Chapter 20
Still riding on the last fumes of adrenaline, I use my rideshare app to book a trip all the way back to San Francisco. The cost is truly insane—well over a hundred dollars. But my account is on Mom’s credit card, and after what just happened, she can honestly suck it.
Collin’s hand lands on my shoulder, giving me support as I huff and puff. He’s beaming.
“Jaysus! You were brilliant.”
I turn my head and smile up at him. His blue eyes sparkle back at me in the East Bay sun. He really is super-cute when he’s excited. Hell, let’s be real, he’s super-cute all the time.
“That was all you, Collin. I just did what you told me.”
He shakes his head. “No, Alvin. I mean, sure, I helped. But I’ve never been in an actual fight before.
The previous owners always kept the watch safe and locked up, for all the obvious reasons.
I tried to give you the best advice I could, but you made it all happen like it was dead easy.
It was like we were in an action film! I mean, Jaysus, we just went through the scariest thing I’ve ever been part of, and you made it fun! ”
Uh, I don’t think any of that was easy—not for me, anyway—but he’s not 100% wrong about the fun part. I mean, it was terrifying, but also, now that I think about it, it was kinda cool that I could actually fight off a grizzly, y’know? At least, cool with Collin there.
The car pulls up. The driver, “Dan,” is an older guy.
White hair. Faded brown small-check shirt over well-worn jeans.
Very heavyset. His stomach spills over his ample lap.
He confirms my name without even looking my way, and then we’re away toward an on-ramp.
After I snap on my seatbelt, he chooses to completely ignore me—which, as far as I’m concerned, is perfect. I need a little time to think.
Classic soft rock plays on the radio. Some old love song.
I settle into the plush back seat and let my whole body relax.
The adrenaline is finally sputtering out, and now I am tired.
But I’m still feeling the afterglow of whatever it was that Collin and I did.
Feeding on love. An echo of that sweet, happy note still rings inside. I want to hum along with it.
Collin takes my hand, and we’re like we were on the way to the druid’s. Just two boys who dig each other, sitting quietly together in the back of a car. Just being together.
But it’s not that simple, is it? Even what he just said about having “owners” (over the centuries, I assume?) reminds me that he’s not just some twenty-year-old dude who thinks I’m cute. Who could maybe become my boyfriend. Who I could even grow old with someday. He’s not human at all.
Then again, neither am I.
He playfully grinds his shoulder against my bicep—aggressively snuggling in, resting his cheek on my shoulder, his blond curls tickling the corner of my jaw—and that gooey lovefeeling swells in my chest again.
Fills my stomach, too. But I’m not feeding on him.
I know now what that’s like. No, this is different. This is coming all from me.
I think I could be actually falling for him. I think that’s what this is.
Uff.
I know I’m the King of Pipe Dreams. And I know everything with Collin is just some kind of illusion. But I’m not having to work anymore to believe we could love each other. Now I’m having to work not to believe in it.
My thoughts spin. This is bad. There are a million things I don’t know about him.
For example, I don’t actually know if he really is a “him”!
And even if I got great answers to every single one of my questions, I still need to free this spirit from the watch.
I’m going to have to let him go. There’s no way this doesn’t end without me being in a world of pain.
Without my heart shattered into jagged little pieces.
And yet… I don’t know if I can stop myself. From falling in love, I mean. Not without more information, anyway. He’s just too perfect.
I need to be smart, for once. I need to start asking the hard questions, and actually listen to his answers. Not let myself simply believe what I want to believe: that I get to have this, whatever this is, for free.
I inhale a deep breath and think about what I should ask first. Maybe I should start with something neutral, like, “Do you think Mom set us up?” Or maybe I don’t make this about my mother for once, and instead ask, “So, the druid was a bust. What do you think we should do next?” Or maybe, I just cut to the real question on my mind: “Collin, who are you really, and why do you keep saying you like me so much?”
In other words, please tell me how I’m supposed to trust you—because I really want to!
I decide to start there. If I can’t trust Collin, then really nothing else matters at this point.
Of course the problem right now is that Driver Dan would hear me talking to myself like a crazy person and for sure blow up my (already questionable) star rating with Uber.
That makes me wonder if there’s a way to talk to Collin without anyone else hearing.
Like in the back of my throat. I think I’ve seen that in a book or a movie or something.
What’s the word for that? To “subvocalize”?
It’s worth a shot, anyway. I clear my throat, ready to give that a try—and that’s when I get stabbed in the gut with a dozen razor-sharp blades.
Remember when I said that I thought the Obligation was waiting for the right moment to kick me in the nuts?
Well, it turns out that it’s hard to feel rageful when you’ve been hopped-up on love and your adrenaline is spent.
I have nothing left in the tank to push back against the fae’s magic, and it’s like the Obligation knows.
Sharp edges explode up through the lower chambers of my heart before spreading throughout my entire body in lightning-bolt zigzags—cutting, slicing, slashing. Channels of corrosive burn quickly follow in their wake. They aren’t real knives, it’s not real acid, but it feels real.
And it’s not just physical pain. I’m also consumed with shame, guilt, and this feeling of total self-loathing. A deep conviction that I’m nothing more than some asshole who breaks his word, and deserves whatever he gets.
Damn. If there’s a hell, it’s this. Physical agony trumped only by how much you hate yourself. I legit want to die.
I double over and grunt loudly. Collin immediately sits up, but it doesn’t take an Avatar of Knowledge to see that I’m in big trouble.
“Alvin, what’s wrong?!”
Corrosion and fire race through my veins.
Shame and despair consume me. It’s like there is nothing else.
I can’t talk. I can barely think. It was bad before.
But I had no idea it had gotten this strong.
The Obligation doesn’t just hurt—it feels like there is actual physical damage devouring me from within.
I snuffle and wipe my nose.
A wet streak of cherry red trails the back of my index finger.
“Oh, God,” Collin says, horrified.
With nothing in its way, the Obligation continues to tear through me.
The pain claws down my legs, and up my neck, behind my eyes.
And the self-hatred is so persuasive, it’s hard to even summon the will to fight it.
Because this is what I deserve. I should have given the elf what I promised him!
And if I’m the kind of guy who won’t keep his promises, then I should just straight-up die! Painfully. Awfully.
It’s a testament to how powerful fae magic is that 99% of me is totally convinced by that argument. Moments ago, I was basking in love. Now I want nothing more than to end it all. To end myself.
But there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want that. A part of me that never will want that. And it’s going to do whatever it takes to keep me alive.
The monster inside me. My hunger.
I don’t know why it didn’t rear its ugly head when I was poisoned an hour ago.
Maybe the “other botanicals” the druid used were specifically designed to fight it.
But that was then. Now the low thrum of predatory desire that’s been lurking in the background throws itself hotly against the pain in my limbs and head like a herd of raging bulls—and it knows what it needs to win.
I must be straight-up moaning at this point, because the driver turns around. “Uh, sir… Are you okay?”
I look up at him with a wild expression. I’m covered in dirt from the garden. Blood is, no doubt, streaming from my nose.
His eyes widen with shock. “Jesus!”
Our gaze locks—and that’s all it takes. My hunger flails out with savage, invisible tentacles and grabs hold of his soul.
Mom’s always made clear that you don’t have to learn to use your incubus power to overcome humans. That it just knows what to do. That it’s the most natural thing in the world. For us, anyway.
But it doesn’t feel natural. It feels ferocious.
His jaw goes a bit slack. His eyes soften. “Um…” he says. He blinks hard and twists his head, trying to fight the feeling the monster inside me is pumping into him. The need. The desire. I mean, I must look absolutely frightful. He probably doesn’t even like boys.
But he doesn’t stand a chance.
He swallows hard, turns back in his seat, and returns his eyes to the road. “I’m, uh— I’m going to pull over.”
I see him glance up at a road sign, then change lanes to direct the car toward a rest stop, and I feel satisfaction, the line between the monster and me blurring. This has been a long time coming, and it looks like it will be easy.
The Obligation is still flaring in my guts, though. It hasn’t let up. And despite being pummeled on two fronts, there’s a part of me that’s still me. Who I hope is the real me. Someone who doesn’t want to hurt this guy. Who doesn’t want to be a monster!
I grip hold of some of the guilt and shame from the fae magic and try to direct it toward fighting the hunger. Try to feel the wrongness of it. The wrongness of what it wants to do.