Page 73 of Hopelessly Teavoted
“I once worked with a devil out of a film studio in LA.TheLucifer. Called himself Frankie,” Az said.
“Wait, Az. The allegedkingof the greater devils goes by Frankie?”
“I know, right? But it’s pretty typical for devils to take on names that fit more easily into the current age. The two I am named for, Azazael and Ashmedrea, go by Al and Ashley. Anyway, we need to be careful here. We can’t afford to accuse the wrong person, but whoever we’re dealing with, they managed to trick a greater devil. They’re dangerous.” Azrael’s voice was sharp. Laced with fear.
He was right to be scared. She’d been talking to dead people her entire life, and it scared her.
“We need to know what else your mother had to say. She was telling me about how to stop the person who tricked the devil. She said that even if he tricked Lucifer himself, there would be rules to it, still. We need to know as much about those as we can, and we need to ask your parents about the church in Havenwall. See what else they know.”
“Wait, did she say it was a man? Do we know it was a him? We can’t just assume a name on a hospital visitation sheet is an admission of guilt.”
Vickie snorted. “Even if it’s nothim, it’s always a him. I’m taking a wild guess. For safety, anyone could be our suspect. But until I know otherwise, I’m using ‘him.’?”
She reached for the creepy rope, unspooling the scarf around it carefully.
“I only have this one left, so this is also it, Az. The final goodbye,” she started. She left out the reminder that he was the truefinal goodbye, should she mess up and touch him. No need to say it. They both knew.
“Let me think of what I want to say,” he said.
They drove in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Got it. I’ll talk first, be really quick, I promise, and then you ask about Havenwall.”
She nodded, pushing the rhinestone sunglasses up into her hair.
The rope warmed, and she sensed Benedict and Persephone before she could even see them in the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Benedict and Persephone appeared once more, and this time, before speaking, Benedict wound a hand around the back of Persephone’s neck, kissing her passionately and murmuring words Vickie couldn’t hear, before turning to the front. Even in death, they were truly, madly in love.
Az looked at her, and she nodded.
“Mom. Dad,” he started, and his voice cracked a little.
She watched his lips, trying to focus on the words coming out and not the soft slope of them and the way they had felt against her skin. These were inappropriate thoughts to have while he grieved the loss of his parents. After all, to kiss him would be to send him to an untimely end.
“I wanted to say I am sorry. I wanted to say I love you. There are a thousand things I wanted you to see happen for me: I wanted you to see me be more successful, and find love, and have a family, and be happy, whatever that looked like, and I’m sorry. So, so sorry, for how embarrassed I was of our family. I don’t feel that way anymore. I really don’t.”
Persephone smiled.
“First, Vickie, you must be careful not to overlook whatever objects anchor the devil dealer to not only his power but also his protection. He would have made a sacrifice, probably human, to remain undetected. You’re looking for someone who would have wished to keep him safe in life. Something that did that to someone. And, Azrael, you could never disappoint us. Never,” Persephone said. “We love you so much.And even when we are gone, we will be with you. Your sister already knows the same thing. When you are sad, when you struggle, remember that I have never found a heartache that wasn’t at least somewhat healed by a nice cup of tea and dessert.”
Vickie committed the words to memory as carefully as she could.
Persephone paused, looking between Az and Vickie. “Things were complicated for your father and me at the start too. Love each other. Be happy, darling.”
Vickie choked on the last few words, both on the boldness of Persephone announcing her most secret emotions, the ones that she had been attempting to pretend away, and at the thought that she would now have to recount them.
“What did she say?”
“That she’s always near, even when she’s not right here. That she lives in your heart, and that there is nothing bad enough that a cup of tea and a pastry can’t fix it. I’ll tell you the rest later,” she said, avoiding Persephone’s stern look. “We needed to ask you about Havenwall. We traced the devil dealer to the old, haunted church there. Do you have any idea where we should look? And once we’re back in Hallowcross, does the name Chet Thornington mean anything to you?”
Persephone’s forehead wrinkled, and she frowned.
“I’ve never heard that name. Havenwall is dangerous, though. Don’t bother with the church itself; one never knows what sort of horror you’ll find in one of those. Go to the Rosehill Mausoleum in the graveyard behind it. You’ll need to take an object from a dead Rosehill witch to summon their ghost. Azrael can cast a spell to secure the spot, and to counter the bad luck of grave desecration. Be careful. Whatever evil has traded with the devil probably seeks a witch soul.”
Vickie nodded. The knot in her hands grew warmer.
“Ah. My darling,” grumbled Benedict, his voice thick with emotion as he looked at his wife. “It is our hangman’s knot. From Jan Mydlár.”
“Jan Mydlár?” Vickie asked.
“The Prague Punisher. I’ll tell you about him later.” Azrael’s knuckles gripped the steering wheel so tightly now that they looked white. In her hands, the cord grew more heated. He was right. Time was running out.
