Page 39 of Hopelessly Teavoted
His eyebrows shot up. “Victoria, if you wanted to play kinky, all you had to do was ask. But no, not right now, we are not. She’llbe out of our way while we get what we came for.” He winked. “We can talk about any particular multiplayer bath fantasies you might have later.”
Azrael muttered words under his breath that she didn’t catch.
“What was that, Hart?”
“Let’s just fucking do this,” he said, voice clipped and strained.
She cleared her throat. The interaction felt sexy, but uncomfortably empty.
“What does he value the most?” She looked around the sparse apartment, peppered with mirrors and decorated almost entirely in spotless white, from the carpets to the sofa to the walls.
“It’s a limited-edition Genesis vinyl.”
“Is that—”
“Yes. He doesn’t listen to it. Just for show.”
“The cliché and the satire of it all lost on him, then?”
“Vickie, darling, men who profit off annihilating other humans are almost always immune to critique. Now let’s reap this soul and get out of here before his newest model finishes getting off in the bathtub and realizes she’s let three strangers into her house.”
Victoria hated the idea of even touching anything that monster had, but there was no way she was letting this slime bag escape, even in death. The bedroom was done in modern linens, a wall of windows, two walls of mirrors, and no other art besides the record. She punched into it. Lex cleared his throat and Azrael snapped, and the glass vanished without puncturing her hand.
She wasn’t sure which of them had done it, and she didn’t have the time to sort out which one she wanted to have done it at the moment. “Ready?” Her heart was pounding.
“When you are, pet.”
“Just tell me what you need,” said Azrael softly. Lex glared at him, and she ignored it.
Vickie touched the record with both hands, and asquare-jawed man in a suit with thin-rimmed glasses appeared. Gray hair sat limply atop a weak forehead and a face twisted into a grimace that was either an awful attempt at a smile or some sort of intestinal problems. She was fairly certain ghosts didn’t get those, so it was most likely the former.
“Donovan,” she said.
“Actually, it’s Mr.—” His arrogance told her he realized his predicament at once.
“I don’t give any fucks what you’d like to be called.”
The ghost sniffed. “Well, if you’re going to be one of those terrible woke snowflakes about it, I’ll be going, then.” He fisted his hands and concentrated. “Fuck you and your feelings.”
Now he looked even more constipated, but he didn’t go anywhere.
“Exactly what is your problem, young lady? And why the devil can’t I portal out of here? It’s the best part of being dead. Finally, the control I so deserve.”
“Ah, Donny, tsk tsk tsk.” Lex stepped forward, and the shade paled, which was impressive for a person who was already only a transparent shadow of a being.
Azrael looked around, confused, as he realized he was the only one who could not see the ghosts.
“You,” spat the man, pointing. “You can’t take me. I have things to do. Unfinished business. You know the rules.” Vickie felt cold. Why was it that evil held so much control, even in the afterlife? The shade continued. “You have no power to destroy any object that anchors a soul to this world. I figured that out quick enough, you dumb fucking devil.”
“Ah yes, do enjoy that satisfaction. You caught me there.” Lex’s smile was lazy and slow, and Vickie thought that Donovan Wagner was far too confident in his hand here.
“Unfortunately, my dear Donny,sheis not so inconveniently limited.”
Vickie smiled at him, hoping it came off as cruel as he had been in life. It had only been two minutes. “Should I give him his remaining time?”
“No need, pet. Go ahead and immolate him.”
She smiled and held the record in both hands. Concentrating, she willed the flame to build faster than the usual five minutes.
