by JS Harker
“We only started dating,” Derek said. “We haven’t had time to know each other that well.”
“And he already agreed to meet your parents?”
“He likes me. Is that such a bad thing?”
Mom looked stricken that he’d accused her of something terrible. She put a hand on his arm, and he paused in cutting potatoes. “Of course not, honey. I just want to make sure he’s right for you.”
She was sincere. Derek couldn’t fault her for caring. “Let me worry about that, will you?”
“I don’t want him to break your heart.”
“Stuff like that happens. It’s not the end of the world. And you don’t know it will happen,” Derek replied. “You need to start giving me the space to figure out stuff on my own.”
Mom sighed and nodded. She had a bittersweet smile as she let go of his arm. “I’m going to worry about you from time to time. I’m your mom.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Derek said quietly.
A snowball splatted against the window. When Derek looked out, Flynn and Lizzie ducked behind her snow fort. The top of Flynn’s blond head was visible. It peeked over the edge of the fort. Somehow Flynn must have seen him or known he was looking because he waved before they ducked behind the fort again.
“Well, he seems nice,” Mom said. “Your last boyfriend didn’t even want to speak to your sister.”
“My last boyfriend was a wrong fit. I’m trying not to think about him anymore,” Derek replied. “More than time to move on.”
“I’m happy to hear it.” Mom leaned in and nudged Derek, pointing out the window. Flynn and Lizzie were beginning construction on a second snow fort. She smiled and finally an unknown knot in Derek’s chest eased. “And I think he might be a good choice.”
Flynn was easy to be around since Derek had gotten used to his presence. He liked to laugh and filled their dates with wonder. Considering the questions he asked and his need to explore, he’d probably keep nudging Derek into finding a life he loved and supporting him. There were no guarantees, but Derek had nothing but good feelings about him.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
Chapter Fourteen
HOLIDAY decorations of every sort covered the Meyers’ household. From the outdoor lighting to the interior trees, Flynn investigated as many as he could in the first half hour. Fake trees, fake boughs of holly, fake everything. On the mantel was a manger scene with a tiny baby figurine in the center. He’d heard parents talking about Nativity plays while in line for their child’s photo, and he knew the story, but he’d never seen such a display.
So many humans believed in this one tale more than his kind. It was strange, especially since so many of the traditions had little to do with the story. If Flynn had to guess, he would say the holiday was more about gifts and “putting up with” family. That was what they talked about. That seemed to be their focus at this party as well. Proper homage to the infant should have been gifts given to altars, not other humans.
While Derek was away helping in the kitchen, Flynn knelt beside the giant tree in the front room. It smelled of plastic, but its touch was a better copy of the real thing. There was an ornament with some kind of writing he wanted a closer look at.
Lizzie ran through the room. On her second lap, she stopped beside Flynn. A little boy ran along behind her and came to an abrupt stop as well.
“Hello there,” Flynn said.
Lizzie scowled at him even as he stood. “You have really pointed ears. Are you one of Santa’s elves?”
“I work at Santa’s Workshop in the mall.”
“I told you, Lizzie,” the little boy said. “I told you I saw him.”
Lizzie pursed her lips. “Not Mall Santa. Everyone knows Mall Santa isn’t Santa. Do you work for real Santa?”
The actual entity of Santa had retired ages ago, but denying his existence would ruin their belief in magic one piece at a time. Flynn needed to safeguard that. “I don’t because it’s very hard to get a job with him.”
“Because he’s not real,” Lizzie said with satisfaction. She turned to the little boy with her chin held high. “I told you that Santa is baby stuff. Magic’s not real.”
“Now hold on,” Flynn said. He squatted down so he was more at their height. “There is a Santa.”
“You said you don’t work for him.”
“That’s right, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Please. Magic isn’t real.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You can’t fool me. I’m not a baby.”
Flynn shouldn’t do any spells before mortals, not in plain view. Lulu, his parents, the queen, and the bulk of the fey would be upset if they discovered what he wanted to do. But they weren’t around, and without proof, he’d lose this argument. Another child would grow into an adult thinking magic wasn’t real. Their world would be a little dimmer for it.
“I can do magic,” Flynn said.
“Card tricks and coins out of ears?” Lizzie said. “Please. I have a book. I can learn that stuff. It’s not that hard.”
“Does your book show you how to do this?” Flynn held up his hands, palms facing each other. Outside this would only take a moment, but inside, his magic required more concentration. He pulled together water in the air, dragging more and more and freezing it. A large snowflake grew in the space between his hands.
Lizzie and the little boy gaped at the snowflake, frozen in their wonder. Then Lizzie squealed. She reached out and touched the center of the snowflake. It held up against the heat in her hand. The little boy touched it after her.
Holding the delicate piece of ice against the temperature in the room took too much effort. Flynn had to let it drop. It fell to the carpet and melted. Both children jumped and chittered at each other about the snowflake. Flynn had to get past the pounding in his head in order to understand them.
Lizzie demanded, “Make another one, make another one!”
“It’s really hard to do inside,” Flynn said.
“Then let’s go outside!”
Flynn was pretty sure they were supposed to stay inside, and he didn’t feel up to moving. He sat down on the carpet.
“Could you make it snow?” the little boy asked.
“I’m not skilled in all the ways of Winter,” Flynn replied. “Controlling the weather is hard.”
“But let’s go out and try,” Lizzie said. She grabbed Flynn’s hand and tugged on him.
“My mom said I had to stay inside. It’s dark out,” the little boy said.
“Then stay inside. I want to see more snow.”
“Lizzie, what are you doing?” Derek demanded as he came into the living room. “My boyfriend isn’t a toy. Let him go.”
“Your boyfriend’s too awesome for you,” Lizzie said as she released Flynn’s hand. “He can do magic.”
Derek shot Flynn a concerned look, which only deepened as Flynn struggled to keep upright. The world was spinning a little too fast for him. Using magic inside hadn’t stressed him out like that before, but then he hadn’t strained himself to freeze something in a hot room. Derek came to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. He was too hot.
“Why don’t you two go bother someone else?” Derek said to his sister.
Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“Lizzie, please. I’m asking for some space.”
“Is he staying with us?”
“Yes.”
Lizzie raised her chin again. “All right. I’ll leave you alone, but tomorrow we try snow.” Lizzie grabbed the little boy by the arm, and they ran off to another room.
Derek knelt beside Flynn. His concern would have thrilled Flynn—no one besides his family had ever shown such worry over his well-being—if Flynn weren’t in the midst of a dizzy spell. He touched Flynn’s face, and his fingers felt like fire.
Mortals had other ways of heating their homes. They didn’t need to light fires on top of whatever other source
of heat they used. Calling together what little cold was left in the room was a mistake. Flynn was sweating. He never sweated.
“You don’t look good,” Derek said softly.
Flynn was quickly moving from okay to something terrible. “It’s too hot in here.”
“Okay, let’s get you outside.”
Derek helped him stand, and Flynn leaned on him for support as they made their way outside. Derek grabbed his coat, but he didn’t push one onto Flynn. Instead they went to the end of the porch.
Even a few breaths outside helped steady Flynn. He closed his eyes, and the breeze cooled him out. When he opened them again, Derek was huddled against the house, watching him closely.
“Flynn, it’s kind of prying, but we’re dating, and I think it’s kind of important to know, and you almost passed out in there,” Derek stammered. “Do you have a condition where you have to be cold? Like medically your body temp can’t get too high?”
Flynn leaned against the post. The cold coated him, and breathing was easier. “I’ve never thought of it. I was born to a northern winter.”
“Don’t you mean ‘in’?”
Flynn shrugged. Humans and their dialects. “I’ve never strayed far from the cold before. Our homes are fairly cool by your standards. This house was too hot, and then I—”
Flynn clamped his mouth shut. Blazing iron, he’d been about to tell Derek about the spell. As if Derek would believe him. Flynn wasn’t sure he wanted that question answered. If Derek didn’t believe him, their relationship might come to a sudden end. He didn’t want that.
“What was Lizzie talking about?” Derek asked. “She said something about magic. And snow?”
It was as if Derek guessed what he had meant to say. “Are you a mind reader?”
“I think I’d ask way fewer questions if I was.”
“Probably,” Flynn said. There was no sense in hiding what he’d done, not entirely. Lizzie or her friend might repeat the story and Derek would only ask again. “I showed her and her friend a trick.”
“Can you show me?”
Flynn’s ear twitched. Calling on ice indoors was hard. While doing so outside should be easier, he wasn’t sure showing Derek was a good idea. He seemed on the verge of figuring out Flynn was different. Denying him made Flynn’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He wanted to share who he was with Derek, but he wasn’t ready for the possible consequences. He didn’t want to lose Derek. He loved him.
Such a simple word, and yet the casual realization drove Flynn’s breath away. He loved Derek. He loved how he could be himself and how Derek opened for him. Derek was vulnerable, and Flynn never felt more comforted or protected by anyone.
He wasn’t ready to potentially shatter his newfound love with the truth, but he couldn’t lose it by lying about what he had shown Lizzie.
“I can show you, but you can’t ask how I did it,” Flynn said.
“A magician never reveals his secrets kind of thing?” Derek asked.
“Something like that.”
“Okay. I promise not to ask how.”
Flynn nodded. He held up his hands and concentrated again. Calling on the cold magic was so much easier outdoors, but he had more power than that. Somewhere deep down, Derek had to believe in magic, and that belief made it easier for Flynn to wield it. He drew water and ice crystals to the snowflake, making it more and more intricate. Patterns developed. Tiny interwoven knots formed endless linked hearts.
Without meaning to, Flynn had exposed his feelings, but only if Derek looked closely at the patterns.
“That’s amazing,” Derek said quietly. He drew closer and gently touched the edge of the snowflake.
In the cold, Flynn could keep the spell more stable, and so the snowflake spun. The effort tired him, but not quite as badly as before. He wished he could keep it forever.
“How—crap. I can’t ask,” Derek said. “Or maybe it doesn’t count. Or it does. Ignore me if you have to, but how’d you get the hearts?”
“You see them?”
“There must be a dozen of them in a circle around the center. Maybe more. It’s absolutely beautiful, Flynn.”
So was the way Derek watched the snowflake with honest awe. He had the same expression when he looked at Flynn, and it stole his breath away. Derek saw him. There was a chance he saw the real him.
Flynn used a bit of wind to let the snowflake drift to join the snow on the bushes. It sat distinctly on top. It cracked some, but the hearts remained obvious. Had his emotions influenced the spell? Did his magic know more than he did?
Derek wrapped his arms around Flynn from behind and set his chin on Flynn’s shoulder. With reverence in his voice, he asked, “What are you?”
Flynn turned in Derek’s arms. No malice, no lies, no judgment in his eyes. He wanted to risk the truth, but fear clawed at his throat, threatening to silence him forever. He whispered, “Yours.”
He kissed Derek, taking his time to tease and taste his lips. Derek moaned into their touch and tightened his arms around Flynn. Out in the dark winter, the world seemed to belong to them. Flynn clung to Derek and ground against him. After a moment Derek spun them and pushed Flynn up against the house. There was new warmth in his kisses. Flynn wanted more and more of him. He looped one arm around Derek’s neck and slid his other hand inside his coat, under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch.
Derek shivered. He pressed forward, slipping his tongue inside Flynn’s mouth. His breath clouded the air around them.
A tap on the nearby window startled them. Derek’s mother glared at them. Just barely audible through the glass, she said, “Get in here.”
Derek buried his face in the crook of Flynn’s neck. His breath was hot and moist. Flynn bucked against him, and Derek moaned. “Not helping.”
“Can’t be helped,” Flynn murmured.
“I, um, so can’t do this with my mother right there.”
Flynn glanced at the window. “She’s gone.”
“Yeah, but she’ll be out the door if we don’t get inside,” Derek said.
Flynn took Derek’s hand as they went into the house. The snowflake stayed outside, cracked through the circle of tiny hearts. Derek still didn’t know the truth about who Flynn was. Flynn tightened his hold on Derek. Hopefully Derek would still care about him when he did.
Chapter Fifteen
THE party wasn’t as terrible as Derek had worried it would be. The other guests were either too awed by Flynn to ask more than a few questions, or Flynn deflected attention whenever he didn’t want it with an ease Derek was almost jealous of. Eggnog with rum tasted way worse than he’d hoped it would, so awful he hadn’t finished the half glass Mrs. Meyer poured for him. Flynn drank his eagerly—along with three sodas and a bottle of fizzy grape juice. Derek had lost count of the number of cookies Flynn took from the dessert table.
Yet Derek was the one who felt like he was on a sugar rush as they made their way back to his parents’ house. They climbed out of the SUV, and Derek looped his arm around Flynn’s shoulders.
Maybe it was the Christmas lights, but Derek could’ve sworn the snowpeople in the front yard were better sculpted than they had been earlier.
“Can’t we stay outside?” Lizzie whined as they trudged toward the front door.
“It’s too cold, and it’s past your bedtime,” Mom said.
Lizzie glanced at Dad. “Please?”
Dad shook his head. “Nope. You can’t stay out here by yourself.”
“Just a little bit?”
When Derek was younger, Mom and Dad would bring him home from the Christmas party and help him build a brand-new snowperson to add to his collection. That changed when Mom gave birth to Lizzie, and then Derek didn’t feel like doing it anymore. Too cold. Too dark. But playing out in the dark and snow used to be a special time. The world was quiet, and it was just the three of them. There was a magic to staying up past bedtime.
And somewhere along the line, bedtime became less a rule, and being up past
ten wasn’t magical anymore. It was normal and dull. Then life was about growing up.
Flynn rested his head against Derek’s as they stood near the door, waiting for his parents to unlock it. Every moment with him made Derek feel special. Growing up didn’t have to mean the end of magic, and his sister didn’t have to miss out either.
“We can stay out here with her,” Derek said.
Mom frowned at him. “You hate the cold.”
“We’ll only be ten minutes. Twenty, tops. It’s not that long.” Derek glanced at Flynn. “Assuming you want to.”
Flynn grinned, and his smile was infectious. “Of course.”
“Yes!” Lizzie said.
Mom sighed. “Promise me you’ll be inside in ten minutes.”
“Promise!” Lizzie and Derek said together.
“All right,” Mom said. “I’m timing you.”
Lizzie let out a squeal of joy. She grabbed Derek’s hand and yanked him into the yard, which had the effect of dragging Flynn along too. “I have the perfect idea.”
“Okay, okay,” Derek said with a laugh.
Lizzie laid out her master plan as their parents went inside. Derek got to build the middle section, Flynn the largest, while Lizzie constructed the top. She gave them size instructions, and Flynn nodded seriously to each part of her plan. Derek knew he was sincere, regarding her word because it mattered.
They sang carols, and their voices seemed to carry on forever in the otherwise still night. For knowing so little about their culture, Flynn knew the words to most of the songs. Probably from all the versions they heard in the mall. Derek hadn’t sung any for a long time.
Derek wasn’t sure the last time he’d had fun with his sister. He regretted not joining in on the snow fight she’d had with Flynn.
Mom opened the door. “Come in. It’s been long enough.”
“I’m not finished,” Lizzie said.
“We made a promise,” Flynn said solemnly.
“We’ll finish it in the morning if we’ve got time before we have to leave,” Derek said.