Page 14 of Hopelessly Teavoted

“Of course. I’d be happy to help you say goodbye.” Vickie would do it for his parents’ sake alone, and in penance for the inappropriate attention she’d paid to that stubbled jawline that a raw, impulsive part of her begged to sit on. The offense of six years ago notwithstanding.

“I wanted to try to find some way to wrap my mind around it before school starts.” He paused, shutting his eyes and rubbing his left arm with his right before he opened them.

“Sometimes it feels like my heart is actually breaking. Did you know grief can do that? Cause actual chest pain? I went and got it checked and everything.”

“Oh, Az,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. I know they would be so proud of you, and this new job.”

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled in a way that she tried to ignore. This wasn’t the moment to lose her mind over how good he looked a little bit messy.

“I start in two weeks. It feels like both an eternity and not enough time.”

“I get that,” she said, rubbing a hand over her own heart for a moment. “Tell me what you need.”

He nodded and swallowed, twisting a ring on his pinky that she recognized now. It was silver, and engraved with thorns, moons, and roses.

It had been his mother’s.

“I have this.” Az’s voice cracked. He wouldn’t want to part with the gift his father had given his mother in love. Maybe the last thing that he had.

“No,” she said firmly. “There must be objects around the apartment we can use before it comes to that. Is there a special gift that Benedict gave her? An heirloom they would have shared?”

Az swallowed, and his mouth tensed. “Sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to rub salt in the wound. I just know how much your parents meant to each other, and it’s a pretty safe bet that there’s something else.”

His brownish eyes lit up, and she studied the greenish speckles around the edges.

It was as though his father’s gold and his mother’s brown had fought and each had won out, in their own ways.

It was just like his parents. Passionate.

Together. Wonderfully odd. She saw so much of Benedict and Persephone in him.

So much of what she had once thought would be her true home.

“Salt and pepper shakers. She collected salt and pepper shakers. He bought her a little skull and raven set with an Edgar Allan Poe quote.” He smiled and rubbed at the crook of his left elbow.

There was a small raven tattooed there that she hadn’t noticed before.

The ink was crisp and fresh, either recent or well moisturized.

Possibly both. “They were gray and black, a few inches tall. Damn, my parents were weird, but they loved each other so hard.” He paused. “I miss them,” he admitted.

Friends could hold hands in grief. She threaded hers through his again and squeezed, ignoring the tingling sensation of touching him.

Vickie’s fingers had more ideas than just hand-holding, though, and her other hand moved to trace the little bird.

“Is this new?”

“Yeah,” he said. His voice was quiet. Thick. “I got it right after they died. When I couldn’t go. I wanted a way to remember them.”

“It’s perfect,” she said, forcing her hand away from his inked skin.

It was totally inappropriate to feel all sorts of tempting sensations for her friend while he described the depths of his grief.

The winding of longing thrumming through her veins was as unyielding as her pulse.

Goddess, she was an asshole. She needed to focus.

“Think she would have stored them upstairs in the apartment?” Vickie couldn’t bring herself to release the hand that held his, but she did step back, putting distance between them. For safety.

“Probably, yes. Is it empty?” His eyes clouded with emotion. Grief, probably.

“No. I haven’t had a chance to clean it out; I just kind of put everything in the den to clear out the bedroom.”

His mouth ticked up into a smile. “You’ve been living in the teeny upstairs apartment? The heiress to the Starnberger fortune in a one-bedroom walk-up with creaky floorboards and a leaky shower?”

She smiled, forced now.

“Hey. The leak is fixed now, thanks to a bit of clever home improvement magic by your sister. Also, I’m a former heiress. My parents cut me off, remember?”

He squeezed her hand before dropping it and nodding in the direction of the door.

“Priscilla made you go to Free Spirits, did she? The one with a dress code?”

Vickie smiled. “I made her meet me at Kessel Run, that Star Wars bar, last week to make up for it. I introduced her to the nachos there, and the best table in the back corner. It’s my favorite.”

Azrael smiled wide now, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes made her shoulders relax again until he frowned.

“I’ve been meaning to check that one out.” He cleared his throat. “About your parents. Sorry. That’s fucked up. You deserve better.” He paused, and then continued, softer. “You’ve always deserved better than them, Vickie.”

Shrugging, she studied his face. He looked earnest.

“It’s fine. They’re selfish. They never wanted me to cling too tightly. It was just a matter of time before I crossed their lines.”

He bit his lip.

“If you don’t mind, and if it’s not too much to ask, when you look around, see if you can find the shakers.” His voice was all gentle apology rubbing against her, and the traitorous veins in her wrists pulsed for him, achy with memory. She swallowed.

“Sure,” she said, uncertain about whether she’d cleaned up the banner of hanging underwear that wasn’t supposed to go into the dryer.

She could make sure he didn’t go into the bedroom. How hard could that be, really?

He looked at his watch. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Maybe text me if you can find them, and that will give me some time to think about what I want to say to my parents.”

Her heart dropped. Azrael Hart didn’t want to go upstairs.

There was too much between them. They had too much history and too much baggage, but they could be friends.

She could pretend the flame was extinguished, that he didn’t make her want to cradle his head in her hands, run her fingers through his messy hair.

“Sure, Az. I’ll look for them.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It means a lot. What did you need to tell me about ghosts?”

“It’s no big deal. Your sister has Evelyn looking into it, but one of them mentioned that new megachurch.”

He frowned. “If Evelyn’s already on it…” He trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. “Let’s see what happens before we interfere with Council affairs.” She nodded, and he went on. “Thanks again for looking for the shakers.”

She avoided his eyes. “It’s what friends do, Azrael.”

“Friends. Right.” A muscle in his jaw twitched, and for a moment she thought he was going to say something else. “Good night, Vickie. Enjoy that last week of twenty-five.”

Vickie swallowed. Of course he remembered her birthday. Of course.

She spent the better part of the next hour scouring her apartment for the salt and pepper shakers, and by the time she found them, wrapped carefully in a box in the closet of the spare bedroom, it was late enough that she thought twice about texting him.

Before she could think better of it, she snapped a picture, careful not to touch them, and sent it to him.

Vickie: These have to be the ones. Think they’ll work?

Bubbles popped up right away, and she smiled, awaiting his response.

The bubbles disappeared. She waited a moment before tossing the phone on the couch and scowling.

Purple smoke drifted from under her kitchen counter, rising upward until Lex appeared.

“Is this all really necessary?” She gestured to the smoke.

“Not at all, but it’s just so pretty, don’t you think?”

He wasn’t wrong, but he was awfully dramatic. Dramatic and arrogant and the opposite of Azrael. Which piqued her curiosity, if she was honest.

She smiled, and stepped toward him, watching his violet eyes dance with amusement. Lex towered over her, wearing a fitted suit that looked like it cost more than the entirety of her new apartment.

“It is pretty,” she said, poking a finger through a remaining wisp of it. “But it doesn’t feel like anything.”

“Would you like it to feel like something?” His smile was crooked, and he stepped toward her.

What she would like is for Azrael to have come up to the apartment himself. Or not to have left her on read. But what she had was a handsome devil. Who was she to be choosy?

“Maybe.” Vickie crossed over to the countertop, casually closing the box with the salt and pepper shakers. She wasn’t entirely sure that Lex was trustworthy, and Azrael might be just her friend, but that didn’t mean she wanted Lex or anything else to get in the way of what Az needed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing the opposite of that?” He chuckled and gestured to her repacked box.

“Don’t worry about it.” She shoved the box to the back of her countertop. “What brings you here with no notice?”

“Just a list, pet. A list of souls.” Lex flicked a finger lazily, sending more of that purple smoke into the air.

Vickie tensed. “You brought me a hit list.”

“Now, now. These folks are already dead. And to be clear, they’re dreadful people. It’s angelic, really, that I’ve identified them for this. It will make the world a bit better, not having them.”

She crossed her arms.

“How can I be sure of that?”

“I’ll walk you through it. Here, the first one.

In life, he lobbied for less gun control.

Part of the group that prevents digital records of any gun ownership so that it’s hard to cross-check when people have a history of violence or some other good reason not to have a weapon of human body destruction. ”

Uncrossing her arms, she nodded. “Okay, yes, I can get behind that.”

Lex ran a hand along her countertop, and then rolled up the sleeves of his suit jacket, casually, as though he knew exactly what his muscular forearms did to people.

She tried not to notice too much, but she only saw the dead; she wasn’t dead herself. And damn, those forearms.

“Shall I go on?” He smirked, watching her closely.

“Yes,” she said.

“The next soul is a woman who runs a drug ring. A witch, but not a good one. You’ll know as soon as you meet her spirit, I’d warrant.

She’ll feel off ; it’s the repercussion of a lifetime using magic for evil.

She’s responsible for many terrible things.

Nothing plant-based or harmless, either: she’s about the big-league drugs. The kinds that beget assault.”

Vickie frowned, and he did too. “See, pet? I’m not a monster, unless you count being a monstrously good lover.” He winked.

“The third soul?”

“To be determined.” His brow creased. “I can’t put my finger on who yet, but there’s someone meddling in Hallowcross, someone I don’t know, but I’ll know them when I smell them.

” He frowned. “I’ll substitute someone else if we can’t find out who in time.

It’s someone tricky. Someone who’s bargained with a creature stronger than me, if you can believe it.

They’re shielded. But there have been signs.

” He grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, dearest. I’ll find them. ”

She ignored the sharpening of his smile, and the way it made the hairs on her arms rise. “Signs? How can you not know?”

“Talk to your witch friends. They’re investigating. There have been magical disturbances. And it’s not my deal, so I can’t track it the way whoever is behind it could. But I will, and you’ll help me, because the alternative is too awful.”

Vickie swallowed. “What’s the alternative?”

“Well, you could renew your contract with me.” She frowned at that.

“Fine, fine,” he continued. “We can find a different soul to reap if we must. But I don’t like to reap who we don’t have to reap.

Your gift, when used for good, sends a spirit to its final plane of existence.

Reaping is only for special occasions. Souls who deserve torture or terrible accidents. ”

“Accidents?”

He grinned. “They do happen. Still, don’t worry. This is why I don’t make bargains like the one I made with your parents more than once a century. You’re my only girl with death powers.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Lex stepped closer. “I most certainly do not. But I can arrange for other types of deals, with less… permanent bonding. Or other types of bonds, if you’re interested.”

She bit her lip. She wasn’t not interested.

“What types of deals would those be?”

He smirked, violet eyes flaring.

“Why don’t we start with telling me what you can imagine?”

It was normal to imagine it, and she was free to tie herself, figuratively or literally, to anyone, and yet, she wasn’t ready to close the door on the man who still haunted her, years later. Maybe later, but not yet.

“What I imagine is you getting back to business, me repaying my debt, and you moving on to torture the next unsuspecting mortal.” She said it as firmly as she could, and Lex pouted.

For a moment, hurt flickered across his face, but he shook his head.

“You think on that, pet. It doesn’t make a difference to me.” His voice was cool, but there was an edge to it. “I can’t say I get many rejections, though, in the end.” It was downright icy now.

She crossed her arms. “A little rejection will be good for you, then. Something new and exciting.” She smiled, leaning toward him ever so slightly before catching it and correcting her posture.

He cocked his head for a moment, narrowing his eyes and nodding. “I’ll be back when it’s time to collect.” He ran a finger down the side of her cheek, then disappeared into a cloud of the same purple smoke, leaving behind a trail of dark glitter and the faint scent of bergamot and ginger.