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He shrugged. “I guess that would be okay. Scilla said she was worried about the kids?”

“Sure. She’s also worried about you. Said something about you maybe getting too into the dark arts, which might get all of you killed, including your brother.”

He closed his eyes and put a tattooed hand over his face. “I’m so angry. What the Council’s Teeth did was so cold and heartless. And he made Donny watch him kill them.”

“Yeah, the Teeth is so bad. Can I ask you, why didn’t they come up with a better name? Like the Wolf of the Council, or the Council’s Fangs, or Claws, something better than teeth. I mean, I just see a pair of dentures running around chomping at people. And that would be terrifying to be chased by oversized old-man teeth that smell like bad breath and cleaning chemicals, I don’t think it’s the vibe you want to give someone like that.”

He lowered his hand and peered at me. “You are peculiar.”

I scowled at him and yanked my hand out of his. “Says the guy with knuckle tattoos. I’m not weird to think about branding. That’s completely normal.”

“You aren’t afraid of the Council coming after your daughter? After you? With the Hoar’s Grimoire, you could be a powerful force that the Council would certainly want to destroy.”

“Or I could learn how to help Sage control her issues with energy then move on.”

“Move on?” He said it like it was a strange Taiwanese dish that might include dog.

“Being a powerful force for darkness has absolutely no appeal to me. I want to make the world a better place. There are enough bad people doing terrible things. There are enough good people pushed into positions they don’t really want to be in, doing things that don’t fit, because they believe the lies people tell about them. I mean, do you really want to become this huge force of darkness so you can defeat a pair of dentures and the council? Then what? Kill a bunch of other random people for no reason besides your own pride or glory, or whatever you’ve convinced yourself is important? To ease your pain, right? This is all to ease your pain, but I don’t think it’ll make anything better. You’ll just become worse than what you’re fighting.”

His eyes were hard. “What do you suggest I do?”

I laughed. “Me? What would I tell a nineteen-year-old with knuckle tattoos that he should do with his life? What do you like? What fills you with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment?”

“Seriously?”

I shrugged. “As serious as I can be when talking to someone who believes in magic.”

“You don’t believe? But you saw Sage.”

“The word magic just rubs me wrong. Call it unexplained phenomena, or pushing the edges of tech. Something like that, and I can accept it. Magic?” I shook my head.

He gripped his hands and scowled darkly as he stared at the cheerful Persian carpet between his big black boots. “I feel at peace foraging.”

“Foraging? Like in the pantry looking for snacks?” That was legitimate.

“In the woods. Woodscraft. Harvesting the wildlings and then pruning back the dead growth so there’s room for the new. Following the paths of runoff and energy. Finding the nest of the deer and the owl. Being one with the woods.”

I’d been hoping for accounting, something that would help the teenager build his 401K, but this definitely beat dark arts. “That’s perfect. I bet we can find a book on that. Come on.”

I went to the shelf and browsed until I came across a whole section of small volumes on plant lore, herbology, and forest maintenance.

I pulled them out then carried them back over to him where he was still sitting on the couch, glowering at me.

“I can’t take Hoar House’s books away. It would kill me.”

“Well, you can read them while you watch Donny and Sage not kill each other.”

He gave me a blank stare and then finally stood up, big, shadowy misery. There was something about him that felt like family. I didn’t have family, but I’d had a few foster siblings who wanted to team up against the bad things around us. Sometimes the foster parents, sometimes the gangs, sometimes the students in school.

I patted his shoulder. “Come into the kitchen, and I’ll make you a sandwich while you start on the first book. Plant lore?”

He hesitated and then nodded. I put the book in his large hands, and he held it carefully, like it was a live bird that he might accidentally squish.

I made him a large sandwich with all the odds and ends I could find in the fridge. I definitely needed to go grocery shopping. I also put another pot on for decaf green tea. I frowned at my box. It was empty, but there had been at least six packets left. I closed the box and opened it, but the box was still empty. I tried a few more times, turning the box over and shaking it, but nothing came out.

“What are you doing?” Ray of Sunshine finally asked.

“I could have sworn I had more packets of decaffeinated green tea, but it’s empty.”