Page 75 of Obsession

“Let me talk to Florence.”

I call Florence and a man answers. I assume this is the new boy toy in question. “Is Florence there?”

“May I ask who’s calling?” the man asks in a European-sounding accent.

“This is Aubry. May I ask who this is?”

“Florence isn’t taking calls at the moment.”

“Excuse me?”

“Goodbye,” he says and hangs up.

“Oh, hell no. B.B., I’ll be back in a little while.” I give her a scratch and she purrs. “Watch over the shop for me.”

Grabbing my purse, I lock up behind me and make the short drive to Florence’s house. It’s a beautiful old Greek Revival with a meticulously manicured yard. And yes—home to the famous encroaching magnolia tree.

I walk up to the front door and ring the bell. A good-looking man in his early forties answers the door, dressed in an expensive-looking Italian suit and leather loafers. “I want to speak to Florence,” I say by way of greeting.

“She’s not taking visitors. If you’ll leave your name, I’ll tell her you stopped by,” he announces. Definitely the same man I spoke to on the phone.

“I’m Aubry, the woman you hung up on fifteen minutes ago. And what do you mean she’s not taking visitors?” Who the hell does this guy think he is?

“I’ll let her know you stopped by,” he says with a curt nod, closing the door in my face.

Chapter 31

I’m dusting the shelves when the doorbell chimes and in swaggers Chris. “Let’s go,” he commands, turning around and walking out at a brisk pace.

I look over to Aunt Callie who has a questioning look on her face. “Guess I’ll be back later.” I grab my purse and chase Chris out the door.

“I assume I’m driving?” Safe assumption, as he’s opening the passenger side door of my car. My locked car. “Where are we going?” I ask, sliding behind the wheel.

“Azrael has Bettina at my house. Turn left,” he commands and I do as directed. We work our way out of downtown, eventually turning onto a street with small but tidy homes. He guides me to stop in front of a shotgun-style older house. I follow him up the stone path and he unlocks the door.

Entering the sparse living room, I spot Bettina seated on a black leather couch. She’s cuffed in glowing light from Chris’s flaming sword. I know this, having seen that little magic trick once before on the angel Eiael. Azrael is seated across from her, flipping through a home design magazine.

“How does it feel to have your heart ripped out?” Bettina spits at me.

“Oh, no she didn’t,” Azrael interjects.

“I wouldn’t know. I broke your little spell,” I say with a smirk.

“Oh, snap,” Azrael says, snapping his fingers dramatically.

“You’re lying,” she hisses.

“Enough!” Chris’s wings and sword are out, indicating his patience is running low. Well, lower than usual.

“Yes, please, sir,” Azrael mutters under his breath.

“Why did you run from this angel?” Chris nods toward Azrael.

“Just when things were about to get good,” Azrael grumbles. “I want a debriefing. Reconvene at Memphis Vice’s headquarters later this evening.”

“I don’t agree with that group name, and where is headquarters?” I call after him, but he’s already out the door.

Chris gives me an intimidating look and I try my best to match it. Try and fail. He really could give a master class on the whole intimidation factor. He turns his icy gaze back to Bettina. “Why did you run!” Chris thunders, his body glowing with a light so bright I worry he’s caused permanent damage to my retinas. My instinct is to jump behind the couch and hide, but I stand my ground. Barely.

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