Page 59 of Hopelessly Teavoted

“Sorry, she does that a lot. Council business. But I convinced her to hold off on reporting just a little bit longer, so we do this tonight. If the Council finds out about it before we can, they’ll want to isolate and protect anyone involved that could be tempting to the megachurch.

” She looked meaningfully at Vickie. “As a Hart, Azrael is already high profile, but if they connect the dots and realize he’s close to the perp?

They’d isolate him for his own safety. And that would likely take until after the end of the month. ”

Which meant they’d quarantine him until after Halloween. Prissy, too, probably, although she didn’t have any time-sensitive curses riding on her, at least not that Vickie was aware of.

The tension hung heavy in the air.

“I’m closing up at eight. I’ll be by after.” Vickie was trying to speak quietly, but there were few whispers soft enough to evade Hazel’s curiosity.

“Ah, boss, we are never busy Sunday evenings. I’ll close.

You head out at six. I can use the extra cash anyway.

” Hazel butted in, looking all too eager, and Priscilla’s smile curled upward.

“All those romance novels aren’t going to buy themselves,” the girl said, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said.

The house welcomed her more eagerly this time, and she wondered if it could sense that something had shifted.

Azrael’s eyes had circles under them, but he looked happy to see her, as though he, too, knew that something had changed.

“Vickie,” he said. “I think it’s Chet. He’s got no other reason to be going into that church.

I have heard him brag to several other department members about how he’s a deist, like Benjamin Franklin.

Why would he be going into that church otherwise?

The whole time, it’s been Chet. We can go tonight, with Prissy and Evelyn.

Pay off your debt to Lex. You can be free to do whatever you want, or whatever you don’t want. ”

He snapped his fingers, and a pair of cocktails appeared on the end table.

She pressed a hand against the door behind her, smiling at the warmth of it, the relief of finally knowing.

Not just about who the real villain was, but about what she wanted.

“Az,” she said. “That’s wonderful. But I want to talk about us.”

“Over drinks?” He gestured and she took hers, a perfect dark and stormy.

“I have a nice selection of cheese and crackers. Prissy reminded me that it’s not a good idea to have a huge meal before big magic.

” She walked past him to the kitchen, and saw the counter festooned with plates of crackers and charcuterie spreads. She turned to smile at him.

“Azrael Hart, did you make me girl dinner to snack on before we have to go save the town?”

He leaned against the entryway, laughing. “Evelyn said we leave at eight, promptly, and then retired to take what sounded like a very important phone call.”

“That’s plenty of time for us to have the conversation I want to have.”

Azrael’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah?” He walked toward her, leaning against the counter.

Close enough that he could reach out and touch her; far enough not to die from doing so.

“Do you want to fool around and pretend it’s only pretend again, Vickie?

” His voice was a growl. “I told you it’s real for me, but I never mind pretending. ”

She shook her head. Goddess, he smelled so good. Lemon and warm, woodsy echoes. They were so close to being able to do what she wanted.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore, Azrael,” she said. Being careful and moving slowly so he saw what she was doing, she reached a hand toward his sweater. Az froze, his eyes tracking her movement the entire time.

“Vickie.” His voice was strangled now. “Victoria. Do you mean…”

She ran the hand down the sweater, all the way to his belt loops, running a finger across the button of his pants. He sucked in an audible breath, and she stepped back, to make sure she didn’t do anything foolish in the heat of the moment.

“I mean I don’t want to pretend anymore either.

” She felt the emotion of it, welling up in her chest. His eyes were wide, a smile pulling up his cheek.

She had to get the rest of it out. “I choose you. Even after we break the curse, repay my debt, save the world… Even if we don’t have to. I want us. For always.”

Vickie couldn’t hold Azrael’s hand, so she held her own, and he must have understood, because he snapped twice, grinning from ear to ear, and two pairs of gloves appeared on the counter next to the untouched spread. He looked at her, waiting to watch the slow slip of the fabric across her skin.

“It must be true love if you haven’t even touched the cheeses,” he murmured.

“It is,” she said, sliding the glove on and reaching for his hand after he had done the same. He watched her, and his face felt flushed with hunger. She knitted her fingers into his.

“I love you, Azrael. For real, not pretend. We should do it. The sealing spell. The soul binding.”

Azrael squeezed her hand, at a loss for words for a moment.

“Are you sure?” His words sounded reverent, and she couldn’t help but grin.

“More than I’ve ever been about anything,” she said.

“Promise?”

“I swear it on everything I love most. The shop, on Hart Manor, and every breath in my body. I’m yours. I always have been, Azrael.”

“It’s nice to see you here, finally,” he said quietly.

“At your house?”

“No.” He shook his head, and grinned, leaning against the counter, their arms still stretched between them.

“I mean here.” He pressed a hand to his heart.

“Absolutely, hopelessly, and desperately in it. You know, like I have been, with you. I love you, Victoria. Everything I am, and everything I have, is yours. Always.”

He smiled, that same smile, a little crooked, and absolutely heart-shattering in intensity.

It was the same way he’d looked at her in high school when she threw up margaritas in his bed; in college when they’d giggled, knocking knees and elbows against the dorm room wall, too much for one twin bed.

His eyes lit up across tables dancing with magic and across laminate mundane ones too.

It was the same way he’d looked at her in a fancy gown and in sweatpants and writhing on a bench in her shower.

“You’re sure, Vickie.” He said it like a benediction, not a question, but she answered anyway, because she could. Because she wanted to hear herself say it, again, out loud.

“I am,” she said, and she laughed, because it was funny, really, that she’d been so worried about being too clingy, and as a result, had almost ended up clinging to doubt for long enough to miss this.

“What do we need to do next?”

“Don’t worry.” He nibbled on his bottom lip, unable to stop another smile from stretching across his face.

“I started preparing for this moment as soon as I knew it was a possibility. We can take what we need from my mother’s garden, and then we’ll set up the spell.

It takes hours, so we should start it now.

Come on.” He led her, gloved hand in gloved hand, through the house, its floral wallpaper blooming, roses expanding and contracting around them as they hurried down the hallway.

The bearskin rug roared in approval, and Vickie smiled as they stepped out into the conservatory.

Azrael snapped, and fairy lights appeared, threaded through hanging trellises and tinting the room in more than just moonlight.

“Do we have time for all of this?” Above her, the garlands twinkled and swayed, tiny stars dancing in pale greenhouse moonlight.

He winked. “Benedict Hart rule. We always have time for mood setting.”

“He said that?”

“He sure did. Used to embarrass the hell out of me, but I kind of get what he was talking about now.”

He moved from plant to plant, and she followed.

“Lavender, for protection, and because you love it.” She smiled and watched him with the shears, cutting as carefully as Persephone ever had.

“Myrtle, for love.” She held out a gloved hand to hold the sprig as they moved on.

“Sage. We write our names on it with wild honey.” He gestured to a little jar sitting next to the plant.

“You already got the honey.”

“Of course I did, sweetheart.” The nickname struck a chord in her heart that made her wonder if it would be fine not to make it out of the excursion tonight. She could die happy knowing that this moment had existed, when she and Az had finally dropped all pretense between them.

“A few more things here, if you want to meet me in the library with those?”

She nodded, picking up the jar and the other clippings.

“Don’t be too long,” she said. Azrael winked at her, smiling crookedly and making her knees a bit weak before she hurried from the room.

“I’ll be there. And, Vickie, when it’s time, I’ll tell you what’s in my wallet.”

Desire pooled in her stomach, her core clenching. An ill-advised longing, for the soul-binding magic would take time, and it wasn’t like they could really be together until it was done. They had a trip to take, and then, upon their return, a seal to set.

There was a promise in Azrael’s voice, though, a reverence. Yearning.

She had a feeling that his confession would untether her, body and soul.