“Don’t forget,” she said in a mild tone that belied the fury in her narrowed eyes.
“Oh, yeah,” I managed to rasp. “Sorry…??” I offered her as groveling a smile as I could manage.
She hmmfed and released me but only to grab my wrist and snap the cuff around it. “Don’t forget,” she repeated.
I took a shuddering breath as the faint queasiness returned. “I won’t. I’m really sorry.”
Her expression softened, and she laid a hand on my shoulder. “I am not wroth with you. But this is a habit that you must form.”
“I will.” I took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle my stomach. “Thanks for watching out for me.”
She smiled. “It is my pleasure.” And with that she turned and walked off. I watched her until she turned the corner, then I continued on to my car. If I’d ever had any doubts about her ability to be at my side in a split second, they were gone now. Not that I’d ever had any, to be honest.
My demon bodyguard kicked ass. Unfortunately, every now and then that ass was mine.
Chapter 10
I gave the door of Tessa’s house a cursory knock, then entered, a split second ahead of her shout of “Kitchen!” At least that much was normal—or as normal as anything to do with my aunt could be. I paused, slipped the cuff off, and stuffed it into my bag before shedding my coat. My aunt’s pristine white, century-old house was warded to the teeth; I had no fear of being attacked or summoned while in here. Situated in a historical district on the lakefront, Tessa kept her house in exquisite condition, with carefully maintained landscaping, eggshell-blue gingerbread molding along the porch, and a set of white rockers that, unlike mine, had actually been taken out of the boxes they came in and assembled. The inside of her house was just as lovely—brilliant hardwood floors, crown molding, and flowered wallpaper in a subtle pattern of rose and gold. Not that she ever let anyone inside to see it whom she didn’t trust completely. Even the “Welcome” sign on the door was a standing joke, at least in my opinion. The aversions were such that only someone who was welcome—or seriously determined—would ever get close enough to the house to see it.
Continuing on down the hallway, I entered the kitchen to see Tessa and Carl sitting at the table playing some sort of card game. Staying true to her incredibly eclectic and weird sense of style, she had on a thigh-length black sweater dress embroidered in gold spider webs, with gold lamé leggings underneath that and knee-high boots—with what had to be five-inch heels. Her wild, kinky blond hair was pulled back from her face by a white scarf. As usual, it totally worked on her. It helped that she was a tiny little thing without a spare ounce of fat on her body.
Tessa gave me a cheery smile, then returned her attention to the richly colored cards displayed in front of her and in her hand. “There’s hot water in the kettle if you want tea,” she informed me.
“I’m good, thanks,” I said, pulling myself onto a stool at the counter. “Are those tarot cards?”
Tessa let out a bright peal of laughter. “Oh, heavens, no. Nothing that silly. We’re playing ‘Magic, The Gathering.’?”
After umpteen years of living with my aunt, somehow she still managed to confuse and surprise me. “Um. Okay. That’s like ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ or something, right?”
She shook her head, then shrugged. “Not quite the same thing. This is a complex trading card game simulating battles between fantasy armies, complete with dragons, angels, elves, goblins, and magic.”
“Ah