I think I got to frown. I'm not quite sure. If I did, it lasted less than a heartbeat, because his lips brushing mine melted it —and me— away. My eyelids fell, erasing whatever surrounded us, and I stood on my tiptoes to reach his lips better.

He broke our kiss a lot sooner than I would've wanted, and met my eyes with that warm smile that was my doom.

"Tell me again who's in the Manor right now?" he whispered, his thumb tracing my parted lips.

A stray brain cell, the sole survivor of his kiss, helped me answer. "The Blotters."

"Three, four of them?"

"Six."

"Six, wow. And your two friends, and Isaac, right?"

"Yes."

"And a demon in the garden."

"He's not a demon."

"Well, your hellhound pet in the garden."

"Yes."

He tilted his head and I knew whatever he asked, I wouldn't refuse.

"How about sleeping here?"

The bastard whispered it with his lips brushing mine. Was I to say no? I just kissed him. And I had to stop him when he tried to turn to the bed.

"What."

"I gotta get the place ready for Kujo to spend the day here."

"Need a hand?"

I mirrored his smirk and we ended up chuckling.

"You could try to tidy up a little here. I mean, I wouldn't wanna find a shoe under my pillow"

"Go, go, you bossy young lady."

I trotted down the stairs and out of the guesthouse. At the Manor, the cat ball remained dark on the kitchen table, so I went on to the basement. I picked up my sleeping bag from the corner and hurried back up, closing the backdoor on my way out. I stopped halfway to the guesthouse and looked around, trying to hear any sound that seemed out of place. Nothing.

"Kujo?" I tried.

A moment later, a big bush at the end of the garden bent to the side and I felt the ground vibration come closer, to stop abruptly just a step away. Brandon showed out the window.

"What was that?" he asked from up there.

"Kujo," I replied, grinning.

"It's a fucking mammoth!"

"Fran."

I reached out and felt the heat wrap around my hand right away.

"Hey, my boy, go enjoy the night and come to the guesthouse before sunrise, okay? You can rest there away from daylight."

"Yes. Yes. Guesthouse."

Despite the lack of intonation of the electronic voice, the words themselves made me think the poor thing couldn't be happier.

"Remember to watch your energy, 'cause you ain't getting any more snacks until we take you home, and that could be a couple of days, okay?"

"Home. Fran."

"Yeah, my boy, I'm taking you back home. Now go. Brandon and I will be sleeping there too, upstairs. So don't make a racket when you come in, okay?"

"Shhh. Fran sleep. Kujo quiet."

I laughed. "Yeah, I know. 'Cause you're a total sweet." I leaned in, expecting him to touch my forehead. Instead, his heat wrapped around me.

"Love Fran."

"And I love you, my boy. Go, enjoy your night."

The heat lifted off and the ground vibrated until he got lost in the woods. I spotted Brandon still up there, arms folded on the windowsill, watching us. He smiled down at me and straightened up when I headed to the front door.

"I thought Isaac was high or lying through his teeth," he said, coming down the wet stairs with the LED. "But what he told me was nothing compared to what I just witnessed."

He helped me close shutters and curtains while we talked, because he was brimming with questions. I did my best to explain what I'd gathered from all Amy had told me about Kujo since she'd met him.

"So I was right to get rid of him," he said, as we took on the kitchen and the dining room.

"Yeah. The problem was that your witch was so cruel. She could've severed the link between you two and let Kujo go, or banish him right there and then, like Amy did to your parasites this morning. But leaving him chained like that was totally unnecessary."

"And how come it's— he's so intelligent? You think the parasites I had were as conscious and intelligent? It's an unnerving thought!"

"I don't know. They're conscious, and they read minds and emotions to manipulate them in order to get food. But I don't think they're usually as intelligent. Amy says my way to treat Kujo changed him radically, but I have no idea what that means. Once he knew the Blotters wouldn't let him use me, but I was still willing to help him, he started interacting with me this way, and it improved as he got stronger and we built our trust. I don't know. Amy says he's out of this world, and I agree, but I suspect we don't mean the same."

We lined the chairs against the wall, and Brandon helped me open my sleeping bag under the table. When we straightened up, he took me in his arms with one of his smiles.

"The demon whisperer," he said.

"The fucked-up celeb," I replied, chuckling under my breath.

"About to be your celeb fuck, I hope."

He kissed me till I was out of breath, and wishing oh so bad we were already upstairs. Right then, I couldn't care less this would be only the second time in my whole life that I had intercourse with a man. Any hesitation, any embarrassment, his lips washed it all away. Lucky me, he only broke our kiss to take me to his room.

Forget all that had happened since sunrise, which would make that day unforgettable in its own right. That night was one I won't forget even if I live a thousand years.

Considering his attitude and his fame, I sort of expected he would be bossy and even detached in bed. Well, far, far, far from it. Sweet and warm and gentle, attentive to my every gesture and need, and especially to my wounds, he made love to me in no hurry whatsoever, making me feel I was the most beautiful and desired woman on earth.

No, I ain't giving away any details. I'll leave that up to your dirty minds. But if I had only a silly crush when we first kissed, I was head over heels when we finally went to sleep.

The window opened to the east, and I woke up when the first hint of daylight touched it. Brandon was sound asleep like back at the Manor the day before: half-curled up, facing me, keeping my hand to his chest. It was freezing cold without any heating, and my teeth chattered when I sneaked out of bed and got dressed.

I recalled wearing my sneakers to tiptoe down the wet stairs. The front door was wide open, and I heard a muffled shuffle from under the dining room table. I kneeled down and rested on my hands to look under it.

"Kujo?" I whispered.

"Fran."

"You okay here?"

"Yes, yes. Dark. Nice. Fran bag warm."

"Oh, good. Yeah, it's cold here. I'm gonna leave the front door ajar when we leave, so you can open it easily. Now rest and save your energy. I'll come check on you at sunset, okay?"

"Rest."

"Yes, my boy. Sleep tight."

I was glad everybody was still upstairs when I walked into the kitchen. It was hardly past seven, so I had almost two hours for a necessary conversation with the Blotters over breakfast. The cat ball at the east parlor flashed as soon as I knock quietly on the doorframe, and five minutes later I was setting the tablets on both sides of the kitchen table like back in the good old days. Meaning a week ago.

I made my breakfast and sat to have it while we talked. Of course they were happy and relieved that Kujo was out of the Manor, and didn't have any problem letting him stay at the guesthouse until we took him away. They were too discreet to ask about Brandon, even though I could picture what I'd done was against all their moral principles. However, I tried to touch on the subject without hurting any feelings.

"I don't know what's gonna happen," I said. "I wouldn't be surprised if we never hear of him again after we take Kujo to Pennhurst. Not that I would like it, but that's what I can expect if I'm realistic."

"You would like to be with him," said Edward, fact, not question.

"I couldn't tell. I don't know him. He doesn't know himself right now, after so many years controlled by those things." I sighed. "I think he needs time to find himself again and find out what he wants. And I ain't gonna fool myself believing I can make it to that list."

The backdoor knob turning behind me was enough to make me shut my mouth. Brandon came in with his arms tightly folded over his jacket, shivering, eyes hardly open behind his glasses, messy hair, clearly just out of bed.

"Hey," he greeted me, almost grumpy. "Any chance of getting a hot shower before I freeze to death?"

"Sure. Use my bathroom. Your bag is in my room, towels in the bathroom shelves."

He just nodded and headed out of the kitchen. To stop halfway to the door, retrace his steps and lean in to brush my lips with his.

"Morning," he mumbled, and resumed his way to a hot shower.

I felt my cheeks and ears burn after being kissed in front of all the grownup Blotters, and watched him walk out of the kitchen without a word.

"He still needs to work on his manners," said Ann, and I could but join the gust of faint giggles that swirled around the table.