House of the Unwanted: A House of Frost Novel

Chapter 11

By Dabeagle

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The parking lot was gravel, slanted down toward the river. There was a concrete boat launch, a small parking lot and a wooden building with a warning sign that was too far away for me to read. Keats turned the car off, and we huddled together, holding hands and looking out at the river. I could feel the power of the flowing water, far more than I could sense such a thing before, and it was well outside of the range I'd have been able to affect it before my bonding. I was curious about experimenting with my range but was far too content to sit with Keats.

He ran his hand up and down my upper arm as I leaned into him.

“Does...do you ever kind of just...get smacked in the face by how this all happened? I mean how it's just been so fast, but then most of the time it feels...comfortable? Like...routine?” Keats asked.

I thought for a moment. “No. The first time I met you I started having this feeling in my chest. Way more than a crush and not just some reaction to a hot guy.”

He squeezed me closer. “Stop.”

I grinned to myself, knowing how he gets embarrassed when I compliment his looks. “It's true, though. My only real fear was how you'd react. When Nick told me I was newly bonded, that's what freaked me out.”

“But why? I mean, wait, first you didn't even know? Isn't that kind of a big deal?”

“Yeah. I've never been through it before, silly. You kissed me and... Ty said that was how it happened with them, too. I think maybe the bond keeps building to a tipping point, and maybe some kind of intimate, physical contact pushes it over the edge.” I sat up a bit and looked toward Keats. “Although...after Moody got a shot in on my face, you rubbed your thumb across my cheek, and I remember you saying something about my eyes looking darker. Someone at school said something, too.”

“So you think touches like that move things along?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I'm just guessing.”

“Weird you didn't know though,” he pressed.

“Well, maybe I did, but I didn't realize it,” I said, looking out toward the rushing water. “The feeling I had in my chest, it was gone after you kissed me. So maybe I just didn't understand what that meant.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, I guess I can see that.”

“I don't miss that, though,” I said quietly. “For the first time I feel secure in something besides that nothing is secure. Feeling what you feel...it's amazing.”

We were quiet for a few minutes before Keats picked up again. “So, what does practicing look like for you?”

I shifted on the seat. “Nick said I'd be stronger after the bonding, and he's right. I can sense the river water at a range I wasn't able to before. Or I should say I can sense it more easily; I don't have to focus like I did before. But I want to see what my range is right now in manipulating the water.”

“Let's see then.”

We climbed from the car, and the wind picked up, spinning loose snow and dust around us. Although I could sense the water at this range, I wasn't quite able to make it do anything. I closed in a few steps and tried again. One of the most basic things to practice with water is a circle. Just an endless wheel of water turning. Sometimes you lose some of the water if you're not strong enough, if you don't have the control you need. That's usually when you're younger, though. I'd been passively sensing water around me for most of my life, manipulating it when I wanted to.

Of course, caretakers were usually a bit better at things like shields, so you didn't get away with things like I'd done to Don. I'd gotten into the odd fight at school and made a few noses bleed. I’d even given one guy a piss boner just because.

Hey. Nobody's perfect.

Running water presents a bit more of a challenge than still water. Physics can sometimes be a factor, although it's mostly instinctual. In moments I had a circle of water spinning about five feet over the water. It was about three feet across and was taking more focus than that size might normally, except I was creating it at more than twice my previous range limit.

“Uh, babe? If someone sees a spinning hoop of water, might make 'em stop to look.”

“Point.”

Rather than let the circle drop I reformed it into a funnel, dancing across the surface of the water. I ran it out as far as I could before losing control and letting it drop back into the river. I tried several more times, just to get a better sense of what my limit was, though it wasn't the perfect place since it was public. He was right, anyone could wander down here and the river was visible from the road.

“That's pretty cool,” Keats said quietly.

I glanced at him and back to the water. “Nah. Just basic stuff. Take a look at this.” I glanced around quickly to confirm we were alone, then pulled a large amount of water from the river. I quickly built columns on a porch that supported a triangular roof, a large door and bay windows to either side. “Water is freezing. What do you think of my ice water mansion?”

“Holy shit,” he said softly. I let the water drop back down, chiding myself for being so obvious; one goal is to not to let people see. He looked to me with wonder in his voice. “You could actually make a house out of water, couldn't you? Like, build it underwater – kind of like in a bubble like how Nick's house seems to be. Right?”

I thought for a second. “Uh. I never really thought about it. You'd have to be able to feed enough energy to make the rooms hold their shape, and to be solid for walking or dividing rooms...I'm not sure.”

He moved in front of me. “But maybe you could. Maybe you could make your own house and lead it.”

I smiled and let out a little laugh. “I don't know I'd want to.” I tilted my head. “I just want to be where you are.”

“In a water mansion?” he asked, grinning.

I smiled wider and shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows?”

I was pleased with my progress but ready to stop; we headed back to his car.

“So, I was thinking,” Keats said. “What if we...alternate staying over at each other's houses? I can bring you to school in the morning. Kind of maximize our time together, at least while we're going through this...whatever it is.”

“I like that idea,” I said with a smile.

He held a finger up. “This is kind of screwed up in a way. We're, like, married. But we're not independent. We don't have our own place, so we kind of need to be respectful to our parents.” He paused. “My parents, your grandparents.”

“Respectful how?”

“Just...it's their house, you know? So, getting permission?”

I nodded. “Yeah, okay. I mean...I get both sides of what you're saying. If I have a chance to be respectful of the McKinleys, then I need to. They've really helped me.”

He tilted his head. “Why didn't you just call them your grandparents? When we met you'd stumble sometimes, like you were going to call your grandpa Leonard instead of grandpa.”

I widened my eyes. “Well, because we're not blood related.” I related to him how I'd been running and how I came to be in the McKinley's home.

“Wow. I mean, we kind of owe them for being together, I guess. Huh? What else about you do I not know?” he asked, leaning in with a teasing tone and kissing me lightly. We spent a few minutes getting some satisfaction from kissing each other but were interrupted by a set of noises. At first I didn't string much together, because my brain was high on Keats, but a car door closed, and then another. There was some laughing, and then the car rocked, and someone was hitting the glass on my door. I turned to see Moody looking at me. He dramatically drew back his head and spat a huge wad of snot and spit on the glass.

“Oh, hell no,” Keats said and pushed at his door, but it slammed back shut, shoved by a hefty girl who had many familial attributes that identified her as in the Moody family tree.

“Fuck this,” I said. With the phlegm wad so close, I flung that back in Moody's face. He backed up, swiping at his face as though the nasty combination was attacking him rather than just having been flung back in his face. I got out of the car and shoved him back hard with both hands to get some distance.

“Oh, beat his ass!” the girl said, her voice bright and mean. “Beat his ass, beat his ass,” she chanted. Yeah, she was a charmer. I started with Moody, putting a twist on what I'd playfully done to Keats earlier. I yanked a gout of water to drench Moody and knock him into a state of confusion, which was only partially successful as the water made him stagger closer to me. He was surprised, but credit where it's due – he had his eye on the prize, meaning me.

He reached for me, and I stepped inside his grasp, bringing my hand up flat to smack his nose. He partially deflected my shot, but that was okay – it was more of a feint anyway. Feeling my strength from the bond, I lowered the temperature of the water, but also drew it to his crotch.

He frowned and took a step forward and that bitch was still chanting, though it sounded like she was moving and that Keats was having something to say to her.

“No kids for you, Moody,” I said with a grim smile and slowed the water into ice on his nuts. That made it even easier to do the same to his sperm – that water filled substance – and he paused for just a moment as the pain set in.

“What the fuck!?” he wailed and grabbed ineffectually for his nuts.

“Fuck!” Keats hollered. I turned to see little miss psycho was swinging a bat at Keats, who was retreating from her. He'd apparently driven her back to their car, but now she was threatening my bonded.

I've heard the term 'seeing red', but this was the first time I'd experienced it. Power surged through me like I'd never been able to handle, so much so fast it hurt. I'm sure I screamed at her – probably something incoherent – and there was a violent crack sound and the grille of their car splintered as all the coolant ruptured the block and flew at her in a surprisingly solid mass, considering it was still liquid. It smacked into her back, planting her face down on the pavement with a wet crack. I walked toward her purposefully.

“No one touches him!” I thundered. Or I imagined I did, anyway. I don't really have the voice for thundering. I was really pissed, though. The coolant and water mixture surrounded her face and I forced it into her nose and mouth, choking off her airways. She dropped the bat and started to wipe at her face, but that wasn't going to stop me.

I don't know where I'd have stopped – or if – if Keats hadn't shaken me by my shoulders.

“Tilman! Stop! You're going to kill her!”

I glanced at him and back to her, brow furrowing. “She tried to hurt you.”

“I think you made your point, Babe,” he said gently. I looked back to him and let my control of the water go. She fell to her knees, retching and spitting up the mixture.

“Nobody hurts you,” I said quietly, staring at him.

He nodded his head. “Yeah, maybe they got it this time. Come on.”

I glanced at Moody and he was still on his knees, tears running down his face and pulling his pants open, scrabbling at the ice. I didn't want to watch that. I got in the car with Keats and we tore out of there, driving around for about thirty minutes before equilibrium returned to us. It was an odd yet comforting feeling to have us in sync and able to balance each other.

Still, it was another thirty minutes before Keats moved on with our night and called his dad about our plan. It made sense, since he knew our situation, and I figured we could just speak to the Mc- my grandparents in person. While Keats talked to his dad, he drove us to his house so he could get some overnight things together, as he'd go to work after bringing me to school.

We were in and out of his house and soon back at my grandparent's home. Leonard was interested in talking to Keats about his truck, something to do with body filler after welding and sanding things down. I went into the kitchen and helped with dinner while they talked. Grandma had everything under control, so I just started washing things she was done with to save her the trouble.

“When a teenager does work without being asked, there's usually a price to pay,” she said with a little smile.

I gave her a sheepish smile. “I do try to help out, but I haven't had two working arms until yesterday, and you guys won't give me chores. Plus, it hasn't snowed again,” I reminded her.

She gave me a knowing look and smiled. “So, what is it?”

“Keats and I...we’re kind of having some trouble being apart right now. We want to alternate where we stay so we can be together. He'll bring me to school in the mornings.”

She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hung it up. “Having raised children my gut response is to say that isn't a good idea.” She looked up at me. “Being intimate with someone is a bigger deal than some people give it credit for. Adding in that you've known each other for just a few weeks, and that seems like a recipe for disaster.” She pursed her lips. “Of course, you're not an average boy, and neither is the situation you find yourself in.”

I leaned back against the counter. “Did your kids ever ask you to do something like this?”

She looked up for a moment and then back to me. “No, not directly. They'd ask to go camping or other things where you knew people weren't going to stay where they should be all night.” She shrugged. “To a point it's part of growing up, and everyone does that in their own time. Obviously, I'm not so concerned with you getting pregnant, but I can't help but worry this is happening so fast.”

“The bonding-”

“Is really hard to accept,” she said. She waved her hands. “It's all hard to accept, on a certain level. You whip into town and make roses out of my tea, and that Nick fellow seems like a miracle worker.” She sighed. “I appreciate you asking. I know, realistically, our situation with you isn't an average one. We haven't had years of a relationship to build trust and respect.”

I frowned a little. “I do respect you though. Both of you.”

“You are respectful, but that’s not what I mean. Trust and respect are built over time. You'd have experience with us, had we been spending time with you since you were little, to be comfortable with us and to be yourself. In turn you'd have respect for some boundaries and caring for our standards in our home – things that just usually take time to develop.”

I shook my head. “I'm confused.”

“Sometimes, I am too.” She gave me a small smile. “I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes I feel confused and flustered too. I wasn't ready for this question.”

I thought for a moment. “I don't know if this makes sense to you, but I can only explain it how I see it.” I licked my lips. “When I was in the Homestead, we had a lot of rules. I can deal with rules. I can even deal with knowing how to bend them – I'm not an angel. Sometimes I wanted to do stuff, or I got mad, and I'd break rules and get into trouble. But...I always felt like there was this cloud hanging over me, that as I got older I was just getting closer to some terrible fate. Like a cow that's slowly getting closer to being slaughtered.”

She raised a hand to her throat.

“At the Homestead we were part of two worlds. If you're raised in a House, like Nick was, you get schooled with other Magi the whole time. Working with your talent or blessing is like breathing. Someone like Nick was always going to be someone. Head of his house or someone important in the structure of his house. People like me – the unwanted – were disposable, and I knew that. So, when Michael literally burned it all down....”

“You had a chance to change your fate, as you saw it.”

I nodded. “Living on my own...wasn't fun. Sure, I got pretty independent, but I was lonely and scared. I had no one to talk to, no comfortable places to be or people to be with. I was also scared that Michael was that fate hanging over me, that he was going to harvest me. So...I kept moving.”

She smiled a little more. “Until Lewis hit you.”

I chuckled. “Yeah. But...I guess part of what I'm trying to say is, the caretakers we had were nice, and sometimes we even liked each other, but they weren't parents. They were there for a set amount of time. We were a job. So when you and your husband opened your home to me and said it was just because you could do something good...that's never been my experience. I've been...trying to show you that I'm...” I shook my head. “Grateful? That I appreciate Leonard taking the time to teach me things. That doing chores here at your home is because I live here, too.”

I rubbed the back of my head.

“But the bond...it's so much stronger than a crush or just angst. It's like constantly being nervous and unable to concentrate, pushed to eleven. But just being near him makes me more calm and able to think. Nick says that gets better, but...I'm really unhappy being away from Keats right now. So, he and I were trying to find ways to make it better, for now.”

She nodded slowly. “It makes sense. I won't say I'm entirely comfortable with it, but...yes, that should be okay.”

I let out a breath. “Thank you.”

She smiled hesitantly and then held her arms out to me. I went to her. I can't recall being held by an adult before. I mean, Keats doesn't count. Getting a hug isn't the same depending on who you're getting it from.

“I would have been proud if our daughter had given birth to you,” she said quietly.

“I'm your grandson in every way that matters,” I said quietly. “I'll do my best to make you proud and take care of you.”

She rubbed my back quickly and let go. “I think we can take care of ourselves,” she said with a little smile. “But thank you. Why don't we get the table set for dinner.”

Dinner consisted of Leonard relating how I'd come into their lives, and he embellished a little. A lot. Keats was red faced about the whole thing with the security guard. He made jokes about never having to shovel or plow again. Then grandma broke out a deck of cards and taught us how to play a game, and we passed the rest of the evening playing cards and telling random stories.

Somehow that turned into Keats telling them how the Moodys found us down by the river and what had happened – with some details left out.

“If this didn't send a clear enough message, I'm going to have to do something drastic,” I said quietly. “There are too many people they can go after that I care about.”

“Well. I'd like to say we can take care of ourselves,” Leonard said, glancing at Dorothy. “But the fact is they are probably stronger and meaner than I ever was. So maybe we watch our step and hope for now that you freezing his balls off has the desired, blood cooling effect.”

Later we got ready for bed and said our good nights. Once alone, things turned passionate. Like our last time, the pressure was relieved orally, but then we moved to the bed. Keats made warnings to me about being quiet this time, which caused some giggling and teasing. I have to admit though, that in the throes of sex with Keats, I'm not really aware of any noise I might be making. He lay on top of me, pinning me to the bed with his body weight. Inside I felt him moving, not just simple thrusts but moving in circles that churned my insides. I arched my back up to get more inside me, and he responded by pushing his knees into the insides of my own, spreading me wider.

Being face down wasn't enough, nor was the pillow, so I soon found myself with Keats's hand over my mouth while the ripples of pleasure washed out from where we connected so intimately, crashing against everything that I was. The feeling of ecstasy was so great that I'm not sure I noticed my orgasm, as I was too focused on the flood of feelings, how alive every part of my being felt. This time Keats wasn't apologizing; this time the flood between us spent the last of our energy. It was all I could do to clean us up.

As we lay together afterward, I know I saw a soft glow from our skin. I lifted my hand and moved it in the dark, wondering what it meant.

He kissed my hair. “I still wish I could have lasted longer,” he said quietly. “I wanted that to go on forever.”

I ran my fingertips along the inside of his thigh, trailing up between his balls, and his cock twitched under my gentle touch. I straddled his hips and leaned forward to kiss him, then whispered, “How about I do some of the work this time?” before slipping him back inside me.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

The dream happened again. Not exactly the same, but the fire was intense. I woke up with a start, feeling like my skin was overly warm, like a bad sunburn. Keats stirred beside me, but wasn't really awake. I took a minute to breathe deeply and to try and get the smell out of my nose – the smell of strong fire magic. There was a tap on the door.

“I'm awake,” I said.

The door cracked open. “There was another fire last night; it's on the local news. Also, Nick is here with some friends. You and Keats should come to the kitchen.”

Another fire? Nick and friends? “Okay. Coming.” The door closed. I glanced down at Keats, whose eyes were now open.

“Another fire?” he asked sleepily. “There was another fire? Like before this one?”

“Yeah. Day before yesterday.” I started to pull some clothes on. “But then there was the bonding thing, and I kind of forgot a little.”

He chuckled and rubbed his face with both hands. I tugged the blanket down to expose his chest all the way down to his cum gutters.

“Easy,” he said, grabbing the blanket.

“Aww. Would be a nice way to start my day,” I said, teasing.

He sat up, reached over the side of the bed and grabbed his underwear. “You know. This bonding may have done you a big favor with me.”

“Oh? I mean, probably, but what makes you say that?”

He pulled his underwear on and climbed out of bed to get to his bag. “I'm not really big on people commenting on my looks.”

I frowned. “But, Keats. I really do mean what I say.”

He pulled up his work pants.

“Like, I hate those work pants on you. They are way too unsexy.”

“Well, they're work pants, Babe.” He pulled on a dark tee shirt. “They aren't supposed to be sexy.”

“You're so sexy they almost are, though,” I said, continuing to tease him. He shifted on his feet, then pulled socks out and sat down beside me. I felt his discomfort and put a hand on his forearm. “I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad.”

He gave me a little smile. “You don't. I'm...just adjusting, I guess.” He paused and pulled a sock on. “A few years ago, I used to do some videos on car work. People would make really weird comments, and I started to feel uncomfortable and questioned the way I looked.” He pulled on his other sock and looked at me. “It's not that I think I'm ugly, it was just...I'm not my appearance. My videos were about cars, not my arms or ass. So...sometimes I feel a little touchy about it.”

“Well, you are way more than that,” I said to reassure him. “But how did the bond help me?”

He chuckled. “Because if you kept hitting on me with just compliments on how I look, I'd have walked away from you.”

“Oh,” I said softly. “I'm sorry.”

He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Don't be. If anyone can say that to me, it should be you.”

I waited a beat and then grinned at him. “Good, 'cause-” He kissed me before I could embarrass him. I pulled a shirt on, and we headed out to join everyone – and it was a larger group than I'd have guessed. I mean, I wasn't sure what 'Nick and friends' meant, exactly, but it turned out to be more than a couple.

“Good morning,” Nick said, standing up. “Tilman and Keaton, I'd like you to meet some of my friends and family. You know Ty, of course. This is my grandmother, and this is Cara and Brad – they go together – and this is Jay, brother of Brad and Ty's best friend.” He looked down. “And this is Sadie. If I visit, she comes with me half the time.”

His grandmother was neat in appearance, hair done up nicely, with a firm set to her lips. Brad was a strapping guy, handsome, and Cara fit neatly into his side. Jay was kind of barrel shaped, not the same build at all as his brother. And Sadie was a senior dog with a big smile on her face; her tail swished across the floor.

“Hi. Um, I'm Tilman and this is” – I glanced at Keats and smiled, “my bonded. Keaton.”

“Still kind of new, huh?” Cara asked. “Ty and Nick were like that, too.”

“Bro,” Brad said, reaching out to shake. “Any friend of Nick's.”

Jay waved. “Don't mind me. I'm just here because my best friend doesn't visit much.”

“And every time I see him, he reminds me,” Ty said, giving Jay side eye.

“So,” Nick said. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. McKinley, for allowing us to meet here for a few minutes; I promise we'll get out of your space quickly.”

“Not at all,” Dorothy said. “It's nice to have a group in the house for a change. Let me just bring that coffee to the table.” She went to the coffee maker and brought the carafe to the table, placing it on a trivet.

“Okay. Before we talk about the latest fire, Tilman, would you describe the last one for everyone, in case I missed anything that may be relevant?”

“Uh, sure.” I grabbed two cups and filled them, adding cream in both and handed one to Keats. He thanked me, and I turned to the group.

“So, it started with a nightmare. I was dreaming about Keats,” I said, glancing toward him.

“As expected,” Ty said with a grin.

I blushed and smiled. “Yeah, well, it didn't go anywhere other than I...dreamed he was on fire.” I glanced at him, and he looked very concerned. “I'm not a mind mage, and I don't have premonitions, so I thought it was just a bad dream. But then there was a fire, and I just had a bad feeling, so I went to look at it with my grandparents. I smelled fire magic, and met Nick and Ty there.”

Nick nodded and had a curious expression on his face. “Did you have a dream last night?”

I swallowed, though my throat felt dry, and I sipped my coffee before nodding. “Yes. Nothing specific besides just the fire. I'm not sure what that means, though, if anything.”

“Well,” Nick said, “As far as the dreams, you're right – I don't think there is anything pre-cog about that. I think it has more to do with you being opposites of a sort – fire and water. There is no familial connection and nothing else we know of to tie you and Michael together.”

I fidgeted. “Well. I don't know who my parents are. Were. So...is there a chance of relation?”

“Officially, no,” his grandmother said quietly. “There is always some chance, though. We should look into it at some point.”

Nick nodded and looked back to the group. “So last night there was a fire at a pump station just outside of town. Unlike the last one, this wasn't an abandoned structure-”

“Wait,” I said, my muscles tightening. “Was this pump station down by the river?”

“Yes,” Grandpa said. “Why? Is that important?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Maybe? I went out yesterday to practice, like Nick suggested. I was down by the river working on my range and control, and there was a wooden building there. I didn't get close enough to read the signs on it.” I paused. “Then we had a scuffle with two of the Moodys, and I used a lot of my talent. Like I was channeling more than I ever had – to the point it hurt.”

“That's interesting,” Nick said quietly.

“What are you thinking?” his grandmother asked.

He pressed his lips together and tilted his head from side to side. “Still just a theory,” he said. “Maybe nothing, but....”

“Your theories are usually worth discussion. Why don't you share and see what comes of it?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay, so...my theory is that Michael is following the magical scent of Tilman's water magic. Tilman told me at the first fire scene he could smell the fire magic. I'm not familiar with that being a corresponding condition for magi – a scent or particular trait that informs them of their opposite performing their blessing.”

“I haven't run into that either,” his grandmother said. “However it may require certain conditions to be met. For instance, Tilman may be developing into a very powerful water mage, therefore while he's also an opposite to Michael's fire, it could have a 'strength in suit' component.”

“Sounds tough to test,” Ty said.

After a few moments of silence I asked, “You want me to see if I can smell anything at this second fire?” I asked.

Nick nodded. “Yes. My thought is if he's vaguely following the 'scent' of your magic, that the first fire was simply him burning something in his path. However...if you have been using your blessing in a sparing way, then am I right to think your practice yesterday was your biggest channeling of aether since you arrived?”

I nodded.

“Then maybe he's homed in on that, in a rudimentary way.” He shook his head. “I don't really understand it, but it's like he's following this trail, but haphazardly, which may be a function of his mental state.”

“So...my magic is like bait for him?”

He shrugged. “It's a theory. A test might be to make our show of strength that we talked about and then see if that draws him in. That assumes he wasn't moving out of town, since the pump station was nearly the opposite end of town.”

I nodded slowly and then a thought occurred to me. “So. It's nice to meet your friends, but...why?”

“Oh,” Nick said with a smile. “They know what Michael looks like, so they will spend time in town to see if they happen to spot him. They'll start with the scenes of the first two fires and do searches to see if they can find a trace of him. They can check in to see if people had doorbell cameras that may have caught something, like Michael walking from or to the scene of either fire.” He pointed to Jay. “As I said, Jay is visiting, never having seen Michael. Sadie just likes coming on trips.” He glanced at his grandmother and nodded at her.

She turned her gaze to me. “I'm a null magus. If we do find Michael, I'll shut him down while the rest of you get him under control.”

I nodded and smiled. “I like that idea. He's scary.”

“He's also an idiot, which only makes him scarier,” she said. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “What do you expect when you feed a creature poison?”

“What...what do you mean?” Dorothy asked.

Nick's grandmother turned in her chair to face Dorothy. “Michael was never a bright child, not that you have to be in order to be a decent person. But his mother was taken from him early, and his father was weak, so he bent his son in such a way that he thinks Nicholas is his mortal enemy. That somehow Nicholas is to blame for Michael's life not going the way he'd like.” She shook her head. “I don't know if his inner rot is bone deep or if he could be saved, but he's caused a lot of harm. I'm not sure there is anything else to be done.”

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