“You want to help?” the woman said. “Talk to your fairy benefactor. Find out where the demon is and then you’ll be of some use. But until then….”
She didn’t finish that sentence with words. She shut the door in his face. Which sucked.
He could paw at the door. He could howl and growl and maybe even knock the damn thing down, but what would that accomplish? Nothing. He couldn’t even call Bitterroot like this. He could only snort and plop down on his useless paws as he stared out—
“Feeling rejected? Oh, poor baby.” Bruce’s head snapped up, and there was the fairy, standing there with his tomato hat on and a smarmy look on his face. Bitterroot tugged on his lettuce lapels as he twirled around. “I’m beginning to like this outfit. I’m so handsome that I make even this look good.”
Bruce didn’t answer. He didn’t have a human mouth to say anything, though he did wonder if the creature could read his thoughts. Just in case, he thought something really loud.
You look like I could cut you in half with one bite.
The fairy stopped admiring himself and arched a brow. “You could try,” he said, challenge in his tone and posture.
Okay, so the guy could read his thoughts. That was disconcerting.
“Only the really loud ones. You’re buried in Oh poor me. I’m mute. I’m ugly. Nobody loves me.”
He hadn’t been thinking any of that. It had been more of afuck youto everyone and the world. But either way, maybe he could find a way to turn this to his advantage.
Do you know where the demon is? The one that everyone’s looking for?
“The one that’s killing the world?”
Well, it was just Wisconsin at the moment, but yeah, the whole world was going to tumble pretty soon after that.
Bitterroot offered up that shiny red apple. “Take a bite,” he said. “Maybe you’ll be the hero everyone needs.”
Bruce turned his paw over and tried really hard to raise his middle finger. Damn it, he couldn’t even give the guy a one-fingered salute. He dropped his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. Problem was, the fairy was still there, clear as day, though his eyes were closed.
Asshole.
“You can do it, you know. Be the hero everyone needs. My people have seen that much, but first you have to take the apple.”
Bruce rolled onto his side, stretching out his legs. Every drug dealer promised the same thing.Take this and you’ll feel better. You’ll be happy and everyone will love you.It was all lies.
“I don’t lie, remember?”
Said every liar throughout time.
“Listen to me, you idiot! We’ve seen it. I’m a fairy prince, and we want Earth to survive just as much as you do. I went to our seers, and they said that if you eat the apple, you can save the world.”
Bruce cracked an eye. He had to admit the picture Salad Guy painted was appealing. Except for the details.How do I save the world?
“That’s for you to figure out.”
In other words, the fairy was lying. What Bruce had tofigure out was how to become human again. And useful.
“Here’s a hint. Eat the apple.”
Eating the cherry fucked me over. At least before I had a purpose. Now all I can do is sit on the porch and stink like limburger cheese. Why would I go for the apple?
“Because we’ve—”
Seen it. So you’ve said. But until you can give me details, I’m not interested. Unless…. He lifted his head and stared straight at the fairy’s bright carrot tufts of hair. Unless you can tell me where the demon is hiding. That was what everybody wanted to know. That was how he’d be the hero.
Bitterroot shook his head and held up the apple. It still pulsed with that bright red temptation, the shine so bright it was hard to look at it and even harder to look away. But Bruce was a paramedic—he’d seen plenty of burned-out junkies and the disasters they left behind. Bitterroot was the same as every pusher on Earth, hoping to hook Bruce into something he didn’t understand and couldn’t control. So even though Bruce had taken the cherry, he was not going for more.No.
Then he closed his eyes, and this time, there was no fairy tempting him in the darkness. No fairy, but the apple still hovered there, looking bright and beautiful. Even better, the smell of hot apple cider masked the cheese scent, but only barely. And though he lay on the porch doing nothing, he knew that all he had to do was think the wordyesand it would be in his hand, in his mouth, and in his body.
