Page 42 of Hopelessly Teavoted
The elevator dinged, and she didn’t look up, hopeful that its occupant would keep walking and leave her to cry pathetically in Azrael’s arms.
“Hey.” The voice was gentle. Familiar, and then, more accusatory, “Azrael Ashmedai Hart, why the fuck is your girlfriend crying on the floor of my girlfriend’s apartment building?”
“She’s not—” Az began, at the same time as Vickie blurted, “It’s not like that.”
Priscilla glared at them, raven-colored hair braided loosely to one side, her fingers intertwined with Evelyn’s.
“Hi,” Vickie said, hating how small her voice sounded.
“It’s been a rough night, Prissy,” said Azrael, running a hand down his face. “Evelyn, good to see you, always.”
“I’m Vickie,” she said, holding up her hand in a weak wave. “Don’t let my awkward crying in your hallway fool you. It’s very nice to meet you.”
“It’s good to meet you too. I was sorry to miss last week at yourStar Trekbar.” Her voice trailed off uncertainly, so Vickie coughed but didn’t correct her. Evelyn’s eyebrows knit together. “Something came up at work; I’ve been filling in for the Witchery Council president after taking some time off from the European Council to do research in New Haven.”
“Evie, perhaps now is not the best time to give them your entire résumé,” said Priscilla, and the sharp undertone of her voice was not lost on Vickie. She fixed her gaze on Azrael. “If you’ve done something dreadful, I don’t care if you’re my own brother, hell hath no fury like the pranks I will unleash upon you. You better sleep with one eye open, and dream of needles. Big needles.”
“Fuck,” Azrael muttered, and Vickie shook her head.
“It’s not really his fault.” She regretted the qualifier immediately at the sight of her friend’s face. Still, it was reassuring,knowing that acerbic, highly powerful Priscilla Hart was on her side.
“My apologies, Vickie. Would you like to come inside?” She glared at Azrael. “Not you, not if you’re the source of her discomfort.” Evelyn rooted around in her bag, pulling out a set of keys.
“That’s not quite—” he started, but his sister interrupted.
“Vickie? Are you okay?” Priscilla leaned down to look her in the face.
Shit. There would be no good way to hide that she had been crying. And the gravedirt made it impossible to lie. They had to get out of here.
“Yeah, this isn’t what it looks like,” she started. “It’snotAzrael, but it’s also not something I can discuss in a public space.”
“Oh, good. I thought maybe Azrael was doing that shitty thing where he waffles back and forth about telling you he has feelings for you again,” she said.
Azrael’s eyebrows shot up, horrified.
“Listen,” said Evelyn, sticking out her hand and helping Vickie up. Next to her, Az dusted himself off and got up while Priscilla glared, arms crossed, as though she didn’t quite believe that he wasn’t the cause of the tears. “I live just down the hall.” Evelyn’s clipped British accent was comforting. “Priscilla and I would be delighted if you came in and joined us for a moment.” She hesitated, looking at Az. “You, too, I suppose.”
“Perhaps some tea? I know you like tea,” Priscilla added.
Vickie looked at Priscilla. For once, she didn’t appear to be orchestrating any sort of romantic setup.
“I don’t want to intrude, but I do have a favor to ask,” she said, trying to collect herself. “We are stuck without a ride. It’s a long story.”
Priscilla dug in her purse, sighing. “Take the Packard. Evie can drop me tomorrow. But, Azrael, you have some explaining to do, and Vickie, hexing him is not off the table if I’m not pleased with his explanation, or if you ever just would like me to, on a whim or anything.” Priscilla handed Azrael the keys.
“Great. Thank you,” said Az, shoving a hand through his curls, which stuck up ridiculously. “We need to pay a visit to Hallowcross’s resident fake psychic. Dad, uh, mentioned her to Vickie.”
Looking at Vickie, Priscilla said, with a twinge of sadness, “You spoke with Dad?”
“Um,” said Vickie, but the gravedirt had other plans.
Azrael cut in. “Yes, we did.”
Priscilla scowled at her brother. “You contacted Dad withoutme?”
Vickie lowered her gaze. She hadn’t thought of it, but maybe they should have invited her.
“Sorry,” Azrael offered, “I didn’t realize.”
