Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📖

his life. “What was Ro wearing? When she first summoned you, what was she wearing?”

The wicked leer. “Nothin’.”

She always did prefer to cast skyclad. “What about . . . when she had you . . .” I hesitate, not really wanting to remind him of his time on that terrible wheel. “When you could see the women through the mirror, what were they wearing? Coats? Scarves?”

He shakes his head, dreadlocks rattling musically. He’s threaded silver clasps onto some of them. I want to touch them. Run them through my fingers. Rub them over my skin.

How can I be distracted by him at time like this? I scrub my hand over my eyes. Try to focus. “What were they wearing?”

“Sexy little dresses. High heels.” He adjusts himself through his jeans, a movement my eyes track avidly, even though I try to look away. “There a point to this or are you just tryin’ to turn me on? ‘Cause you don’t need to talk dirty to me for that.”

“I’m trying to figure this out. Stop distracting me. They weren’t wearing coats?”

“Nope, no coats.”

Spring this year was warm, but even on Newbury Street, it probably wasn’t warm enough for sexy little dresses until May.

“Did Ro give Peter to you right away?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Coupla weeks.”

“After she exhausted herself?” It comes out nastier than it should. Why am I jealous?

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

I shake myself and try to focus. “So maybe late May.That’s a hell of a long time.” The potion I’ve given Peter could regress him to babyhood, but I want to leave as much of his memory as I can. If I’m going to take him back that far, he might as well not have any memory of Ro.

I don’t know exactly when they met, but I know it was sometime after Peter’s birthday in February, because he mentioned being dateless for his birthday dinner. That’s a point of reference I can fix on.

“Peter, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” The dreadful monotone. It makes me shudder.

“Peter, do you know who I am?”

He frowns. No, he doesn’t know. The potion’s already started eating at his memory. Chewing away the days and weeks.

“Peter, it’s your birthday. Do you remember your birthday?”

He nods. “The big three-oh.”

“Peter, you had a family party, do you remember that?”

“At Aunt Willa’s place.”

Before Ro killed her for the inferiarcus that she’d been hiding in her safe. “I want you to focus on the birthday party, Peter. Hold it in your mind. It’s the last thing you remember.”

He nods again.

“You’ve been in an accident, Peter. You hit your head. Your birthday party is the last thing you can remember. Hold onto it. Are you holding onto it?”

“Yes.”

“Picture each detail. Was there a cake?”

“Had an elephant on it.”

“Good. Picture the cake.” I nod at Jou and he scoops Peter up effortlessly.

I keep Peter talking all the way to the car. Focusing on the details of his birthday party so that it remains clear and fixed in his mind. Jou returns to the house for the three salamanders and unceremoniously dumps them in the back seat. Their claws scrabble on the leather as they jostle to look out of the windows.

I glance up and down the street to make sure my neighbors aren’t watching this strange performance. I should have thought to grab a bag of faerie dust.

Peter’s battered Toyota, parked a little way down the street, catches my eye.

What about Peter’s car? Maybe I should drive it. I don’t want to. Doing it once was risky enough. Doing it again is asking to get caught. I probably would end up in Bridgewater State if I got caught driving someone else’s car without a license. Someone who has no memory of me.

It’ll get towed.

I nod and climb into the back seat with the salamanders.

The cream and gold lightning salamander turns around from staring out the side window, blinks his tiny black eyes at me, and jumps into my lap.

All the hairs on my body rise. Power flushes through me like a fever. Something warm and gritty wells up in my throat. My blood thickens and each heartbeat slows, thundering in my ears.

The little salamander looks up at me. And purrs.

My hands close around him gently, reverently. Sparks jump from his scales to my skin, closing the tiny gap. Sealing the pact between us.

I look up, blinking, and meet the demon’s glowing eyes in the rearview mirror.

Tasty, sweet meat.

He’s—my familiar.

Yeah? Thought you two might be a good fit. The demon chuckles. Now I know how pimps feel. He starts the car, lets the engine turn over for a moment.

I reach forward over the salamander and touch Peter’s temple. Drawn to him for no reason I can name. Power runs down my arm in a hot pulse. The power to heal, to cure, but also to wound, to kill. I never knew they were two sides of the same coin before. Never felt so clearly the connection between light and dark.

A bruise spreads across Peter’s skin from my fingertips. I draw my hand back quickly.

Good idea, the demon says into my mind, pulling away from the curb. No one’ll doubt he hit his head.

I stare at my handiwork in horror. I’ve never hurt anyone with a touch before. In my lap, the little salamander turns several circles, claws prickling through my jeans, and settles down with a growly purr. He looks up at me with unblinking eyes, impassive as the demon.

Chapter 26

I cry all the way to Peter’s apartment, and all the way home after the demon takes Peter inside and leaves him on the bathroom floor so it looks like he slipped getting out of the shower. Small, hard, bitter tears that roll cold down my cheeks and make my nose run.

The demon and the salamanders let me cry. Jou says nothing. Offers no false platitudes. Wizard purrs at me and Izzy gives my tears a curious sniff, but otherwise they leave me alone and let me grieve.

I’m not totally sure what I’m grieving for.

Back at home, I ignore