Spin My Gold by Helen Scott & Lacey Carter Andersen

Author:Helen Scott & Lacey Carter Andersen [Scott, Helen & Andersen, Lacey Carter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phoenix Press LLC
Published: 2020-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

13

Alexis

Smith stands there in the doorway looking at me. Alive. Healthy. Well, for the most part.

"Smith?" I breathe his name as though scared saying it any louder will get rid of this illusion that's standing before me. We buried him. I threw dirt onto his coffin. How the hell was he here?

"Get in before someone sees you," he hisses at me as he grabs my hand and tugs.

I stumble into what looks like his apartment. The place is dingy and depressing. I'm fairly sure that mold is growing on the wall on one side. It's a studio apartment, which doesn't surprise me, but the fact that the bathroom is basically part of the kitchen is a bit much, even for me. Why am I focusing on this stuff? Because my brain can't process the other thing, the fact that Smith is alive.

Smith is fucking alive.

My mind feels like it's trying to open a corrupted file, going through the motions but there's nothing really there. Nothing I understand, anyway. I know I should be grateful that my friend is, evidently, alive, but all I feel is the hot burn of anger and betrayal inside me.

"What are you doing here, Alexis?" Smith asks from behind me.

I turn to face him and I can't stop the tears that spring to my eyes. "I buried you," I whisper.

"Well, as you can see, I'm not dead. If that's all?" He gestures toward the door.

"If that's all? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Smith? Why are you not dead? How are you not dead? I'm not leaving until I get some damn answers and you know how stubborn I can be. Don't make me gold you."

Smith stares at me for a long time, his face blank as he weighs his options. I know he's thinking about all the times I threw a fit and won because he wasn't as stubborn as me. I'm a little hard headed, what can I say?

Finally, he waves at the couch. "Have a seat."

"I'd rather stand," I say, looking at the stained monstrosity. No part of me wants to touch that. It looks like the kind of thing you'd expect cockroaches to nest in.

"Suit yourself," he says as he flops down, immediately picking up his fidget and clicking one of the buttons on the cube, while I wait for the cockroaches to come scurrying out from under him. I'm stressing him out; his fidgets are always a sign that he feels a lot of pressure in that moment. I hate that I’m responsible for him picking up his fidget and clicking it so furiously, but I can’t stop now.

"What was my mother doing here?" I ask, trying a different approach.

"Collecting her payment," he mumbles.

"Payment for what?" I ask, realizing that I am going to have to drag every bit of information out of him.

"We made a deal. She pays her necromancer friend to keep me off the radar of the Stiltskin brothers and I count cards for her." Finally, he looks up at me.

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