Lawrence tied off his latest sweater. He used rib stitch from top to bottom. Around the neck and the ends of the sleeves, he’d gone for a smaller gauge yarn with the same pattern. He used rib stitch for flexibility, and acrylic yarn for its properties. Acrylic provided warmth comparable to wool, but it didn’t shrink in the wash, and it resisted stains. He used one color: pink.

  [Knitter – lvl. 24 (+2 AGI, +2 PER, +2 SKL]

  Lawrence smiled in satisfaction. A few more sweaters and he’d level up. At level twenty-five, he’d get another Skill.

  A white-furred Arctic wolf appeared out of the corn. It was his cousin, Allison, in her animal form. The wolf’s sudden appearance made Lawrence’s alpaca move to the opposite end of the paddock. The llama positioned itself between them and the wolf, nearer to Lawrence.

  Allison reared onto her hind legs. Her paws morphed into hands. Her body flowed like liquid as the fur vanished. She transitioned into a seventeen-year-old girl with high cheekbones and muscles. She took after her father, looking like she had a shot at becoming a Viking shield-maiden. She marched across the yard toward him. Being a Demonic Lycanthrope was cooler than being a Knitter.

  “Have you been sitting there all day?” Allison said.

  “Just the past few hours,” Lawrence lied. “Where have you been?”

  “Hunting coyotes.” Allie wiped a speck of blood off her muzzle. “I leveled up. I’m level five now. I get a Chosen mutation.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Lawrence said, deadpan. He rolled up the sweater. He stowed his needles in his backpack.

  “Did you guess what I picked?”

  “Animal Aspect four?”

  “Nope.” She waited, triumphant. When Lawrence did not respond, she plowed ahead. “Intelligence two. I can spend soul units to boost my Knowledge.”

  Lawrence nodded. He cocked his head as if waiting.

  “I gain a lot more mana for a short time,” Allie said.

  “Oh,” Lawrence said.

  Allie scowled. She sniffed, “There’s someone new at the house. Come say hello, little cousin.” She left.

  Lawrence was eighteen. He wished their relationship wasn’t so antagonistic. It wasn’t his fault he had been cursed to remain in a ten-year-old’s body for the past eight years. Allie hated him for it. They both graduated high school when they were ‘eleven,’ but Allie got to grow up. She had a driver’s license. Lawrence still had a bedtime.

  The doctors said he had a “pituitary gland deficiency.” It was a Curse. Moving on, his dream was to be a mage. He could have picked Farmer but did not. In his opinion, anything other than Wizard was a waste of his time.

  Cosmic Creepers butted his head against Lawrence’s shoulder. Lawrence rubbed the llama’s neck. The animal’s eyes fluttered in satisfaction.

  “See you tomorrow, bud.” Lawrence slung his backpack over one shoulder. He gathered the sweater under one arm. He walked up to the house. The screen door banged shut behind him. Lawrence took his shoes off. He walked into the sitting room.

  His Aunt Lupa sat in a chair with a glass of iced tea. Uncle Scott stood nearby. Across from them sat a young woman. She looked to be in her late twenties, with bright blue eyes, soft features, and a wave of blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. She wore black leather pants, boots, a white blouse, and a pink sport coat.

  The sport coat was frightfully pink. Disgustingly pink. The material appeared to drink the light, as if wasn’t part of this world. She ignored her glass of iced tea on the coffee table.

  “The flight was pleasant,” the young woman said. “I had no idea business class was so expensive.”

  “Yes, when you’re flying across an ocean, it isn’t cheap,” Aunt Lou said.

  The young woman caught sight of him. She rose to greet him. Her face broke into a genuine smile. When they parted ways, Erika had been a blackballed banking clerk in Hell. She’d told him she wanted to be a meat mech pilot. Lawrence sold his soul to get Erika out of her Contract and into a better job. He liked Erika. He reached out to shake her hand.

  “Lawrence,” she said, smiling with perfect white teeth. She ignored his hand. She hugged him for a long moment, then released him. She took a step back. A faint frown crossed her face. “You haven’t aged a day.”

  “I’m a level twenty-four Knitter now,” he said. He pinched the pink sweater between his thumbs and index fingers. He let it unroll as he held it up. “I made this.”

  “Wow,” Erika either looked impressed or had the grace to look impressed. Lawrence wasn’t sure which. Emotional intelligence was not his forte. Erika studied the sweater. “Did you make it for me?”

  “I did,” Lawrence said proudly. “I was hoping you’d buy it. Maybe, uh, fifty bucks?”

  “How did you know I was coming?” Erika studied him. She quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not due for another two weeks.”

  “Just a hunch.” Lawrence shrugged. He glanced at his aunt and uncle, who didn’t react.

  Erika said nothing. She waited. The silence grew uncomfortable. He avoided looking at her piercing gaze.

  “Is it in my size?” she said eventually.

  “Yup-puh,” Lawrence said.

  Erika’s eyes flickered with something like victory. The corners of her mouth rose.

  “I’ll give you a hundred.” She drew a wallet from her purse. She handed him a genuine hundred-dollar bill. She took the sweater, rolled it gently, and stowed it in her clutch purse. There was no way the sweater should have fit, but it vanished into the purse’s depths.

  Lawrence stared at the bill in awe. He held it up to the light. Victorious, he turned to his aunt and uncle.

  “Make it rain,” he said, beaming.

  “Congratulations,” Uncle Scott said. He smiled without ceding defeat. “You’ve sold one,” he added with condescending emphasis.

  Lawrence deflated.

  “Does this mean dinner is on you tonight?” his aunt said. Her tone was light, but the message was similar.

  Lawrence’s smile faded. He folded the bill into his pocket.

  “I’ll be outside,” he said. He went to the kitchen to grab his shoes. He picked up his coat on the way to the front. He left through the garage. He went out front to Erika’s rented car. She had expensive taste. He didn’t know cars, to his uncle’s chagrin, but he could tell this one was expensive. All sleek lines, angles, and a European ornament.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Erika came through the front door.

  “I’ll have him home by eight,” she promised.

  “Be careful, Lawrence,” Aunt Lou called. To Erika she said, “He’s my nephew. Take care of him?”

  “I give you my word,” Erika intoned. She placed her hand over her heart. “I will not allow any harm to come to him.”

  Aunt Lou looked mollified.

  “See you soon, bud,” Uncle Scott said. “Love you.”

  Lawrence waved half-heartedly. Erika got in the driver’s side. Lawrence got in the back.

  “Don’t you want to sit up front?” Erika glanced in the mirror.

  “Statistically, the center of the car is the safest place in case there’s an accident,” Lawrence said.

  “Okay.” Erika shrugged. She backed out of the driveway. She stopped to check Google Maps. “How do I get out of here?”

  “How long will it take us to reach Josephine?” Lawrence said.

  “How did you know we’re going to see Josephine?” Erika said.

  “Take Cedar Road south to the next intersection, then turn right.” Lawrence pulled his 3DS out of his backpack. He turned it on.

  Erika huffed. On the car’s map, she typed in the address of their destination.

  “In one hundred feet, turn left,” the car told her.

  Erika put the car in gear. They drove in silence. Erika turned south onto Cedar Road. She passed the defunct school. A mile south, she turned right.

  “What road is this?” she said.

  “It has many names,” Lawrence said without looking up. “Where are we going?”

  “I told your aunt and uncle we were going to Morris Hospital. It’s not as far as Chicago.”

  Lawrence grunted. “Stay on this road until you see the governor’s mansion, then turn right onto Route 53. Take the next left.” He didn’t look up.

  “Don’t you want to talk?” Erika said. “I haven’t seen you in six months. What’s new with Lawrence?”

  “Is the car bugged?” Lawrence said, blunt.

  “No,” Erika said, confused. “It’s a rental. Why would it be bugged?”

  “Rule number two.” Lawrence shrugged. “This isn’t a social call. Logic dictates you’re going to ask hard questions because I didn’t answer in front of my aunt and uncle. You hugged me, but you didn’t get inside me. You’re obeying boundaries around the adults, but this behavior wasn’t exhibited last time. You’ve changed.”

  “And you’ve stayed the same,” Erika said. She glanced at him. “Or maybe you’ve become more of a robot.”

  “Do you know what the speed limit is out here?” Lawrence looked at the speedometer.

  “No?”

  “Most country roads are fifty-five.”

  “So?”

  “So, d’you wanna get pulled over?”

  Erika frowned. She took her foot off the accelerator.

  “We’re not done, kid. We need to talk.” She realized she was speeding again. She slowed. The car’s gas pedal was touchy. “How did you know I was coming?”

  Lawrence said nothing.

  “I don’t know much about knitting, but I know sweaters aren’t made in a day. You’ve been working on this one a while. You must have been knitting all day to get it done in time. What gives?”

  Lawrence said nothing. He closed his 3DS. He shoved it back in his pocket. He stared out the window.

  “Come on,” she complained. “You can talk to me. Come on. We’re friends, right?”

  “Stop.” Lawrence screwed his eyes shut. He took several deep breaths. “Just. Stop. Don’t say ‘we’re friends.’”

  “But we are, aren’t we?” Erika pressed.

  “It’s the tone,” Lawrence said. He breathed through his nose. “You sound like someone trying to get me to confess to knowing something I shouldn’t. Just—just stop, okay?”

  Erika looked at him in the mirror. She slowed the car again. She wanted to set the cruise control, but the user’s manual said not to use cruise control when going over hills because it made the engine work harder. Rural Illinois had more ups and downs than she expected.

  “You’ve never worked with a boss, Lawrence. You’re too young,” Erika said. Her voice gentle, she added “You’ve been having dreams again haven’t you?”

  “They’re not dreams,” he said, looking down. “Sometimes I’ll be doing something and I just… space out.”

  “Do you still have Chokmah One?” Erika looked at his white hair.

  “When I left Maelstrom last year, I lost everything I’d gained,” he said.

  “Then why is your hair still white? It used to be brown.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. It felt like confessing a crime. “I have it. Josephine used Fruits.”

  “Oh.” Erika fell silent. She turned right onto Route 53. The car told her to take the next left onto River Road. She did.

  “This area is pretty here,” she said.

  “It’s a nature preserve.”

  Lawrence lifted his head like he wanted to speak. He stared into space without blinking. Erika glanced in the mirror. She slowed the car for the road’s twists and turns. She turned south onto I-55. She went over the bridge. The car told her to take the next exit. She turned onto Lorenzo Road.

  Lawrence blinked. He swayed in his seat.

  “Lawrence,” Erika said to get his attention. Sharper, she asked “What did you see?”

  “Her.” He rubbed his eyes. “And me. Um, I think it’s what would have happened if I didn’t leave last time. If I’d stayed with you guys.”

  Erika studied his face. There were circles under his eyes.

  “I saw Josephine. You ever see Star Wars? She’d never let me leave her side. I’d…” he shuddered. “She’s a professional slaver.”

  “Is it keeping you up at night?”

  “Every time I close my eyes, I imagine I’m back in Baron Peel’s room.” He shuddered. “I can’t watch comedy anymore. I start crying.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your aunt and uncle?” she said.

  He shrugged. His lower lip trembled. He looked out the window.

  “I had a… vison. You know Allie is part-cambion, right? With cambions, birth to adulthood is ninety days. My aunt is a powerful witch. I saw her singing poetry over Allie and I. She slowed our growth rates so we could have normal lives.”

  “Nice of her.”

  “That wasn’t all I saw. I saw other visions of people like Allie growing up. Allie’s a hellion: part-cambion, part-Nephilim, and one-half human. She should have grown up in three months. She took eighteen years.”

  “Then your aunt is generous,” Erika said. Her mind raced toward the conclusion. “She slowed your growth to match your cousin’s, and then someone else cursed you.”

  “Logic dictates she cursed me,” he said. “My own family. I just don’t know why.”

  Erika said nothing. She could well imagine why a refugee part-demon would do everything in her power to give her children a normal life. She could guess why Lupa had married a simple farmer in a town of six people on the other side of the universe.

  “She wanted to protect you,” Erika said. “You remember Maelstrom’s politics. If you had stayed with Josephine, what do you think would have happened?”

  “Death by poison. Stabbed in my sleep. Any number of things. Maybe her alien blood injection worked out and she became fertile. Once her first child was born, I’d be out.”

  “Your aunt loves you. It might not be her.” Erika didn’t know. She doubted the woman would curse her own son to be a child forever. Lie to him and tell him he was her nephew, Erika had no doubt, but it was not her place to say. Well, Lupa’s loss. The boy wanted a mom, and Erika was willing.

  “I feel like I’m going insane,” his voice broke.

  “If you were,” Erika said. “You would have no idea of it. Trust me. I know more than most what’s going on in people’s heads. I bet I know what’s happening inside yours.”

  “I don’t want to be a precognitive, Erika.” Lawrence took deep breaths. He couldn’t show weakness in front of her. “All the research I’ve done tells me they don’t end well.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Lawrence.” Erika turned north onto Route 47. She went over a huge bridge on the Illinois River. “I gave your aunt my word I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You remember how Contracts work? It means I promise. Promises can’t be broken.”