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Bo

Just keep touching me.

That’s what I want to say.

That’s all I need in this moment.

To feel the beautiful witch’s warm, soft skin against mine.

I’m not used to being touched.

There aren’t many people I’ve encountered during my lifetime who wanted to get close enough.

I have vague memories of my mom hugging me.

Kissing my forehead.

Cupping my cheeks in her hands.

But then she was gone, and the touching stopped.

My father was not an affectionate man.

The kids my age were warned away from the monster.

Then I grew, gaining inches, gaining heft.

How tall I was, muscles increasing from my work at the mechanic shop, all just lent to my air of intimidation.

I didn’t try to scare anyone.

But the fear came naturally.

Georgiana touched me.

That might have been why I fell for her so fast. Maybe I read too much into her touches because it was the first affection I’d received in years.

That must be why Mor’s hand feels like heaven.

Like a drug. I could become addicted to the weight of her fingers.

I should pull away.

But the ecstasy is already in my system, and I’m not strong enough to fight it.

I’ve never been a fighter.

“Bo?” She says my name, and a shiver drags down my spine.

“I …” I clear my throat.

“A job. I need a job.”

A way to support myself so I don’t have to rely on her waving her telephone around to spend her money on me.

“Of course. We can make that happen. Some of the places you knew might be gone, but there’re plenty of new businesses.” She retracts her hand to reclaim her bagel.

“Levi owns a spa and hires monsters almost exclusively. And there’re other options.”

She takes a bite, then licks cream cheese off her middle finger.

I don’t think that should be allowed in public.

Mor Shelly should only suck creamy white substances off her digits in the privacy of her own home.

For the good of the public.

So brains don’t start melting.

Just like mine is.

I shake my head and go back to staring at the table.

“You make it sound easy. Setting me up with a life even though I’ve been missing for over a decade.”

I hear the sip of liquid and make the mistake of glancing up and catching sight of her plush lips wrapped around the straw of her sweet tea.

Why the hell can’t I stop making everything she does erotic?

Mor swallows, then licks a stray drop off her lip, as if she knows how every move of hers affects me.

“Oddly enough,” she says, oblivious to my inner thoughts, “my family has experience with this. Not that any of us went missing.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the glass rectangle that passes for a mobile phone today.

“But I’ll need to connect you to Jack and Ophelia. They were cursed. Lost chunks of their lives too.”

She taps the technology a few times, then places it flat on the table in front of me.

There’s a crystal-clear picture on the screen of a group of people sitting on a dock.

Three of the people are vaguely familiar, and I think they might have been there when Mor freed me.

I wonder if the wolfman is also pictured, only in his human form.

The three I recognize have red hair, the same rich shade as Mor’s.

But she points to two others—a small blonde woman sitting on the lap of one of the redheads, then a dark-haired man with hooded eyes, who frowns at the camera while everyone else smiles.

“Ophelia and Jack. They’re each partnered to one of my siblings.”

“They were in the statue garden?”

They pissed off a dragon by planning to steal an item from his hoard?

I actually want to ask, but Sev’s binding is on me.

“No. A sorcerer spelled them into small animals—a rabbit and a cat, respectively—so he could keep them captive and drain their magic.”

I grimace at the thought.

At least I was only vaguely aware of my captivity.

“Neither was trapped as long as you, but still. It takes time to adjust.” She retrieves her phone.

“I’m here to help. I have a free room in the house. If you don’t want to go back to Levi’s.”

Just the thought of reentering that towering building has me cringing.

Then an important fact pricks at my mind.

“I’m a monster. Your house is in Of the Wing territory.” I feel myself frown in further confusion.

“And you’re a witch.”

“Yeah, I had to get special permission from The Council. And they only agreed when my sister offered to work for them for a stretch of time.”

“Why go through the trouble?”

Mor spine straightens, as if she’s used to defending this point.

“My book collection is special. I want it available but also kept safe. A house formerly home to a dragon’s hoard has natural protections.”

Which I know better than most.

Suddenly, sitting still feels too much like the prison I endured.

I stand up quickly, causing Mor to lean back in surprise.

“Are there any other captives in the statue garden?” My anxiety has my voice coming out harsh.

Mor frowns. “No. You were the only one.”

I shake my head, my brain and body burning with the twist of emotions I can’t untangle.

“I’ll figure things out on my own.” I always have.

Relying on someone else was trained out of me early on in life.

“You don’t have to.” Mor leans forward again.

“There are plenty of mythics who can help ease your way.”

I huff a sad laugh, lacking true humor.

Monsters have always had to fend for themselves.

“Trust me, they won’t bother.”

“What does that mean?” The beautiful witch studies me, and I’m sure that given enough time, she could pry out all my secrets, magical binding or no.

“Means this town found me easy to forget.” I shove my hands in my pockets.

“Because no one wanted me here in the first place.”

“Bo. Do not say shit like that about yourself.” Mor is too adorable when she scowls.

Makes walking away from her hard.

But not impossible.

“Thank you, Mor Shelly. For what you did.” I offer a deep nod and meet her eyes hoping she can see the sincerity in mine.

“But don’t worry about me. You’ve done more than anyone else ever has, and I’ll always be grateful.”

Then I turn and head toward the forest, no direction in mind.

Just away from the woman who has me wondering what it would be like to be wanted.