Chapter 36

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How dare I not make my husband tiny frogs…

My brain feels very, very odd, and I would be willing to blame it on the fact I am sitting in a lab full of gleaming, bubbling, disturbing equipment, but I know it's because Pollux just stepped us out of a supply closet on the other side of the room before setting me on the metal table I'm currently sitting on.

"Breathe," he murmurs as he gets a pipette, lifts my chin, and captures my tears in a way that should absolutely not be activating my skank-reflex.

But it totally is.

I giggle.

"Kassandra, breathe."

I inhale deep, and exhale slow, smiling a little foolishly up at my pretty soulmate. "My head's fuzzy."

"I know, dearest," he murmurs. "You just tasted Faerie. It drives mortals to insanity, but it'll wear off in a moment."

"Have you done tests to learn that?"

"No. I have observed situations. First, you go a little drunk." Carefully, he delivers my tears to a tiny test tube. "Then, you break a bit. It's the most troubling part, because the haze lifts enough for you to feel your mind as it shatters. I should have told you to close your eyes. It can help slow down the effects. One way or another, the magic does infiltrate you, but it's less painful if you aren't attempting to visually perceive what your brain can't comprehend."

The fuzziness slips free as his words sink in. "You've seen that happen?"

"I have existed in parts of Faerie before Cael built his realm. There are some who coax humans into our world to watch them break."

"Like Castor?"

His head shakes as he gets the last of the dampness off my cheeks and turns to his equipment. "Castor is a magnet for those who have given up on life. He doesn't need to coax or trick humans into his palm; however, I have never witnessed him enjoy watching anyone break."

"Really?"

"He values a fight. There's nothing for him in seeing someone crumple all on their own. He'd much prefer playing a distinct part in the breaking, yet—to my memory—he always did seem disappointed whenever he'd win."

"That's…kind of messed up."

"An apt description of Castor."

Tilting myself in a futile effort to look around Pollux's broad shoulders at his chemistry stuff, I say, "Is it going to be enough?"

Pollux smiles—it's both chilling and stunning. "More than enough." He sighs, losing his smile. "Now, did things go well with your parents?"

"They thought I was in a lesbian relationship with Zahra for a moment. Shortly after they thought I was pregnant with your child. After that, the rest was kind of easier."

Pollux turns. And stares. Then he dares to say, "I suppose the jumping to dramatic conclusions thing is genetic?"

My lips pinch.

"Zahra doesn't strike me as entirely interested in romance."

I lift a brow. "Just say what you're thinking, Pollux. Stop being a hypocrite."

He clears his throat and returns to whatever magic science stuff he's doing. "At least they didn't think you were joining a cult."

"My tears were obviously a paid actress that assisted in validating my statements."

"Encore."

Relaxing, I fold my hands together against my skirt. "So with this you'll be able to go wherever you want?"

"Once I've stabilized the agent and created a conduit for its power just like I did for Andromeda, yes. It shouldn't take as long as the first time, now that I know what I'm doing."

"So you won't need me anymore?"

"I will no longer need to cling to your side worrying that I'll watch your littles dissolve into puddles of fear again. I will always need you. Intrinsically." As though he hasn't just said something incredibly profound, he nearly beams at the devices he's prepping. "I can't believe it. I won't need to use the self checkout anymore. I won't have to spend several minutes flattening bills so the machine will eat them. This opens up a whole new world of possibilities."

Does he try to be this precious?

Or does it just come naturally?

Either way…I love it.

And…I'm probably moving in soon.

Letting my gaze wander, I assess the questionable substances filling jars on one of the shelves while another overflows with books larger than some dictionaries. My attention catches on a violet liquid slowly rising through a tube on a different metal counter than the one Pollux is working at. "What are you distilling? The purple one."

He looks sidelong where I'm pointing. "Antidepressants for Alana."

"What's the active ingredient in faerie antidepressants?"

"There are several technical active ingredients that react independently to stimulate brain receptors and increase dopamine levels, among other things. Depression is a complex mental disorder that involves multiple regions and neurotransmitters, so the complexities of exactly how the chemicals prompt antidepressant activities are a bit lengthy to explain. Ultimately, I'm concentrating the properties of an aphrodisiac's tendency to create a high, then packaging it in a way that provides a more level release over the course of a twenty-four hour period."

"Do not chew," I say, intelligently.

"Correct." Pollux offers me a small smile. "Boogeymen come into being out of fear. Dream eaters gain consciousness through persistence. For many years, I was the silent companion of a doctor. These sorts of things, this desire to help, feels as much a part of me as the terrors that grew me into what I am today. Many fae don't have parents, but our origins do create something of a nature. It is up to us how we nurture it. These are the sorts of things I know. The sorts of things that feel correct."

A teacher and a doctor.

Imagine that.

I should tell my parents. They'd be so proud.

Jolting onto my feet, I say, "My parents. I dropped a bomb on them, then left."

Pollux twists. "You did what?"

"It's an idiom. I told them about faeries, then you kidnapped me. Who knows what they're thinking right now." I march to the supply closet, which seems to hold an alphabetized list of ingredients I've never heard of. It's all just a rainbow of colored glass to me. "How do I get back?" Something in the darkness almost seems to open up, but Pollux catches my hand before I can touch it.

His chest presses to my back as he grips me tight. "Dearest…could we not do that, please? I just told you ten minutes ago that Faerie makes mortals insane, yet you're attempting to traverse through a part sanctioned for boogeymen by yourself."

Tilting my head back, I look at him. "Oops."

"Oops is an insufficient response." Kissing my forehead, he murmurs, "If you are insistent on turning your brain to jelly, allow me the personal honor."

My heart hits my throat.

Pollux doesn't waste a moment. "Close your eyes."

I trust him as he takes me back through, and this time my brain doesn't seem to grow mold as phantom whispers linger just beyond what I think I can truly hear. It's uncomfortable, but I retain my senses. When Pollux says I can open my eyes again, I find him gathering up the yarn he knocked over before. "Were these just in bags?" he murmurs as he finds a receipt stuffed in the bottom of one.

Instinctively, I grab it out of his hand. "Yes, and no you don't need to read this."

"One hundred twenty-four dollars?"

I clamp the thin paper to my chest. "I was restocking…and getting all the different colors I needed for the frogs I still haven't finished…" Pointing pitifully at my desk, I say, "See? Not even close to the full rainbow."

"Kassandra, there are twelve of each color so far."

"And only four colors."

He takes a moment to count. "But twelve of each."

I fold my receipt up. "I have twelve children, and one Zahra, but Zahra will only want the green, purple, black, white, and gray ones."

"You are going to give Andromeda ten tiny frogs." It's not even a question. How dare he bring this energy into my presence.

"Everyone deserves tiny frogs."

"Where are my tiny frogs? I want all the colors. I will line them up on my desk beneath my monitor," he says absently, finding his bee on the foot of my bed.

I stare at the large man, who seems genuinely pleased to have found his bee as he sets the bag of yarn down so he can cuddle it.

Again, he is too precious for words.

So I add making another set of frogs to the list of tasks I need to get done before the Christmas party. It sandwiches nicely right in between asking parents and school board members for help with the party menu, and moving.

My mom knocks once on my door as she pokes her head in. "There you are, honey. I thought I heard talking back here." She glances toward Pollux, who has buried his nose completely in butter yellow. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Pollux lowers his bee. "Right. I apologize for the intrusion and the suddenness of this situation. I'm sure you have many things to talk about." He looks at me. "I'll head back home now unless you'd like me to help explain the whole robbing you of your tears…um…thing?" As sweet as pure sugar, Pollux's stare turns helpless. Then his jaw locks. "No, no. You can absolutely explain things on your own, in better words, so the food doesn't get cold. I'll…I'll go."

I say, "She's inviting you to have dinner with us."

Pollux has one foot in a void that makes my head all wobbly before I get the last word out. I lift my attention to his face as he says, "What?"

"Mom's inviting you to stay for dinner."

His gaze shifts from me, to my mother, then back to me. "I'm nearly certain I heard no invitation. I don't want to intrude."

Mom's smile takes on an edge that causes me to stand up straighter. When she speaks, it's with Mom Voice. "It's no intrusion at all. We'd really like to get to know our daughter's soulmate a bit better before she goes off to live with him. Next week. Wash up, then you can help me in the kitchen."

With all the finality that lingers inside a morgue, my mother turns on her heel and sashays up the hall.