Page 115 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

Making a mental note to order a helmet for homeboy, got it.

Laughing, I push inside my house and find Castor in my living room with Ash.

The second we approach, Castor’s entire demeanor brightens. “Xios. Razah.” He presents Ash’s little swaddled body. “Is he smiling? He hasn’t cried for an hour. Do you think he’s coming tolikeme?”

Ash…looks constipated. His little face scrunches the second his eyes lock on Alexios and I, then…a few whimpers turn into wriggles and sobs.

Castor’s smile disappears. “Was it all an elaborate hoax? Have I been played by this infant, my feelings tugged around like a ship in a storm?”

“Seems so.” I pat Alexios’s hand. “Do you need a moment, or can you give us a moment?”

Releasing a massive sigh, Alexios treads dramatically forth and sweeps Ash away from Castor, settling him instantly. “That’s right… Daddy’s here.” He taps kisses to Ash’s sweet forehead while sweeping out of the living room, toward the kitchen. “You like Daddy better, don’t you? Mm. Yes. Is it because Daddy’s cuter? Probably? Good boy.”

Hands tucked together beneath the long sleeves of his elegant robe, Castor mutters, “How actually dare he…”

How dare he indeed…

I keep telling him he’s yet to achievefather of my childstatus. Nonetheless, something about the sight breeds peace inside my aching chest.

“What is it?” Castor clips. “You’ve something weighing in your mind. How does it involve me? In case you weren’t aware, I have been behaving myself phenomenally well.”

Am I ever going to get used to the fae’s advanced perceptions?

No.

Probably not.

Stomach souring, I cross my arms. “Castor. Xios tells me you two had a discussion while I was ill.”

“Yes? What of them? I visited periodically, helped with the chores, and we talked about the injustice of canceling LARP day.”

Really? My brow arches, and I scan theevil villain princein all his lavish attire.

Then I recall I have seen him cosplaying as a blind ninja and move my expectations for villainy all the way to the ground.

Forging on, I grip my nails into my flesh. “He told you about my father, and what happened.”

“Ah.Thatdiscussion. He made me promise beforehand not to share whatever it was he told me, so I cannot discuss this with you.”

“My father—” My throat closes, stopping me from reaching what I’m trying to say. It hurts to eventhinkabout him. I spent so many years after what happened terrified of being alone with him ever again. I screamed at God every night when I couldn’t fall asleep, knowing a monster was in my house. Shaking, I listened to the voices of unseelie fae gather around me, spilling nightmares into my skin, and while I never could mention what had happened to my mother, I did tell her about those voices.

I hoped, maybe delusionally, she might save me. I hoped she would prove that she loved me enough to assume the devil was attacking her innocent child, and she would fight with me against him.

That is not what happened.

I release my air. Force myself to speak. “Have you already paid my father a visit?”

Moments pass, stretching like hours.

At last, Castor says, “Yes.”

The wicked convoluted bombardment of feelings that hits me sends my mind rolling. There’s sick, twisted satisfaction in knowing Itriedto begood, but God had already allowed retribution to happen. I croak, “How did you find him?”

“I know your name. I know where you work. It was simple enough to get your social security and unravel your birth records. Barely took me an afternoon.”

My lips press together. “You…didn’t even use magic?”

“I used a bit…to break into the school employment records. But, beyond that? No. Not really.”

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