Page 32 of Hopelessly Teavoted
Vickie told herself she was giving him space during the busiest month of the school year, but part of her also needed the time to process the gravity of it all.
So she had insisted on visiting Madam Cleopatra in the hospital on her own, telling the orderlies she was a niece and touching everything she could get her hands on in the room to see if she could rustle up a spirit to talk.
There was nothing, which made sense. Madam Cleopatra wasn’t dead, and hospital rooms didn’t generally hold objects of significance.
All she’d found was a chart that said Connie Witherspoon had no changes since she’d been admitted in July.
Persistent vegetative state , it read, but the cause was still unknown. She’d have to look for leads elsewhere.
When she brought Azrael a basket of muffins, she left them with Priscilla on her day off while he was at school.
She didn’t trust herself not to ask him to pretend with her again, creatively and from a distance this time, and she wanted to think it through without the temptation of his fingers, snapping and so dexterous.
The trill of the phone a week and a half later reverberated through her.
The clock said it was barely still Saturday, and she was bone tired after the day at the shop plus the evening’s preparation for tomorrow.
There was only one person who would be calling her.
And the thought of his lips made her thighs clench.
Remembering that her kiss would kill him sobered her up from her own longing immediately.
He never called, usually. Goddess, she hoped he wasn’t hurt.
It had to be serious for him to call in the middle of the night.
No one was more considerate than Azrael Hart, especially now that he was two weeks into a lifetime of early wake-up alarms.
“What is it? Is someone sick?” Vickie asked. Az couldn’t possibly be expected to withstand much more heartbreak. She’d make her own deal with a devil to avoid any more loss in Azrael’s life. However ill-advised such an arrangement would be.
“No, no one is sick or dead. Priscilla and I are fine, but someone broke into the house. It shouldn’t have been possible to trip the magic alarms, but they were delayed, somehow.
It didn’t wake us up until after. Someone stole some plants from my mom’s garden.
Pretty powerful stuff, things you would use to immobilize people or build dangerously impenetrable wards.
” He stopped, his voice intense enough that she wanted to murder whoever was responsible.
“They painted a giant cross with a circle around it on one of the broken panes of glass. That’s the logo for the Brethren of One Love church.
I think someone there wants us to know they did this. ”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. I swear.”
“Then I need to tell you. Az, I stopped by the hospital to see Madam Cleopatra. It was a dead end, and she was just there, roots growing out a little blond, looking unassuming. There were no objects I could find, no traces of anything. But what if someone knows? That was Wednesday. What if someone did this because I got too nosy?”
“This isn’t your fault. Listen. In witchcraft, and in my mom’s people—well, my people, too—we’re certainly no stranger to this kind of thing. It’s never your fault if a bad person takes issue with a thing you did that you needed to do.”
“Still. I should come over,” Vickie said. She needed to see that he was, in fact, as fine as he claimed.
“It’s late. You don’t have to.” He sighed. “I know I’ve been busy with work, and we haven’t had the space I wanted to talk it out. Later, at another time, I do need to tell you about something Prissy and Evelyn figured out about the curse.”
“Friends don’t let their friends put their fingers in each other’s pants, sustain epic curses, and then just walk alone into danger.
” She said it firmly, ignoring the fact that she had done just that with the hospital.
“And besides. I am thinking about it. A lot. I miss you. I want to be there if you’re in trouble. ”
Vickie heard the sharp intake of his breath on the line.
“Friends. Right. Okay. Evelyn is here too. I think more eyes on what happened here is better, short of involving the Council. And I’ve got my reasons for avoiding them; once they get involved, they’ll cut us out entirely.”
“Understandable. That would make paying my soul debt difficult. Evelyn is fierce, and so is Prissy. But don’t worry, Az, I’ll come over and protect you.”
Az laughed. It was rasping and loud on the line. It wasn’t hurtful, and it wasn’t mean, but it sounded rusty, like it had been too long since someone had made him actually laugh.
She should have called him this week. Or the one before it. Or maybe every day. Maybe she wanted to call him every day from now on, and if she couldn’t, maybe she wanted to pretend that she could.
“Thanks. My knight in glittering hairspray.”
“Don’t you own an actual suit of armor? So theoretically, I could just be a knight in shining armor.”
“Obviously, I do. But it’s my size, so it’s much too tall for you. I can pick you up in about twenty minutes, if that works.”
“Az, have you actually tried it on? And I can drive myself.”
“No comment on the suit. We have a break-in to solve. Let me come get you. This has all been a lot, and driving clears my mind.”
“That sounds like an excuse for you to be a knight in shining armor. How do I know you’re not going to show up in a metal suit, driving a car?”
“Well, for one thing, it would be much too hard to drive in. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Fine. But no armor.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, hanging up before he could hear her cackle at the silliness of it.