Fairy Tale: Winter's Bite

Chapter 11: Homecoming Party (Part 2)

Once they arrived in Salem, the twins buzzed around with more and more excitement at every turn Chris made.

Morgan landed on his shoulder and took a seat. "Daddy, are we going to see Mom soon?"

Joe gave him an I-told-you-so look. Another one. It was pretty much the only look Joe offered him over the last hour.

"I don't think Mom's home today," Chris said, pretending he didn't notice. "I'm going to try to find out where she is, though."

"Oh," Morgan replied. "Is she at work? I want her to see my new wings!"

Morgan was still in the process of perfecting her wing flap frequency. They were fluttering for demonstration as if she were showing her mother. And in the process, she gave it too much oomph and lifted off his shoulder by mistake. Then she slowed them down too much and thumped back to a seated position after a mini-free-fall.

"I don't think so."

It was a lot of buzzing in Chris's ear. He loved her dearly, but it wasn't a sound he could stand at that moment.

Morgan pouted at both his answer and flinch, and soon hovered over to Ryan, who was now playing a game of tag with Joe's palms. And that was all it took. With wings, all games were new. She was distracted again in record time and it stayed that way longer than it usually did. They were good kids—everyone always told him that—and whether it was due to the novelty of it all or just fear, or perhaps some combination thereof, they had truly exceeded his expectations.

If they were "bad" or just kids being kids. . .

He didn't even want to go down that mental route. It was possible they'd still be in Pyxis. Or worse.

About a mile from the house, Chris found a parking spot. He and Joe got out of the car and switched sides.

"Don't you want to get a little closer to the house?" Joe asked with his elbow leaning on the open driver's-side door.

"I'll walk the rest of the way. It'll be safer for us all if you avoid the area entirely," Chris replied from the sidewalk. He stared in the direction he intended to travel.

"Walking could take you the rest of the day," Joe pointed out.

Chris's eyes shot back in his brother's direction. "I'll hitch a ride somehow."

"What are we supposed to do while you're off playing spy?"

"I don't know! Go to the museum!"

The Salem Witch Museum. Were witches real? Made up? He'd lean toward real now! Regardless, Chris had never liked all the hoopla they brought to his town. And the subject matter wasn't ideal, but the museum was a crowded, chaotic place, especially during a vacation week. Joe could get away with wearing a costume and they'd stay out of the cold for a little while. Chris was being more sarcastic than serious, but there were certainly worse places they could go.

Like home. . .

Joe scowled, shook his head, sighed, the whole bit. "Where do we meet you, then, and what time?"

"I'll be back in a few hours. How about right here?"

Chris turned away and stood silent, refusing to answer any more of Joe's questions. A few seconds later—Chris was finally getting used to Modifying with ease—he shrunk beneath his clothes and redressed in his fairy attire.

As miniature Chris emerged, Joe removed the human clothes from the ground without comment or even a glance, and then he slammed the vehicle door shut.