Page 50 of Hopelessly Teavoted
“Tell them I love them.” His voice was muffled by his hands, covering his face as he leaned against the steering wheel. “Tell them their memories are a blessing.”
Benedict nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching in a motion so similar to his son’s.
His parents’ ghosts clutched each other, as though they feared that they, too, could be cursed apart. “We love you, Azrael.” Persephone’s voice was already fading. “You as well, Victoria. And Priscilla. So long as you have each other, you are never really alone.”
The ring turned smoky and then disintegrated, fine ash the last remnant of the protection it once held. The love it symbolized, though, lived on. One didn’t need an object to love fully and well.
“Az,” she began, but he shook his head.
“I need to drive us home. I need to find the strength to move, knowing how mind-blowing it was to touch you, and also knowing that I can never do it again.”
The words were sharp and honest; the pain there left her almost breathless.
Azrael snapped his fingers and the windows cleared of condensation.
Moonlight streamed into the interior of the Packard, a sharp juxtaposition to the heaviness in her soul.
Vickie opened the glove box and found what she was looking for—a pair of expensive-looking leather driving gloves. Thank goddess for Persephone and her glamorous style.
Pulling the gloves on despite the August heat, Vickie slid her covered hand into Azrael’s.
“It doesn’t fix things, but this way I can at least hold your hand.”
Azrael made a choking sound, and his face twisted.
“I would give anything to kiss you right now.”
“I know,” she said softly.
He dragged her gloved hand up to his mouth and pressed his lips against the leather sheathing it.
Tendrils of longing radiated through the fabric from where they touched, but it could be enough.
It would have to be. What other choice did they have?
The rest of the drive was silent, though Vickie held Az’s bare hand in her gloved one the entire time. When he dropped her off at Hopelessly Teavoted, she leaned forward without thinking, and he stilled, frozen, not moving away, even when she only remembered, inches away from his face, that she could never touch her lips to his again.
Vickie had lost her only surefire way to pray, losing the slide of his body against hers in the only religion she knew. Something in her broke.
A shattered glass could not be reassembled.
A curse could not be broken.
And yet here he was, holding still and looking at her, hazel eyes full of love and longing, like he’d kiss her even if he had to burn for it. Even if it was the last thing he ever did. She remembered the terms of the bargain.
There actually was something worse.
Be careful what you touch if you happen to have an object with particular sentimental value.
She had touched the saltshakers, and the ring. And if she touched him again, he would burn.
If shebeheldhim after the terms of her bargain, after October 31, he would die.
Vickie couldn’t allow that.
Her heart remained in the car next to his untouchable lips as she pulled away and spoke clearly so there would be no confusion.
“We can’t be together. Even with gloves. From now on, to avoid sudden death, we are just friends. Business associates.” Vickie looked away, unable to keep contact through the intensity of his gaze.
