Page 149 of Cherish

It’s one of the most bizarre experiences I’ve ever had, but I absolutely love it, and I can’t help wondering if she has a small one of these I can borrow to-go.

Once we’re washed up, we sit down at the table, which is set with a mishmash of china with different patterns, an eclectic mix of crystal glasses, and several vases of multicolored flowers that I’m pretty sure came from her garden.

A wave of the Curator’s hand has a selection of breakfast foods appearing on the table—everything from Flint’s muffins to Florentine quiches to a tray of homemade breakfast sandwiches and a giant bowl of fruit so beautiful it looks fake. And, next to where I’m sitting, there’s a box of cherry Pop-Tarts.

When the Curator catches me looking from them to her, she just waggles her brows at me before taking a long sip of what I’m pretty sure is the biggest mimosa I’ve ever seen. Because, apparently, all the gods have a taste for them.

Once we’ve filled our plates and started to eat, she props an elbow on the table and looks at each of us in turn with her fabulous outer-space eyes. Then asks, “So you really think you want to make the journey to the Bittersweet Tree? Because, I’ve got to tell you, Celestials are not to be trifled with.”

“Oh yeah?” Flint asks around a mouthful of muffin. “Why’s that?”

She shoots him a look like he’s just asked the silliest question she’s ever heard. “As a general rule, the greater the power, the greater the destruction and death that surround it.”

“You just had to ask, didn’t you?” Jaxon mutters.

80

Don’t Brunch

Me Off

“I think ‘want’ is a strong word.” Hudson responds to her original question, ignoring the dire warning of death like a champ. “But it’s where we need to go if we have any hope of keeping our end of the bargain with the Shadow Queen.”

The Curator jolts. “Cliassandra wants to try again?” She shakes her head. “I suppose hope springs eternal.”

“Cliassandra?” I repeat. “The Shadow Queen’s name isCliassandra?”

“What were you expecting?” Eden asks, but she sounds surprised, too.

“I don’t know. Medusa, maybe?” Flint chimes in.

“Medusa was a lovely woman. Her reputation was completely unearned,” the Curator says. “Unlike Clio’s.”

“Damned by faint praise,” Heather says dryly.

“Right?” Jaxon agrees with an annoyed shake of his head. “I’d definitely say the Shadow Queen’s reputation is well-deserved.”

Eden reaches for one of Flint’s muffins and gets a dirty look from him in response—which makes her take two. “That woman has some world-class issues.”

“We all have issues. Some of us just choose not to take them out on others,” I say quietly.

I glance at Hudson to see what he thinks of this conversation, but he’s back to frowning down at his phone and whatever text he’s just received. It’s good to be back in our world, but I can’t say I miss the lack of cell service we had in the Shadow Realm. At least there I could pretend—for a little while, anyway—that Hudson doesn’t have a whole slew of issues with the Vampire Court he’s keeping to himself for now.

“So you’ve made a deal with Cliassandra, hmmm? A little Celestial Dew in exchange for the antidote to shadow poison. It’s an intriguing trade, but aren’t you worried you’re about to play with fire here?” She takes another sip of her mimosa. “Which, coincidentally, is the name of quite a good song by the Rolling Stones, now that I think about it. Came out in 1965, I believe.”

“We can’t see another way to help Mekhi,” Hudson answers, looking up from his phone. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

It’s a sincere question, but his gaze is as watchful as hers as he waits to see what she has to say.

The Curator shifts her attention to him, and the two of them lock eyes. I’m not sure if it’s some weird kind of pissing contest or if she’s trying to figure out what’s going on in his head. But when he doesn’t look away, she seems impressed.

Then again, Hudson is a very impressive guy. And I’m not just saying that because we’re mated.

“You’re nothing like the last vampire king,” she says finally.

“Small favors,” he answers with a smirk.

She smirks back. “Favors rarely are.”

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