Bing interrupted loudly, “I need to know if your aunt has some mystical connection to General Sand from the Monkey King story.”
Walter nodded. “It’s that necklace of skulls. If I understand the timing right, she started wearing it about the same time she started acting weird.” He rubbed his temples, easing his headache. “We thought it was the cancer. Or a side effect of the chemo.”
“She was sick?”
“She has cancer.” Then he swallowed. “Shehadcancer. It was the condition of my taking her money. She had to go see the doctor.”
Bing tilted his head. “What did the doctor say?”
“That it was bad.” He sighed. “It wasreallybad, too bad to be operable. And….” He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “He didn’t know how she was still alive.”
“You think that the energy of General Sand is keeping her going.”
He did. Which meant his aunt was possessed by a demigod who really needed to go back to wherever it had come from. He needed to banish Sand out of his aunt the same way he’d kicked out Monkey. But unlike him, he didn’t think she’d survive. He’d be killing his aunt, whatever part of her still existed.
“I’m sorry,” Bing said, and his eyes showed all the sadness that Walter felt. Understanding, resignation, and a deep well of grief that managed to comfort Walter.
“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it far more than the words conveyed.
Bing acknowledged it with a nod and then continued. “Sand’s one goal is to run around with the Monkey King. Except Monkey hasn’t manifested yet. Sand needs you to do it, except you’re not writing about the Monkey King. You’re spending your time making me into Red Wolf.”
“He’s a character I wrote. You’re an actor perfect for the role. I didn’t change you into him.”
Bing squatted down until they were eye to eye. “But what if you did?”
“No!” Walter slashed his hand down between them. “I did not turn you into Red Wolf!”
Bing raised his brow in challenge. “Are you sure? Because I’ve got his personality.”
“Because I wrote the character to match yours. You came first.”
“I wasn’t a werewolf before.”
He had a point there, and Walter squirmed at the thought. “You told me some sort of magic spell did it. That’s why you changed into a werewolf the first time.”
“Yes. It was triggered by magic, but the base had to be there first.” He pointed his finger at Walter. “You did that.”
Walter pointed right back. “You acted that.”
Bing shook his head. “I became that. Through magic, fan attention, and your special storyteller power, I became Red Wolf.”
What was Walter to say to that? They’d had this conversation before, but this was the first time Bing had made Walter responsible. Up until now, it had been an accident. A lucky weirdness. Suddenly Bing was suggesting that Walter’s magical power to create was at the base of everything.
He wasn’t buying it.
“If that’s true—if this mess is all because of me—then why aren’t any of my other characters wandering around?”
Bing rocked back on his heels and challenged him with an arch of his brow. “You tell me.”
The answer was obvious, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. Not like this, with Bing glaring at him. But what the fuck? He might as well spill it all.
Once he committed, it was surprising how easily the words came to him.
“Because I love you,” he said. Then he took a deep breath, startled at how free his breath was. Maybe it was because he’d longed for the courage to finally say these words out loud. “I’ve loved you from the very first moment we met.”
Bing swallowed but did not say the magic words back. Instead he focused on something else. “You wrote Red Wolf for me. Because you love me.”
“Yes.” Walter felt his heart sink. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t a mutual declaration of love.
