“Anyway.” I put my hand on the doorknob. “I was late getting back to work and my boss gave me a warning. One more and I’m done.”

Frank stared down at his shoes for a moment. “No touching, no… Where am I?”

I grimaced and turned the knob. Frank was about to slip into one of his episodes. He would head home for some alone time, where, much to his cohabitants’ dismay, he’d likely move everything around and open all the cabinet doors.

“See ya around, Frank.” I nodded at him and slipped into the house.

Mordecai sat wrapped up in his inadequate blankets on the worn couch. He looked up from a book at my entrance, and his smile revealed straight white teeth that I was forever proud of. I’d been hounding him to keep those pearly whites in tiptop shape ever since I took over this outfit. His light hazel eyes sparkled with happiness in his dark face, the contrast exceptionally striking. He’d be a real looker when the treacherous journey through puberty finally ended.

He fitted a bookmark into the roughed-up paper before closing the volume.

“What’s today’s lesson?” I asked as I dropped my purse onto the small stand by the door.

“I’m reading a really neat book about trees. Did you know that they can communicate with each other?”

“Really?” My keys clinked as they fell into the bowl next to my purse. “Do they use sign language with their branches?”

“They communicate through fungi in the soil.”

I added my shoes to the others neatly placed by the door and crossed the trampled brown carpet to the tiny kitchen with its cracked flowered countertop and scuffed linoleum. “That right? What do they say to each other?”

I heard him grunt before his skeletal form drifted into the kitchen after me. A knit cap covered his tightly curled hair, still falling out in patches. If I could just keep us fully stocked with the anti-morphing serum, his body wouldn’t have to constantly fight the shifter magic snaking through his genes.

Mordecai was a rare case among shifters. He had plenty of magic to shapeshift, but the human part of him treated that magic like a virus. The surge of magic it would require him to shift would send his body into defense mode, putting him in shock. He’d never shifted because of this.

Thankfully, he had enough power to keep from shifting, even at the full moon, but a war constantly raged inside of him, depleting his energy and inviting in other sicknesses. Shifters could heal at amazing rates in animal form, and somewhat in human form, but that mostly just kept him alive. It did nothing for the pain.

That was where the anti-morphing serum came in.

Lesser-powered shifters used it to control the urges to change at inopportune times, especially at the full moon. For Mordecai, it dulled his body’s reaction to the magic. It calmed the internal fight, and relieved much of the pain. Not all, but a lot of it.

Unfortunately, it was incredibly expensive, and without magical medical insurance, we often ran out for a good week before I could get more.

I’d appealed to the shifter pack he’d come from, begging for their help. That had been about as useful as asking a starving man to share his steak. The current pack alpha wouldn’t hear it. He’d taken over after Mordecai’s father and mother had died, and didn’t want to risk their kid rising up to steal his mantle.

I’d explained that I wasn’t asking for the somewhat risky medical procedure that would cure Mordecai’s health issue (huge dream), just asking for a steady supply of the anti-morphing serum to keep him healthy (small dream). No go. It turned out that killing a kid outright was frowned upon, but letting nature take its course was considered acceptable.

Fucking shifters.

I’d then appealed to the local Demigod’s office, asking for help.

I’d been told it was a shifter problem, and to take my concern to them. When I explained I had, they returned with “It seems his fate has been decided.”

Fucking Demigods.

So here we were. Nestled in the crack of both societies, just trying to stay alive.

I plastered on a smile to hide the fear and sorrow filling my middle. “Through fungi, huh? Neato-mosquito.”

He sat at the round table straddling the line between living room and kitchen. “You sound like your mom.”

I frowned at him. “Not cool, man.”

His carefree laughter warmed my soul. “How was your day?” he asked.

“Normal.” No need to worry him. He wouldn’t have the same regressive view as Frank about being stalked, and he’d blame himself for my being late at work as soon as I showed him the blanket, which would ruin the surprise. “You?”

“Good. I straightened up a little in between lessons.”

“Yes.” I glanced at the crumbs littering the yellow countertop and the pile of dirty plates and utensils in the sink. “I saw the shoes.”

“That’s as far as I got.”

I nodded, pain stabbing my heart. Maybe I should’ve just given him my blanket. San Francisco didn’t get that cold, after all. It wouldn’t have killed me, and then I could’ve put that thirty bucks toward more of his medicine.

Thirty bucks toward the four hundred and fifty total I needed for the serum.

“How’s this online school? Any better than the last one?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

“A bit. It’s still a little slow.”

“Or you’re just a little smart.”

He grinned and shrugged.

“So trees are your new object of study?” I looked through the fridge, picking out the items closest to going bad. I wasn’t a great chef, but I was a creative one. Give me a few ingredients, however odd, and I’d make a dinner out of it. I’d learned from the best and had a crapload of practice.

“Yes. Trees first, then on to the ocean.”

“Are you still doing history?”

He leaned his elbows onto the table and his smile dwindled. “I’m keeping pace, but…”

“You have to keep that up.”

“Why? It’s mostly about Chesters.”

“You shouldn’t use that term. It’s not polite.”

“Fine, whatever, but all the stuff in the books is about them. Magical people have only been in the open for the last hundred years, but we’ve existed since humans have. Why can’t I read up on our history?”

“You can. You should. But you need to do both, remember?”

“They don’t teach human history in magical schools…”

“Yes, they do.”

“Only in high school, and then only the essentials.”

“That’s because they are elitist assholes. You need a thorough understanding of your world, Mordecai. And that includes human history.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Fiiiine.”

He might’ve been the sweetest kid on the planet, but he was still a teenager. I personally couldn’t remember how long puberty lasted, but apparently fifteen wasn’t out of the woods yet. More’s the pity.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back.

“No idea. I’m just looking over all these super-tasty ingredients.”

“Your grimace says you’re lying.”

Didn’t I know it. I wasn’t a huge veggie fan in general, but I absolutely hated half of the ones laid out in front of me. Whoever had cultivated Brussels sprouts should be shot.

But beggars couldn’t be choosers. Una down at the Natural Earth Shop, a non-magical crack-dweller who had made a nice little life for herself, was kind enough to give me some produce and other essentials. It was much better than starving.

“Need me to chop something?” Mordecai asked, wrestling his hands out of the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Yeah.” I pulled a few potatoes out of the bottom cupboard. “Handle those, will ya?”

The front door slammed, rattling the glasses. “Bitch better have my money!”

“Daisy’s home,” Mordecai murmured, sticking a hand out for a peeler.

“Jesus. What’s up with her?” I delivered a cutting board, peeler, and knife as Daisy’s petite frame stalked by with balled fists.