Page 52 of Expensive

Howard tosses his bag onto the sand and begins to shrink back into his human form. I turn toward the water so he can put on some clothes.

This coast doesn’t have the same tranquil beauty of the Rixton beach or the cliffs of the Pallisade Ice Baths. The waves are too high, and they crash violently on the shore. It’s cold here, which I would normally like. But the chill travels up my bare legs underneath the robe, leaving me feeling exposed.

“Come over here, Andrew,” Howard calls out.

I look back to see Howard wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt instead of the suit he had on back at his office. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was on vacation, taking a leisurely stroll on the beach.

Around his neck hangs a thick, silver chain with a large red jewel that sways back and forth every time he takes a step. It’s as big as a chicken egg and has ragged, frosted edges. He holds it out to me.

“This ruby will capture the power of your sacrifice, which I’ll use to cast the grounding spell.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter. “Where is your drawing?”

I slip the sketch of Frankie from my right pocket and unfold it. I’m not much of an artist, so the teddy bear I’ve had by my side since childhood has lopsided ears in this illustration, and I didn’t manage to capture how sparse his fur is along his chest. My heart aches as I hand the paper to Howard.

“No, you keep it. I’ll be the one to cast the spell, but you must be the one to call Magic.” He flicks the lighter on. “Sing with me.”

But Howard doesn’t sing. Not really. He hums with his mouth closed. His voice is deep and resonant as he repeats a simple sequence of notes over and over again. I hum with him once I get a hang of the tune.

A strong wind whips through my hair and through my robe, almost tearing the paper out of my hand and blowing out the flame at the tip of his lighter.

“Now,” he whispers and opens his mouth, letting the song ring out into the night. He flicks the lighter a second time and places the flame at the bottom of my paper.

I open my mouth too and sing with him, watching the illustration of my beloved Frankie curl and disappear as the fire consume it. A funny feeling rises in my stomach, and the song changes. Not the notes, but the way the music travels through my body. My chest expands unnaturally until I worry my ribs are going to crack. The air I exhale seems to warp the world in front of me. Howard lifts his jewel, and the air twists into a tiny cyclone that funnels into the red rock.

“Keep singing,” Howard says.

I drop what is left of the paper, but my chest uncomfortably wide. A sharp, searing pain rips through me and the coast suddenly disappears, along with Howard and his necklace. I’m back in my bedroom where Frankie sits in the depths of the pillow fort Timber and I constructed.

Until he catches fire.

I want to rush over to him and put it out. But I know what I have to do. I continue to sing, and the music fuels the fire.

I’m a grown man, but my voice still becomes thick from the tears gathering in my eyes. Frankie was the one thing I brought with me when I moved to the Monroe mansion. He was my one friend in that cold attic where I hid during my childhood. He made me feel safe in a world that often felt like it had no place for me.

And now he’s gone.

My chest contracts and the magic leaves me all at once. The loss is a relief and painful at the same time. My feet collapse underneath me, and the world seems to spin for a few moments.

Howard crouches beside me. “I’m sorry I had to put you through that. The sacrifice is always painful. But we must hurry. We don’t want Kim to find us here.” He holds out his hand to me. “I need you to stand for the next part, or the spell will ground your legs instead of your feet.”

I grab his hand and pull myself back up onto shaky legs.

Howard smiles at me kindly. “You may want to watch this next part. Magic is painful, but it’s also beautiful.”

He holds the red stone above his head with both hands. It’s glowing with power now—almost pulsing with it. I feel tethered to that power, like it’s a part of me. In a way, I suppose it is.

Howard begins to hum again, but this time the hum is different. It echoes across the beach with an eerie quality. And I don’t just hear it with my ears; it vibrates through my body. This is a different song. The notes lilt and plummet unexpectedly. Howard focuses on the gem without blinking as the song gets louder and louder. The force of it crashes into me with the same violence of the waves upon the shore. It’s difficult to stay standing. My body sways with the beat—not because I’m dancing, but because I’m fighting to remain upright with every push. Then the direction of the power moves down my body instead of against it, resting on the tops of my feet. I lift one of them experimentally. It reminds me of the time I traveled to Alaska and hiked through an area of deep snow with snowshoes. Only these magical snowshoes are much heavier.

Howard bends over, resting his hands on his knees. “Hurry. You have less than an hour before the grounding spell will wear off. When you ask for a spell from Sarah, be as specific as you can. She’s usually straightforward about her interpretation of spell requests, but sometimes she gets confused.”

“You’ve asked her for a spell before,” I say.

He nods.

“Did she help you?”

He looks away from me. “No. My fated mate died during childbirth. I tried to trade my life for his. Sarah told me no.”

“Did Kim…”

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