“I won’t,” Jason assured him. “No way am I giving up my free meal.”

“All right then.” Falk held out the roll of masking tape to him and Jason took it. For just an instant he expected to see something strange on the surface of the tape—some swirling magical script—but it seemed to be nothing more than mundane beige masking tape.

“What should I do?”

“Just tape me up.”

Falk turned so that Jason could see his bleeding back. Just below his shoulder blade streaks of scarlet blood seeped from a ragged exit wound.

“You don’t have to look at it,” Falk told him. “Close your eyes and just concentrate on the idea of healing. Try to hold the thought while you make a mark on the masking tape with your pen and then slap the tape over the wound.”

“What kind of mark?” Jason frowned at his pen and the tape.

“Doesn’t matter,” Falk replied. “It’s the thought that counts, not the wrapper, if you know what I mean. The faster you do it, the less likely you are to overthink it, though.”

“Right.” Jason responded automatically to Falk’s terse tone. The man was probably in intense pain; Jason could ask questions later. He gripped the tape and pen, closed his eyes, and thought of what healing meant. Smooth skin marred by only the shadow of a long faded scar. Health and well-being. Unbidden, a melody came to him and he wrote the simple notes on the masking tape.

Then he tore off a length and taped it over Falk’s back. He half expected the piece of tape to just fall off. But it adhered instantly to Falk’s flesh. As Jason watched, the inky notes dulled from black to red to the shiny white of scar tissue and the beige strip of tape melted into Falk’s flesh, taking on the color and texture of his skin. Only Jason’s musical notations remained as the faintest scars.

“That’s good.” Falk sounded both surprised and relieved. “Really good. Can you keep going?”

“Yeah…It seems kind of easy actually.”

“Easy…” Falk repeated as if he found it ironic. “Where have you been all my life?”

Jason’s cheeks flushed at the remark. He glanced away before Falk could notice and returned his concentration to the next strip of tape.

He expanded his melody, writing the notes nearly as quickly as they came to him. He laid each new strip next to the last. Soon the wound in Falk’s back was entirely closed. Jason stared at the pale scars and expanse of healthy skin, hardly able to credit that he’d played any part in anything so amazing. Pride swept through him.

“Shall I take care of your chest as well?” Jason offered.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Falk asked. “I don’t want you dropping dead of exhaustion.”

“I’m fine. I actually kind of enjoyed doing it.” Jason stole a glance to Falk’s disbelieving expression. “Is that a weird thing to say?”

“No more weird than closing a bullet hole with masking tape is in the first place,” Falk replied, but then added, “Though it’s pretty damn impressive that you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

Falk turned to face Jason and the regard in his expression made Jason flush slightly. Slowly Falk lifted the white towel away from the gory hole in his chest. The sight of it still unnerved Jason, but he pushed past that. Here was something of real value that he could do, something that made him feel a little more in control.

Already the gentle notes of his healing melody came to him and he wrote them across lengths of masking tape in a flurry. He closed Falk’s chest quickly and then just stared at the new skin.

Falk too stared down at the phrases of tiny notes that lay like pale scars over his chest.

“A song?” Falk asked.

Jason nodded.

“Any tune I’d know?”

“No. It just came to me, when you said that I should think of healing.”

Falk contemplated his chest for a moment more, perhaps attempting to decipher the pattern of scars, and then shrugged. “As long as it’s not ‘Love for Sale’, I think we’re fine.”

Jason smiled. He liked Falk’s dry humor and calm demeanor. Somehow he made even this strange, bloody scene seem reasonable. Then he realized that he was staring and self-consciously lowered his gaze before Falk could take note.

“So what do you need the salt for?” Jason asked.

“Ah yes, that. Add it to the water in the tub,” Falk directed him.

Jason dumped the salt out and watched as the large white crystals melted into the still, red water. Beside him, Falk remained motionless, slowly recovering his natural radiance. Finally, he leaned over the heap of his discarded clothes and dug into a pocket of his trench coat. He cupped something between his hands, plainly hiding it from Jason’s view.

“I have a proposition for you, my girl,” Falk whispered over his own hands.

Jason tried to not to stare, but there wasn’t anything else in the tiny confines of the bathroom that he could even pretend was more interesting. He remembered that just before they’d been accosted Falk had told him that a girl’s heart lay hidden in his pocket. Was that what Falk cradled so gently in his big, scarred hands?

“I can give you a living body, but in return you’ll be bound to my will by my blood.” Falk spoke softly over his hands. His expression was gentle and his deep voice struck Jason as disconcertingly charming.

“It’s your choice,” Falk said, as if responding to a question. He smiled wryly at something and shook his head. “No, not as a princess…Who do you think I am, the gnome king? Nah, you wouldn’t like him anyway, would you?”

“Are you talking to…her ghost?” Jason asked.

Falk glanced to him and gave him a quick nod but then returned his attention his hands.

“A kitty? You’re certain? Sure, I can manage a cat. Easy peasy…” Then Falk looked up at Jason and his eyes shone like blue flames. “She wants to know if you’ll sing her a lullaby. She says she heard you singing to yourself when we were in the shade lands. She likes your voice.”

“Oh that…” Jason resisted his reflexive embarrassment at having been caught doing something so strange as humming to himself when he was terrified—the quiet melody came unbidden in moments of fear. He hardly knew when he was doing it anymore. Compared to the bizarre sights and actions he’d witnessed today, it hardly seemed worth note.

“I’d be happy to sing a song. If you want,” Jason offered.

“A lullaby,” Falk clarified. “That would be great.” His intense blue gaze had already dropped back to his cupped hands.

As Jason sang, “Hush Little Baby”, Falk leaned over the tub and slowly submerged his thick, scarred hands in the bloody water. Something wriggled from between his fingers. Jason fully expected to see a little heart. He’d almost begun to imagine the pink symmetry of a valentine. But the shape beneath the murky water looked leggy and insectile—like a spider but big. The sight gave him a pause. He didn’t like normal house spiders and the thing creeping across the bottom of his tub was nearly the size of one of Falk’s fists.

“Keep singing,” Falk reminded from where he crouched beside the tub.

Jason continued the lullaby, though he watched the shadowy form beneath the red water warily.

Falk stroked his mutilated left hand over the water, producing a series of ripples. Below, the spider’s silhouette broke and distorted. Falk glared down, his expression going hard and commanding. He spat out a rasping low word and Jason saw silver light burst from his lips. The water flashed as if reflecting the light. Then Falk slapped his hand down into the tub.

Waves sloshed and crested as Falk agitated the water further. Strangely, the blood seemed to settle out of the water and Jason realized that he could now see the scarlet shape distorting below the frothing water. What had been a plump ruby spider stretched and twisted like a length of red kelp caught in storm surf. The sharp peaks that Jason had thought were huge mandibles rolled and resolved into two little ears. The legs folded and bent from hard insect angles to supple mammalian limbs. A tail flicked through the water and then a yowling feline head broke the surface.