Chapter 16
Farrow
I shouldn’t have done that, but the moment he asked, I hadn’t been able to resist. It was far too easy to admire my cum on his skin and the way it slid over to his toy stuffed hole. He took it all, which meant I needed to fulfill my end of the deal.
He tracked my movement in the mirror as I walked around, dick still in my hand. “This is what you want to see?”
Timothy swallowed. “Yes.” He looked up. “You like this?”
Clearly, I did, so I’m not sure what he’s looking for. “Yes.”
“You want to fuck me?”
My breathing became jagged, catching on my ribs. Fucking him would cross a line, but it was a lie to claim I hadn’t thought about it. But thinking and acting were two different things. “Perhaps.”
“Can you fetch me a towel from the bathroom?”
“Sure.” That was the polite thing to do.
I tucked my dick away as I crossed the carpet.
I should slide back into the wardrobe and leave, as I needed to do my actual job.
I snatched a towel from the rail and turned in time to watch Timothy lift himself off the toy with a groan.
The urge to fuck him now, while he was stretched out and coming down from the high of pleasure, made my dick twitch.
No, I need to remember that he wears a dragon on his arm.
Even though I can’t sense any magic around him, that means nothing.
But if he was a sorcerer, I’d be sensing his use of magic.
The app on my phone should pick up any magic in his room.
I needed to check the rest of the house again to make sure there was none.
“Here.” I offer him the towel.
He takes it from me and wipes his mess from the wooden bed frame and the front of his hoodie before wrapping it around his waist. The toy juts toward the ceiling, waiting to be attended to.
“What do you know about dragons?” Timothy pushes the sleeve of his hoodie up to reveal the dragon. “My mother had one, and my father is afraid that I am friends with the same dangerous people as she was.” He lifted his chin and glared at me. “Are you the dangerous people he was referring to?”
And there it was—the confirmation that his mother was a sorcerer, and that his father was aware.
Timothy’s eyes narrow at my silence. “You are, aren’t you? You know something about her.”
I hesitated, but I needed to learn more about his family. “Not her…but people like her.” I point at his arm. “Sorcerers wear the marking of a dragon.” The blue was from the Eastern Brotherhood, but there were also Southern, Northern, and Western. “If your mother had one, then she was—”
“I have one, and I’m not a sorcerer. I don’t even know what that is.”
I tilted my head and studied him. “Are you sure you don’t know?”
His frown deepened. “In stories, they can use magic. But magic…magic isn’t real.”
“You might have said the same thing about monsters not so long ago.”
He shuddered. “No, I have feared monsters my whole life.”
I stepped closer even though I should have stayed back. “And why is that?”
He pulled his sleeve down. “It’s not right that you scare kids.”
“It’s necessary. Children can access magic—magic that sorcerers then use. If a child comes through to my world, they destroy and kill.” I glanced away, trying not to think about what it might feel like to explode into glitter. The pain would be over in an instant. Or at least I hoped it would be.
“Use it to do what?”
“Whatever they want. Some act alone and seek wealth and power, others, like the Eastern Brotherhood, work as a group to achieve something. I don’t know what your mother was working on.”
“Did monsters kill her?” His voice is little more than a whisper.
“I doubt it. What have you been told?”
“That she left…that my night terrors became too much for her.”
I closed the gap between us and grabbed his hands. “Your night terrors, your fear of monsters, is not what made her leave. The monsters were trying to protect you, to cut you off from magic. She needed you to believe, so she could use the magic you touched in my world.”
“Why couldn’t she access it herself?”
“She probably could, but touching magic and using it are two different things. Using a child as the conduit is safe. Without a conduit…” Am I telling him too much? “It is dangerous for the mind.”
I didn’t want him to think that he should start playing with magic. It was dangerous, and I didn’t want to report him.
His frown deepens. “How is scaring children protecting them?”
How do I explain it in a way he’ll understand when he doesn’t know anything about my world, and the damage children and sorcerers have done to it? My tail swished with frustration. “Fear breaks the connection. Maybe your mother left because you were no longer useful.”
“Asshole.” He throws the dildo at me, and I catch the slippery dick with one hand.
“I’m sorry she left you, and that you carry that hurt, but she is dangerous.” Timothy also looks dangerous with his lips pressed into a thin line and narrow eyes. “We keep a registry; I might be able to tell you more if you tell me her name.”
He hesitated and then shrugged. “Susanne Trapper.”
I repeated the name to make sure I wouldn’t forget. “I will try to have something for you when I return.”
Though I wasn’t sure how to fulfill that promise.