Free Finn Fancy Necromancy by Randy Henderson

apple yumminess waft over my face as I hid my smile, and my relief.
    â€œThanks,” Pete said.
    â€œAnd you’ve been helping Mort with the business?”
    â€œYeah. I still do all the lifting, and driving, but Mort also made me the head of security after this one time when a troll family tore up the viewing room.”
    I winced. “That must have been scary.”
    â€œYeah.”
    There was a long silence while Pete sat hunched over the pillow in his lap like a bear embracing its cub, then he said in a quiet voice, “If I ask you something, promise not to laugh?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œPromise? Because Mort would just laugh.”
    â€œI promise, Petey.”
    â€œOkay. Will you help me find a girlfriend?”
    I laughed. “I’m sorry. I just—a girlfriend? What makes you think I can get you a girlfriend? I’ve never had one myself, not really. Besides, I just got back from exile. I don’t know anyone.”
    He looked up with his wide, puppy eyes. “Yeah, but you’re my brother,” he said, as if that explained everything.
    And I guess it did, in a way. As much as I might have teased Petey growing up, I’d also been the one to protect him from the worst of Mort’s pranks, to let Petey play games with me and my friends, and the one he came to when he had problems. I’d always been his big brother—even though he was the one who protected me when it came to bullies—and clearly exile hadn’t changed that.
    After all the things about my life and the world that I’d found changed in the last few hours, all the things I’d realized were lost to me during my exile, Pete’s trust in me as his big brother was comforting, and I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks.
    I cleared my throat. “Are there any girls you like?”
    â€œNo,” Pete said, then looked down. “Well, yes, but they’re mundy girls, you know? And besides, there’s my monthly visitor.”
    I sighed. “Pete, I thought I told you not to call it that.”
    â€œIt’s what Mort calls it.”
    â€œWell, I’m telling you not to, okay?”
    â€œOkay. Trolling for vampires?”
    â€œWhat? No! For cheese’s sake, you need to stop listening to Mort. Call it, I don’t know, your wolf time.”
    â€œOkay. Well, how am I supposed to date anyone with my wolf time?”
    I had to be careful here. I couldn’t just tell him he wasn’t a waerwolf. After so long, he might think I was trying to trick him like Mort, and I wanted him to trust me. Especially if I only had three days to spend with him, I didn’t want to spend them with him mad at me. I’d tell him, but later. Maybe I’d mail him a letter just before exile. That was best all around.
    â€œWell,” I said, “you have the potions. So you don’t have to worry about transforming, right?”
    â€œBut what if I scratch or bite her?” Pete said.
    I resisted the urge to ask him what exactly he thought dating involved. Then I realized I had an easy solution.
    â€œActually, I think I might know how to cure you, all the way and forever.”
    â€œOh.” He didn’t sound excited.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    His voice went soft. “Well, if I stop being a waerwolf, there won’t be anything special about me.”
    â€œWhat?” I sat up. “Pete, that’s not true.”
    â€œYes it is. I’m not a Talker like you, or smart like Mort and Sammy, I’m just … me.”
    â€œOh man, Pete, you’re totally awesome, dude! Are you kidding me?”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œHeck yeah! You protect us, you make us smile when we’re feeling bad, you’re one heck of a painter and, well, I wish I had a heart half as big and good as yours.”
    Pete frowned down at his chest for a second, then looked up and smiled. “Thanks, Finn.”
    â€œNo problemo, brother.