Chapter 15

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Assimilate. Assimilate.

"Yama-nii, Yama-nii, Yama-nii-nii!" Andromeda dances around Alexios as I put on my best I'm not worried at all smile. I can hardly find the nickname mashup of yamachichi and the affectionate Japanese word for big brother cute while my mind is back home, with Ash and a man who needs to stay blindfolded or risk turning people to stone.

With any luck, any of the fae here who can sense my worry—through magic or scent—will come up with something wholly mundane to justify it.

If anyone asks, I am prepared to blame my anxiety on Dani.

I haven't heard from her since Monday, even though I sent several follow-up messages asking if she was okay and offering to talk more whenever she was comfortable.

I…am really worried about her. I wonder if Cael and Alana will be here tonight. Kass tells me that sometimes they're too swamped with work to come by…but Cael might know what different sorts of creatures sound like through the phone? At least then I'd know what kind of faerie she might be with.

Scanning the room, I locate Willow and her vampire cat husband, Zylus; Brittny and Ollie, the werecanines—which are fae able to shift into any canine form—and Kassandra and Pollux.

No fae royalty.

No…Pila and Terra.

" Hush ," Alexios grumbles at his sister before we make it far past the entrance. Burying his fingers into Andromeda's hair, gripping her skull, and holding her at arm's length, he stops her from throwing a hug around his waist.

"Xios," Pollux says from where he's sitting with Kassandra on one of the couches, a possessive hand on her thigh.

Alexios lets a smile bare his pearly teeth. "Long time no see. I've been charged with apologizing for my absence."

Pollux arches a brow. "Have you now?"

Grace incarnate, he flourishes his free hand toward me. "Quite so. My soulmate claims I've worried you. As though, if my presence were desired, devices that could request such a thing don't connect us in any way."

Pollux grunts. "Your apology is going poorly."

"Possibly since I never so much as started it."

"A deciding factor, to be sure." Lifting his hand, Pollux rubs his eyes. "You could have told us what Zahra was to you. Our concerns wouldn't have applied to your soul's other half. We only sought to ward you off toying with Kassandra's friend for the—" He swears. "—of it."

"I didn't realize what she was to me when we first met. Compared to how long you had to wait…I wasn't even old enough to recognize the sensation."

"Daddy doesn't care about stuff like that," Andromeda chirps, throwing her weight up and wrapping her legs around Alexios's arm. "We're all happy for you."

Alexios attempts—fruitlessly—to shake his sister off him. "This is a sensory nightmare, tiny monster."

"Punishment."

"Meda," Pollux murmurs.

She slinks off Alexios's arm with a pout. Big blue eyes resting in pools of black sclera, she peers up at him—to no avail. When her attention flicks to me, brightness overwhelms her. "Zahr-Zahr! We're going to be sisters ! When are you and Yama-nii-nii getting married? Will you have a proper wedding? Are we going to meet your family? Will they get to know what we are like Mrs. Role's parents?"

"Whoa there. That's a lot of invasive questions…" My eyes drift toward Kassandra Role , and I try not to read into the way she's watching me as I deflect. "I'll let Xios explain that we aren't together together. He'll do a better job of it than me." To escape being a bystander in that conversation, I lift my hand toward Ollie, AKA the famous dolivers_not_trending. "Hey, buddy, did you get a chance to look at that email I sent you last week? I know service in Faerie can be spotty."

Laughing, Ollie smiles, pulling at the tan spots scattered across his pale skin to create a dimple in one cheek. He threads his fingers into his sandy brown hair as I plop myself onto the other side of the couch he and his wife, Brittny, are cuddling on. "You sent me an email?"

Willow, perched on the window seat in Zylus's arms, sighs, clicking aimlessly through movies on the wide screen TV. "As Ollie's agent, his emails go through me."

"Oh." I give her my attention. "In that case, what's the verdict?"

Willow's eyes roll my way, then she melts deeper into her husband. "Your email was sweet. But it neglected to inform me how much your friend is willing to pay for my client ."

I blink.

Ollie blinks. "What's…going on?"

"Don't worry about it," Willow comments.

I say, "I think Rogue's budget for his game's music is close to ten thousand."

Willow straightens up off Zylus. "Dollars?"

"No, churros." I throw up a hand. "What do you think we're talking about?"

Willow brandishes a devious grin. "My client would be delighted to work with your friend."

Ollie's brows knit. "Willoughby…did you just sell me for 10K?"

"Books are expensive. So are bookcases. And the addition of a library annex. Have fun making music for Zahra."

Brittny gasps, planting the tips of her fingers together, looking between her husband and I. "Ooh, you're going to do a fancy project together?"

I shift in my seat. "Not exactly? I'm friends with an indie game dev who needs someone to help with his soundtrack. I mentioned that I knew dolivers_not_trending. He loved your sound." I try to relax and not think about my baby. Even though Castor's phone came. And I helped him set that up yesterday after school. So I could text him, asking for an update. If the message sends, I'll at least know he hasn't absconded into Faerie with my son…

In my pocket, my silenced phone weighs a million pounds.

Ollie's expression contorts. "I know nothing about writing video game music? I play one instrument."

"Ollie." Willow's tone sends a chill down my spine. "Ten. Thousand. Dollars." Her eyes narrow. "There are programs you can learn to add extra instruments."

Nervous laughter spills out of him. "Somehow I feel underqualified… Zahra, do you have more information, and can you intercept any confirmation Willow tries to email to your friend before I have a chance to decide for myself?"

Brittny draws her fingers to her lips and gleams. "I have a brilliant idea!"

Oh dear.

Ollie's apprehension dissolves into tenderness as he cuts his fingers through Brittny's hair to draw the strands back over her round ear. "Yes, sunshine?"

"Xios and Zahra missed out on our open house, even though Xios helped us actually build it. Now that you're claimed, Zahra, you can enter Faerie. What if you both come over to talk business and have dinner with us soon?"

"How about next Friday?" Ollie says. "That will give me some time to look into my options and research how music for video games is made." A thread of interest weaves into his eyes. "I'll compile the questions I have, see which ones you can answer, then if it seems feasible, you can put me into contact with your friend for the rest?"

Normally, I would be all over a dinner party in Faerie , because, um, yeah. I still haven't been able to wander blissfully into any part of Cael's domain, given everything going on. Something about the impending doom of being away from my baby when I don't even know if he's thriving right now causes my anxiety to spike, though. So I laugh. "I'll have to check my schedule. It sounds great, but—"

"You know extroverts," Alexios's smooth voice murmurs above my head. Leaning against the couch behind me, he sighs—despondent. "Making plans with an extrovert like Zahra requires roughly five business months of advance notice, doesn't it?" I catch his eye as his brows dip together. "I wouldn't be surprised if you know the entirety of Mountain Vale, at the very least every shop employee." His gloved fingertip traces my widow's peak, reverent. "Even Alice."

From the window seat, Willow mutters a hissing, " Alice ," as though her arch nemesis has been named.

For inexplicable reasons, my face heats. And my heartbeat jumps.

When Alexios frees a sly smile, I bolt to my feet. "Sorry. Willow. Bathroom?"

She's scrolling through an animated section on some streaming service I can't be bothered to identify right now. "Down the hall, beside Ollie's room."

I march.

Once I'm securely in the pristine, pretty, pearly white bathroom, I drag a hand to my forehead, shake the sensation of Alexios's fingertip free, and pull my phone out of my pocket.

I don't need to message Castor. Because he's already messaged me. Multiple times.

Castor : Ash is refusing his bottle.

Castor : Because he hates me.

Castor : I've finally bribed the brat into feeding. Convincing him was nothing short of a heroic act. I may need to reconsider my archetype.

Castor : After failing to play with him (because he hates me), I've laid him down for a nap. He was bawling until I snuck away. Now, he's sleeping peacefully.

He sent a picture taken from the crack of my door of an empty crib—no dirt from Faerie, and no Ash.

Castor : Ah. I haven't enchanted this thing yet… Hold on.

A few minutes after the previous text, he sent another picture from the same position as the first. This one, however, includes my little boy in his nest of soil.

Castor : No eyes were revealed in the presence of the babe during the creation of these images or messages.

Then, just a few minutes ago, he sent:

Castor : I hope you're having fun.

My pounding heart calms. I stare at the messages for a long while, sorting through my thoughts as I grapple for a reply. I know better than to trust someone like Castor, even if he appears to be putting in unnecessary effort.

It's easy to act. It's easy to pretend you're good, and kind, and caring.

I know.

I watched my mom paint on her Christianity every week for church. Don't make me look bad became the anthem that prefaced any excursion. While my brother got the grace of boys will be boys , I was expected to be perfect.

So even I know how to act like I'm good, and kind, and caring.

It's easy.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I let air leave my lungs so I can refill my chest slowly. Then, I pray.

Hi, Sir… Two things.

First, please reply to Castor for me. I don't know what to say.

Second…please guide me.

I'm not like Alana and Willow. I don't suffer from an inability to separate my sympathy for fictional villains from reality. I've met real villains. You know I have. I still hate them, even though You forgave the ones who tortured and killed You while they were still in the act.

Thank You for never expecting me to be You while You work in me. I simply could not do Your job. There would be…so, so much smiting.

So, since I don't have Your job and judgment is well above my pay grade, tell me.

If Castor isn't a villain, how can I treat him the way You want me to?

I am pro work boundaries.

So, sincerely, I am forwarding this message to You, as my higher up.

May Your will work in me, allowing me the kindness and grace presented in Your character.

When I open my eyes again, I tap out:

Zahra : One day, both of you will join us. Assimilation is imminent.

Zahra : You have been warned.