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The overwhelming scent of rotten eggs fills the car, and I groan and cover my nose with my shirt. I glare at Hoot, who couldn’t give two shits about the ass bombs he keeps dropping.
“Tedas ruk shaw aus forin ve Osteomancer. Ise hiruse ou fooiq tork shin iei.”
I don’t know what Rogan Kendrick expected me to do when he violated magical law and bound me to him, but judging by the way he crumbled like a cardboard box, me punching him in the stomach wasn’t it.
“Are you serious?” I demand. “I get magic whammied, and she gets Southern charm?”
I find it easily, warm and strong and coiled around what feels like my essence...my soul.
“I mean, a simple yeet would have sufficed, but boom shaka laka is a solid choice as well.”
Hey, speaking of pictures, Ma wants to know if you want a calendar, coasters, or just a hoodie of Magda and Gwen getting their comeuppance?”
“Probably just some coasters, oh and maybe a fridge magnet or, like, a keychain if she can find them,”
“Didn’t,” I reply as I practically unhinge my jaw and swallow my cup of coffee whole.
“Shove calm up your ass, Siren,” I fling back,
Good thing we left Hoot at the house earlier. That furball would be a windshield pancake otherwise.
“Crap, now I have to figure out how to steal your coffee machine and make it like me, while also relocating this diner across the street from my house. That was so good,” I purr as I sit back and pat my happy food baby.
I have no idea where this intense need is coming from; it’s not rational, but I need a jackalope antler in my life. I just had no idea that I did until now.
“Yep, you caught me, I thought this would be the perfect moment to dazzle you with my hand job skills,” I snark.
Now, to keep them from getting into formation. The starting beats of Beyonce’s “Formation” sound off in my mind, but I don’t have enough time to high-five my weird sense of humor; I need to come up with some kind of plan.
I scan our surroundings watchfully as Rogan goes full lawyer and vocally objects to what’s happening. I’m not sure what good it’s going to do since we’re now officially surrounded and they obviously mean us harm, but what do I know? I personally thought guerrilla warfare was our best bet, but maybe we can talk this out. I roll my eyes at that thought. These people just shoved us off a road and down an embankment at sixty miles an hour. What is he expecting them to do, shout my bad and be on their way?
“If you go straight up Karen and ask to speak to a manager, you’re on your own,”
“Gibson does not twerk.”
I dropkick that marshmallow of a thought as far away as I can. Not today, Satan. Not. Today.
“Okay, mommy is a liar, got it. Is that supposed to change anything for me, Rogan?” I demand incredulously. “Are you suddenly not renounced? I’d love for you to explain it to me, because right now all I can see is a man who showed up in my shop, enslaved me, lied to me, and has now condemned me to a seriously fucked up future.”
If Rogan can’t die, and I’m tethered to him, what the hell does that mean for me?
I realized as we parked outside that I didn’t get the waitress’s name, and I’m not sure if she’ll be working today.
Ah, that’s going to be Nikki.
“I’m coming with her Prek; that’s the deal I arranged with the Order, and you know it.”
