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“There’s more than one pocket of toys,” I say. “The electronics are separated and need to stay that way.” Steve’s too busy wiggling a finger through the stoic ferret’s cage to reply, so I continue. “Lucy can’t learn structure from lazy examples.”
“Got it. Gadgets got their own place,” Steve says, ushering me into his house like I have time to do his job.
It’s always a one-way street with you.
“The car’s running,” I reply, and Steve takes the carrier and bag.
“So you and the new family got a name for this baby?“ Steve asks, reminding me to grab the creature's treats from the glove box of my car.
“Not yet,” I reply, rather than repeat myself. Greiko’s wrong if he thinks I can’t take feedback another way than with a knife through my shoulder blades.
The sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can find some time to think. And about anything but Greiko’s words. What’s next now that I know Greiko’s done with me and Felicity, too? I have no idea if Cyella’s going to mention me specifically in any of the numerous pieces, but I wouldn’t put it past her. What’s to stop her? I wouldn’t stop in the same situation.
I’m sure her liberal puppet masters will publish each one on every platform available to them. That’s bound to give me zero time to flee should the powers that be come to ask questions.
“Well, he looks like a Rudolph to me!” he replies as I hustle down his walk toward my not-running car.
I can still hear him, though I don't know how to respond to a Christmas story I didn’t ask for. Not in a nice way, and Greiko’s words don’t feel too far off. And I don’t want them any closer.
“I was thinking something strong like Ajax or Persephone if the creature’s a girl,” I holler as I open the driver’s side door.
I’ve been planning on surprising Lucy with all kinds of special trinkets for her new pet, which she will never get to teach tricks or take on walks. Not with that headache she calls a mother holding her back.
The image of a beaming Lucy and her new ferret riding shotgun in my Jag grabs my attention. Make-believe Lucy and her ferret squeal with delight as they pull out the glow-in-the-dark hammock I had Eloise order and tucked under the passenger seat. I have a second one stashed away in the side door, along with a laser light.
My cell vibrates in the center console, and I instinctively snatch it up. I let out a growl at the name splashed across the notification on my screen. Cyella.
Briarwood Bribery: The Growing Underworld of Unregulated Alchemy.I skim the article. It’s mostly about un-tested, undocumented enchantments and black market products going ignored by police. Topside stuff with nefarious repercussions Briarwoodies might consider disturbing. And for good reason, too.
The mage who crafted my papers trackedmedown. His skill in the specific art beat anything my hippie mage saviors could conjure, considering they were rebels but not ones who dabbled in lies for profit. I never figured out how the mage found me hiding with Greiko, but I do know he didn’t ask a single question about my plans Topside.
He just wanted the payment and knew more than a few spells directly invented to cast against my kind. A mage who can keep their identity hidden from a demon, shrouding their facein an illusion our willpower fails to see beyond, is the work of a very special kind of sorcerer. I stopped trying to see beyond the glamour as soon as they spoke.
Man or woman, what was clear about their blurry forms could be a lie in itself, so I have no idea who I gave more years to from my ancient well. I paid the price and would do so again. How many other supernaturals hiding a secret, demon or otherwise, might be willing to pay off the books? And with currency that’s unacceptable in this day and age?
“So yeah,” Steve says, pulling my eyes up from the screen as I approach the front door he’s never left. He’s probably been conversing with himself this whole time. “I think that’s a great name for him. I’m telling ya!”
“What do you know about this?” I ask, and Steve squints at my phone.
I suck a breath in through my teeth as he adjusts his glasses, rather than let me inside like I’m clearly gesturing for him to do now. I need to know what his son knows ASAP. What if the next expose hasmyname?
You think everybody owes you, Argoss.I wince at the intrusion.
“Only what it says there,” Steve answers. “Why? Worried her theory is right and there might be more going around here than we think?”
“I think someone’s done a lot of homework,” I admit. “This is going to put her on the map.”
“Or in a mess of trouble.” Steve’s actually frowning at me. I assume somewhere down the line I must have told him about my relationship with Greiko and the pixie.
“Which is something she cares little about,” I explain.
Steve shakes his head slowly at me, giving me a curious look that more or less translates to,I’ve never seen you so stupid.
“What?” The question falls out of my mouth before I can help it. Did I just ask Steve his personal opinion?
“She’d be putting this straight in a book if that were the case.” Steve clicks his tongue. “My son says he’s fifty-fifty on whether there’s more than the crimes uncovered. But I don’t know. Seems likely to me. Some people are really good at hiding. And most of them aren’t all that nice.”
I tell Steve I’ll pass the comment onto Cyella and wonder if I should take a chance and share what I can with her. While I doubt the pixie is an easy target, I do know she won’t stop looking, even if she becomes one.
