Page 86 of Magic and Muffins

“Nothing,” he said with a flush as he set her down.

“That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“That’s what she said!” Vena yelled.

“Ah,” I said, understanding.

“That’s what she said next!” Vena dissolved into a fit of laughter, which ended with her wincing and whining to Anchor that her arm hurt. But once he was within reach to soothe her, she pulled him in for some huggles like an octopus.

“Would you like lunch on the couch, or should I pry her off of you?” I asked him.

“Lunch here is fine,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m hungry too,” Vena said. “But you’re going to have to feed me, babe. I broke my pumping arm. Why that arm? I can feed myself with my left, but I can’t get a decent rhythm on you with it. Here, let me show you.”

I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and marched right back to Vena.

Gently, I grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back so she was looking at me upside down as she fumbled with Anchor’s hands, which were defending his zipper.

“Vena Anne Hunter, if you don’t keep your hands to yourself and stop talking dirty to your man in public spaces for the next twenty-four hours, I will call your mother and tell her in very vivid detail what happened to her mummified hand last year.”

Vena stopped struggling. “You wouldn’t.”

“Are you feeling lucky?”

She gave me sad eyes. “No. Not even a little.”

“Good. Then behave, eat your dinner, and go to bed. We have enough trouble without you making more.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said sullenly.

Anchor’s gaze bounced between me and Vena. “What happened to the mummified hand?”

“We don’t talk about the hand,” she said, slapping her hand over his mouth.

I winked at him and went to serve up the food.

Once Vena and Anchor were eating on the couch, I took my plate and let myself into Cross’ study. Someone had spotted Vivian near the old asylum the night of the meeting, which worried Cross. He was on the phone again, talking to one of his contacts to see if he could find any new information regarding Vivian or Orphia.

As soon as I sat in the chair across from his, he thanked whoever he was talking to and hung up.

“Any news?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“And you’re more worried now than if you’d heard nothing.”

He sighed and nodded.

“I’m guessing Vivian knows what happens at those meetings,” I said. “If he’d wanted us himself, he would have made his move before we went inside."

“Which is even more troubling. If he wasn’t there for you, then why was he there?”

“Gathering evidence that what he said in the video was true, maybe?”

Cross nodded but didn’t look convinced. Neither was I. If that had been the case, he would have brought that night up in his video.

Cross’ phone rang again. After checking the number, he answered on speaker.

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