interesting texturing to the underside of his…
I shake my head and pop back up, handing him the package. “These are underwear, and in the bag are pants. Just one pair of pants for now, so you’ll have to rock boxers on wash day— Ah shit. I don’t know where the laundromat is,” I say, finishing that thought with a pathetic whine.
This place needssomuch work.
“Laundromat…” Bastian repeats slowly.
I pinch my eyes shut and sigh. “If you’re going to stay here—”
“This is my hoard, I live here,” he says defensively.
“Right, and as the property owner, I’m allowing you and your hoard to stay here, but you can’t just laze about. This place is in shambles, and it’s not livable.”
“I’m living fine,” he says.
“You were nested in a pile of damaged books, that’s notfine,” I say.
Oscar “mrrphs” in agreement.
Bastian grumbles something unintelligible as he grimaces.
“Get dressed,” I chide as I open the package of boxers for him, then stuff a pair into his hand. “We have work to do.”
eight
NoRagerts
Ileave Bastian with the boxers and jog up the stairs with Oscar’s kennel. The door to the apartment is wide open and the book pile that was once at the door has been moved. There’s a small coat closet on the left and a little spot at the end of the entrance hall where I might place a bench for putting on shoes.
I turn right into the rest of the apartment and stop dead in my tracks at the sight in the center of the room. Towering altars of my special editions encircle the older, damaged books like Stonehenge. There’s a small nest at the center of the weathered copies, like a little gravy pool made in a mound of mashed potatoes. Scratches in the wood floor around the book pile glow with twisting gold and black magic.
I set Oscar down and take a tentative step closer.
