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“Asher.” He sat down on the rim of the glass. “Could I get a cushion or something? I ache everywhere.”
After sleeping on glass for a week, who could blame him?
I looked around for something comfortable but while there were no cushions so tiny, I pulled my old baby blanket out of a drawer and rolled it up into a nest for him just outside the jar.
Apparently, the idea of comfort far outweighed the need for safety as Asher climbed back up the rim of the jar and jumped into the blanket.
“Aaaah yeah.” He spread out as if he was making snow angels, his face relaxing and sporting a Cheshire cat grin. “That’s the stuff.”
“I’m Beatrix by the way.” I sniffed.
I didn’t have much experience with socialising, but as far as I knew it was customary to exchange names when meeting someone for the first time.
“Right, right. Thanks, Bea.”
Bea? My face flushed. I’d never had a nickname before. I liked it.
Hecate curled up next to the blanket and rested her head on the edge of it, slow blinking. Gods, she was cute. I started stroking her and an otherworldly purring sound emanated from her, causing the blanket to tremble a little. Asher linked his hands together at the back of his head.
“And a massage chair. I could get used to this,” he said.
“Okay, that’s enough.” I tapped the blanket, jolting Asher from his serendipity. He glared at me, and a part of me wanted to shrink away beneath the bed.
I was ten thousand times bigger than him at that point.
Gods Bea, have some spine, I thought. Hmmm. I did like that nickname.
“All I’m saying is that we need to work out what to do with you,” I said.
I couldn’t very well put him back in the jar in the cupboard. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure I knew my grandmother as well as I thought I did. The fact that she was capable of basically farming fae for their dust and punishing her enemies by putting them in jars, was beyond what I imagined.
“You know how to make potions, right?” Asher asked.
“Yeah, of course I do.”
“Great, just checking.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What makes you think I couldn’t?”
Asher spread his arms wide, a petulant expression just visible on his tiny face. “Possibly the fact that you’ve been dutifully drinking potions to suppress you for who knows how long. Makes a guy wonder if you decided to give up on magic altogether.”
“I didn’t know the potion did that,” I said, through gritted teeth.
Gods, this guy made me want to save him less and less.
“Well good for you. Any chance you could whip up a potion to undo this?” Asher gestured over the length of his body.
Hecate pawed at my arm. Even without her psychic voice in my head, I knew what she meant. Who was this little...twerp to speak to me like that?
“Who needs a potion?” I asked. “I could just feed you to Hecate.”
Asher rolled his eyes, massaging his temples with both hands. Okay, time to up the ante.
“Or maybe I put you back in that jar and shove you in the cupboard where I found you,” I said, folding my arms.
“No!” Asher scrambled onto his stomach, all sarcasm wiped from his face.
The moment his tiny shout had sounded, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside.
