Chapter Twenty One
“Can you help me lift this?” I ask, pushing the last of the toy aisles back into place.
It’s heavier than the rest, made out of solid wood, but even if it wasn’t I’d still ask Jaak for help.
We’ve been putting the store to rights for the past two hours now and I still don’t trust my new abilities.
I already broke a bouncy horse toy and split another set of shelves in half.
“Of course, darling.”
The darling catches me by surprise. So far it’s been witchling, my heart, or Meadow.
Darling is new. Darling is nice. I’ve always wanted to be called darling.
I saw it in the old black and white movies approved by the Founders.
The men in those movies always seemed so sure about their lady love.
I’d never told anyone about my secret wish, that one day things would just click for me and Roy, that it would happen when he called me darling and all the feelings I was meant to feel for him would suddenly wake up and I’d feel… normal.
What girl doesn’t want to be called darling by her fiancé?
Answer: probably one whose fiancé isn’t planning to secretly sacrifice her to their ancient demon god.
That’s neither here nor there though. Not with Jaak calling me darling. The demon’s free use of endearments softens something in me that I didn’t even realize I needed fixed. I catch his hand and press a kiss to his palm on my way past him to start my clean up on aisle nine.
We right the shelf and stand back while Mort runs around like a chicken with his head cut off. He’s been obsessively magicking the store back to the way it was, or as close as he can manage before his boss finds out. Whoever Carol is, she’s scary. I really hope I get to meet Carol one day.
I peek over at Jaak to see he’s watching Mort with an amused look on his face, at least I think it’s amused?
It’s difficult to tell in his minotaur form.
I’ll have to watch him closer to try and understand his expressions.
It’s like last night in the bedroom all over again, the words I want to say get trapped in my throat but I force them out.
I was taught to be silent, to avoid what I wanted, but that’s not my life anymore.
I want Jaak. I want him to know how I feel, so I say it.
“I like darling,” I tell Jaak shyly.
Jaak turns his head to look down at me. “You do?”
“Yes, very much.”
He reaches down and catches one of my hands. “Then that is what I will call you,” he says, bending down to brush a kiss along my knuckles. The feeling is different than when he was human, but different can be good.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“Tell you what?”
“That this is your true form. I saw it, I mean, I think I did. In your memories. I saw parts of you when you were in rock jail but I never knew this was what you looked like.” Jaak doesn’t answer me. He looks down at the ground, so I go on speaking. “Did you think I wouldn’t like it?”
“Yes,” his answer comes immediately. “I’m not what a young maiden dreams of when she thinks of a husband, a hero. This form, who I am now, is monstrous. I’m the thing the hero battles to free his love.”
“What? No. That’s not true.” I come to stand in front of him and grab the hand still holding mine with my other. “That’s not true. You’re not a monster. Don’t say that.”
“Wait…” Jaak’s eyes come to mine. He looks me over and then shakes his head. “You truly think that.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
“I do. Of course, I do,” I tell him.
Jaak brushes the hair out of my face with his free hand. “There has never been another soul like you to exist.” His eyes move over my face slowly while a smile plays on his lips. He’s looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. “You are singular.”
“Um, thank you?” I blush at his words because Jaak could read me the phone book and I’d blush, but this? All his attention and the way he’s looking at me like I make the sun rise and fall. It’s breathtaking.
“So, you two are newlyweds, huh?” Mort asks, flicking his glasses between us.
I nod and lean into Jaak’s touch. “We are.”
“Happily so,” Jaak adds.
“I can tell. It’s written all over you lovebirds.”
I tilt my head to the side and tear my eyes away from Jaak. “So that you can see?” I tease.
Mort’s face gets red and he puts his glasses on with an imperious toss of his head. “If you must know, I’m nearsighted. These are prescription,” he says, tapping his glasses.
I bite back a grin and turn into Jaak’s side. “Sorry. I was only poking fun.”
Mort sighs. “I know, I’m just defeated,” he mutters and his shoulders slump, “I moved here to start fresh in a non-magical place and there’s a doomsday cult in the mix? That was not advertised by the real estate agent.”
“They’re cunning,” Jaak offers. “We’ve only managed our home through the demise of one.”
Mort nods. “Good. Eat the rich.”
Jaak makes a face but nods all the same. “Yes, a feast.” I keep my mouth shut. Mort isn’t making sense and I’ve teased him too much.
“How does your nearsightedness work? Like, they have to pass in front of you?”
He nods. “Yes, my abilities are hampered by distance. Anything past a few feet and I can’t detect it unless the power is extreme. Hence why I was able to track you the second you walked by, stuffing yourself with that candy everyone loses their minds over.”
I point a finger in the direction of the candy shoppe. “You’ve never been in there? It’s enchanted. At least the candy they gave us was spelled in some way. We couldn't stop eating it.”
He makes a face. “I’m more of a savory kind of guy. Sweets don’t sit well with me, so I’ve never been. I never even picked up a hint of magic from it either on my way to work.”
He sounds sad about not picking up on the magic. I wonder why.
“And seeing magic is your whole thing? I mean, along with the tentacles?”
“If you must know, my whole thing is magic detection. My kind have been sentries to the most powerful beings in all the worlds. My family is quite well known for it. You can imagine the disappointment they feel at my shortcomings. They would be ashamed to know that I was unable to detect an enchanted candy shoppe.” He runs his hands through his hair and starts to pace.
We’re at the back of the shop, near the cash register and Mort puts his hands down on it and leans forward with a heavy sigh.
“I don’t think he’s okay,” I whisper to Jaak.
“The Oculus does seem to be distraught. Do you think he wants the rich?”
Mort’s head comes down on the counter with a thud and the man sags forward entirely like cooked spaghetti. “No, I don’t think a snack will help right now.”
Mort starts talking again, face pressed down on the counter so his words come out in a muffle. “I thought that because I detected you that maybe somehow my sight got better. I thought if I vanquished you and brought you to my family as proof they would see that I was fine. That I was one of them.”
One of them.
“I-I just wanted them to like me.”
My heart sinks when I hear Mort’s sad words. “I get it,” I tell him. “Getting the disappointing your family hand in life blows.”
“It blows so hard. Harder than a gam of whales.”
“But just because we disappoint our families doesn’t mean they’re right. They’re the disappointing ones,” I say, forging on past the word gam. I’m going to have to get a dictionary to keep up with Mort’s lingo. “I-I don’t think your family is right. You’re not a disappointment.”
“I couldn’t even stop you and there’s an enchanted candy shoppe two doors down.”
“And the cult,” Jaak supplies helpfully.
Mort wails and kicks the counter. “The freaking cult!”
I poke his ribs before he can say anything else that might make Mort spiral and Jaak covers his mouth. Mort sniffles and I know I have to do something to comfort him.
“Look, it’s just one of those things. Sometimes life is shitty and sometimes it’s not but if it’s never shitty then how can you know when it’s good?
” I ask him and come close to put a hand on his shoulder.
“Families are the same way. Sometimes we’re given shitty ones that hold us to standards and goals that we never asked for.
Hello, they brought us into existence and it’s really selfish for them to do that and then be upset we’re not how they imagined. We never asked to exist.”
Mort stops crying. “Go on,” he says and I rub his shoulder.
“A bad family doesn’t mean that we don’t deserve a better one and when we’re finally given a good one we’re going to know. There’s no way we’re going to miss it, and do you know why?”
He shakes his head. “No,” he says into the counter.
“Because we know what a bad one feels like. There’s no way we’ll miss seeing it when a good one finds us.”
Mort pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks at me. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because you deserve it.” I smile at him. “Because I know what it’s like to feel like you aren’t right, like the way you are is just…wrong. I spent so many years like that, if I can help someone else not feel that way I’m going to take that shot every time.”
“You’re a good person,” Mort says.
“I know. It’s one of my worst traits.”
Mort smiles at me and holds his hand out to me. “From now on we’re friends.”