Expensive - Amy Bellows Page 0,64

book of poetry I read yesterday from the nightstand and place it underneath my hand. It takes a few moments, but my hand develops a bluish tinge and claws extend from my fingertips.

Timber’s eyes widen. “Does this mean you can…”

“Not yet. But someday, I think.”

I’m not surprised that I’m already able to partially shift with the new books. I’ve changed so much in the last few months. I don’t know if the library I lost in the fire would even appeal to me anymore. It was so old—so dark. I’m ready to move on, and I think my dragon is too.

We can both begin again. I believe that we’ll find our way back to one another. All we need is time.

For now, the hope that we’ll get there is enough.

30

Timber

Sergey’s hair is completely white even though he can’t be a day older than twenty-five. He’s a big man with a thick layer of scruff on his face and bright blue eyes.

I traveled to his forge in Anchorage a month ago for measurements, but Andrew is too close to his due date for me to travel again, so Sergey agreed to come to me this time.

We’re in a forge, but this one is quite different. It’s located in a custom motorcycle shop with over a dozen shiny bikes in various stages of repair parked on the cement. The forge is in the far corner and looks a lot less sophisticated than Sergey’s.

“I probably won’t need to make any adjustments, but a friend let me borrow his forge for this appointment just in case. If I need to make any major changes, I might have to go back to my own forge to make them,” Sergey warns me.

He holds out a plastic box and opens up the lid. Inside is a metal hand the exact same shape as the one I gave up to bond with Andrew. I pick it up and flip it over to look at the gleaming palm.

“I apologize, but we’ll need to do a fitting in both of your forms. Are you comfortable shifting here?”

I nod.

Sergey sets the box on a cement shelf and takes out what looks like a sock. “In some ways, this prosthetic hand functions similarly to others on the market. It will cause agitation if you wear it for long periods of time, and you’ll need to wear a liner. But in many ways, it’s quite different.”

He slides the sock onto my stump, then gently takes the metal hand from me. “The magic bound to this metal is complex. It will respond to your mental commands and allow you to shift without switching prosthetics. There will even be some sensation, although it won’t be the same as your flesh and blood. You’ll find that as you get more comfortable with it, you also can change the shape of your fingers at will. Some of my patients use their hands as bottle openers and screwdrivers. Just keep in mind that magic metal does have its limitations. I wouldn’t use it as a drill or a hammer or anything like that.”

I felt guilty when Andrew suggested a magical prosthetic hand. Polar bear shifters usually only weld them for children. With minor adjustments, they grow with the child and allow them to have a life very similar to other children who haven’t lost a limb. But the group of polar bear shifters who create these limbs need funding. So they sometimes weld limbs for adults who can afford to make large donations to their cause.

This hand cost Andrew forty million dollars.

“So… can I try it on?” I ask.

“Of course. Just slide your stump into the socket, and the magic will recognize you as the owner of the limb.”

This is the part that gives me pause. “Your magic is different than a warlock’s, right?”

He smiles. We may have already discussed this several times.

“Yes. We use song magic, not blood magic. The energy of the magic comes from our bodies, not from a sacrifice. I won’t be requiring you to give me your other hand in exchange if that’s what you’re worried about,” he teases.

I slide my stump into the socket at the bottom of the hand. It’s a little cold at first, and even though I’ve worked hard to deaden the sensitivity of my stump over the last few weeks, the area is still a little tender.

The hand twitches. I concentrate on moving the thumb and it bends.

“Excellent! Now move each of your fingers individually for me, starting