“My bad,” Gideon said.
“I should say so,” she shot back.
He raised a brow. “I did say so.”
Candy Vargo prepared to flip the Grim Reaper the bird, but then, in a bizarrely shocking turn of events—literally—she electrocuted her own hand before her middle finger fully extended.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I asked as she slapped out the flames. Candy was strange, but her behavior right now was flat-out abnormal. Flipping the bird was a sign of affection as far as she was concerned.
Candy paled considerably and my gut tightened. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, clearly lying.
“Did another message come in from the Higher Power?” Gideon ground out.
“No. I woulda led with that, idiot,” she told Gideon with another eye roll that beat the first. She stared at both of us like we’d gone and lost it.
Granted, I was close but I still had a few wits about me left.
“Well, you walking in here saying that we had to talk while refraining from even using one f-bomb set my radar off,” I told her. “It’s been kinda crazy lately. You feel me?”
Candy chuckled and popped a few toothpicks into her mouth. “I’ll leave the feelin’ up to Gideon—if you know what I mean. And the chat I wanna have ain’t nothin’ life threatenin’—at least not right now,” she promised as she offered Gideon and me a pick.
We declined.
The three of us stood in awkward silence and stared at each other. Alana Catherine babbled happily in Gideon’s arms. Candy Vargo was rarely at a loss for words—especially four-letter ones. Her hushed behavior was unnerving.
“Umm… Candy,” I said with some trepidation. “Would you like to get to the reason you came up here?” I only wanted good surprises for the rest of the day. I’d had too many terrible ones to count recently.
She groaned as she crossed the room and flopped downonto the armchair next to the bed. The woman was the hottest mess around. Her sweats had seen better days. Her socks were mismatched and her tennis shoes should have been tossed into the garbage in the 1980s. The Keeper of Fate was actually a very pretty woman, but she unconsciously did her very best to disguise it.
“Alrighty,” she said as her chin dropped to her chest. “We got lots goin’ on right now. My issue ain’t at the top of nobody’s list, but I need some help.”
Gideon shot me an alarmed glance. I shot it right back. Candy Vargo was the OG of badasses. Her power and knowledge were unparalleled. Her name alone could strike fear in any Immortal. I was hella glad she was on my team. Her needing help with anything seemed odd. I mean, maybe with fashion, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t why she was here.
“Candy,” I said, treading warily. There was no telling what would come out of her mouth. “How can we help you?”
Her spitting the toothpicks out of her mouth and onto the carpet made me wince. When she reached down and picked up the saliva-covered pieces of wood, I was relieved. However, when she put them back into her mouth, it was all I could do not to gag.
“I’m feelin’ real bad,” she finally said. “Like really, really, really bad.”
“You’re sick?” I asked. As far as I knew, Immortals didn’t get ill.
She wrinkled her nose then blessed us with the third massive eye roll of the conversation. “Don’t get sick.”
I was thrown that not one potty word had left her mouth. This wasn’t typical for her. My body felt like a tightly coiled spring about to pop. Candy with a clean vocab wasfreaking ominous.
“Okay, then what?” I asked.
She blew out a long slow breath while not losing one single toothpick in her mouth. It was impressive. “I’m kinda feelin’ like a ham sandwich somebody left on the dashboard in July. Or like somebody beat my rump with a sack full of nickels. Useless… like the G in lasagna. You know what I mean?”
Shockingly, I did. “I do. But I don’t know why you do.”
“Guilt,” she announced. “Feelin’ guilty as all get out. It’s eatin’ me alive.”
I glanced over at Gideon. He just shrugged and shook his head. This conversation was like pulling teeth. “Why?”
“It’s Gram,” Candy said, sounding despondent. “That mouth on her is like a dang septic tank that ain’t been cleaned in a century.” The nutty woman marched around the room, punched herself in the head twice then spanked her own bottom. The kicker was when she stomped over to the bathroom and returned with a half a bar of soap in her mouth then plopped back down into the chair. We watched in horror as she chewed the soap, swallowed and then burped loudly. The only one who thought it was funny was Alana Catherine who tried to imitate Candy with moderate success. I was just relieved she hadn’t lost her cookies.
Of course, Candy Vargo was now looking a little green around the gills… and she wasn’t done.