Page 25 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
Sarah Michelle coughed into her hand, the sound doing a poor job of disguising a laugh.
“And anyway,” Andromeda continued, “Pastel locks are sointhis season.Super on-trend.Very… what would you call it, Shelly?Gen Z?”
“I—” Sarah Michelle started and stopped.“Nuh-uh, I’m not touching this.”
“She’s your roommate,” Malatesta protested.
“Can’t fight your own battles, detective?”
His dark eyes, even more intensely brown against the lilac of his hair, narrowed.
“I fight my battles above board.I don’t use tricks.But you know what?”he said, voice deceptively calm.“This is what I expected from someone who thinks cursing someone’s computer is an appropriate response to professional disputes.At least now I know what kind of witch I’m dealing with.”
“And what kind is that?”Andromeda asked, genuinely curious.
“The kind who never learned that actions have consequences.”He jammed the beanie back over his head, tucking in the stray lilac strands with furious precision.“I’ll wait for you in the car.Move your ass.”
With that parting shot, he turned on his heel and stalked out, the sound of the front door slamming behind him echoed through the house.
“So rude,” Andromeda commented, draining the last of her coffee and setting the mug in the sink.“You’d think someone with such a pretty hair color would have a sunnier disposition.”
Sarah Michelle covered her face with one hand and shook her head, but her shoulders were shaking with laughter.“You’ll get thrown in jail,” she said between muffled snorts.“And I won’t visit you because you’ll have deserved it.”
“Please, he’ll get over it.”
“He’s going to murder you in the car.”
“He’s welcome to try.”Her voice didn’t betray the uncertainty inside her.“I’ll make his eyebrows match.”
Andromeda ducked into the hallway to grab her coat and allowed herself the full-body laugh she’d been suppressing since Malatesta had ripped off his beanie.She pressed her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound, shoulders shaking with the effort.
When the laughter subsided, she checked her reflection in the console mirror and composed her features into a serious expression.She had to at least keep up the facade enough to irritate the hex out of Detective Lilac-and-Livid, who, pastel hair or not, remained criminally, inconveniently hot.
Chapter Eleven
Bad Hair Day
DONATELLO
He wouldn’t talk to the witch.Donatello was mad at her.She’d cursed him.He’d sit in his car and sulk under his beanie for the entire drive.Even if traffic crawled at a troll’s pace.
“So what got you into hacking?”
Curse the ley lines, he was weaker than a half-drowned pixie fledgling.
Andromeda’s head snapped toward him, surprise flashing across her face before an infuriating smirk tugged at her lips.She’d probably expected his silent treatment to last longer than a coffee break.But his curiosity was stronger than his pride.
“I thought we weren’t speaking,” she said, eyes gleaming with triumph.“You know, because of your makeover.”
Donatello’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.“That you caused.”
“I’ve told you already, detective.No evidence I did anything to your…”—she waved a hand at his beanie—“lush locks.”
“You touched my shoulder yesterday, and my entire scalp chilled over like it had been dunked in liquid nitrogen.”
“Maybe you’re developing male alopecia?”
He shot her a withering look.“My hairline is perfect.”
