Page 33 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
To no avail. “Think better of yourself,” he growls.
I balk at that. “I thinkgreatlyof myself, thanks.”
“Then think better of them.”
“You havenoidea what I think.”
No, Georgina? Because here I am in your thoughts.
You’re an impossible asshole, do you know that?I shoot right back at him on this channel we shouldn’t have open between us.
But before he can answer that, I turn away.
Dramatically, I can admit.
And I pay for it, because I nearly smack right into the horrible duo of Carol Simon and Maeve Mather, two of the Joywood’smost powerful and exceptionally vile witches.
10
“Georgie.” Carol’s voice, as always, makes my skin crawl. Particularly because she always smiles in that creepy way of hers.It’s almost as unnerving as Maeve’s bedraggled familiar, a moth-eaten-looking blind pigeon she carries around with her ina panda-shaped purse. “You’re back early from your travels.”
I try to recalibrate. Quickly. Let my emotions go, or at least hide them while I play up the ditzy smile. I know it’s theonly thing theysee—and really, I prefer not to be noticed by any members of the Joywood. It’s safer that way.
“I came back for Thanksgiving,” I say dreamily, as if the holiday itself called me, personally, from across the ocean. “WasI supposed to stay away until the actual Cold Moon rises?”
I laugh merrily at that, though as I say it, I wonder. Did they plan to keep me away all this time? No one else had to gooff on a quest, just me. Is this part of some new, horrible Joywood plot?
Or am I just trying to make myself feel better because that might make me a special target like the rest of my friends?You need to get over the idea that you are somehow special, I can hear my mother say.
Inside I feel nothing but a roiling sense ofick. And not just because of my train of thought or the fact of these two awful women standing right in front of me.
“I’m not surprised a Historian like you would be so quick,” Carol says, and anyone around us would believe she’s being kindand genuine, but I know better. “You always were a smart one, weren’t you?”
I ambeyondcreeped out. The last time I saw these people, they literally disappeared with a bang after assuring every voting witch theywould see what a mistake they’d made in choosing the Riverwood over the Joywood.
“One of the smartest,” a smooth British accent says from behind me. And then Azrael’s arm is around my waist, pulling me tohim. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends, babes?”
I have to put every last ounce of energy to work to keep from pulling a face or shoving his arm off me. Why is hepurposefullyengaging with the Joywood? Does he want us all to die?
And why did he call mebabes, of all things?
I make myself smile, though it’s hard. “Carol. Maeve. This is my... friend. Peter. We met in England.”
He beams at them, then at me. “Once she described the beauty and charm of St. Cyprian, I couldn’t resist following her home.”I feel his eyes on me, and wonder how no one sees that dangerous thread of gold all butseethingin his gaze. But he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds besotted. “Or maybe that was just... her.”
Carol studies Azrael with a frown. I notice that her trademark frizzy hair is looking a little more healthy and wavy whilebeside her, Maeve is standing there open-mouthed, and it appears she’s missing a few teeth. She’s gazing at Azrael like shecan’t believe her eyes, and I think she’s figured it out—
But she hasn’t. “Ahuman?” she whispers to Carol, but not quietly enough for us to miss it.
Azrael cocks his head. “Were you expecting a werewolf?”
Maeve blinks, and Carol’s expression grows tight. But only for a moment. Then she smiles, right atPeter.
“Welcome to St. Cyprian, Peter. I hope we’ll see you at the Cold Moon Ball.” She glances at me and delivers one of her pointedsniffs. “Georgie always likes to bring her little friends to our events.”
If he’s offended bylittle friendor thealways—I think Carol is trying to say I’m a bed-hopping slut, as if that would offend me or him—Azrael doesn’t show it. He justkeeps beaming like he’s a ray of British sunshine, and his arm around my waist tightens.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
