Page 109 of Hunters and Hydrangeas

I’m about to tell her contaminants won’t bother me, but Cassian is currently in the hospital with the flu, so I’m feeling less confident. “I won’t.”

“Oh my word.” It sounds like she’s groaning into her hand. “Max was supposed to be the difficult one—not you. You’re my garden girl, my little hobbit who likes quiet things. You’re not supposed to go on sudden adventures!”

“Did you just call me a hobbit?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Technically, several hobbits went on adventures…”

“Piper.”

“I’ll be careful, okay? I won’t follow anyone down dark alleys, I won’t accept rides from strangers, and I promise I won’t go after any dragons or their treasure.”

“You’re killing me. This heartburn I’m having is probably an ulcer. You’ve given your mother an ulcer.”

“By the way, Noah and I got married on the beach yesterday. Just so you know. Don’t worry, Sophia filmed it on Cassian’s phone. I’ll send you the video when we’re back in the States.”

Yeah, I know. But it felt right. She was already getting an ulcer anyway.

“Funny,” she says, not believing me.

Stoically, I trudge ahead. “We’ll plan a reception when we’re back.”

“You did not actually get married,” she breathes. It’s not so much a question as a threat.

“I have to go. We need to find a driver to take us to the vampire castle, and I still don’t have a ballgown for tonight’s dinner.”

“Do not change the subject. Did you just tell me you got married—wait. The vampirewhat?”

“I’ll let you know when we’re headed home, okay?”

“Piper, don’t you hang?—”

“Minutes, Mom! This call is already going to be expensive.”

“You just said you enrolled in an international add-on?—”

“Love-you-so-much-and-I’ll-buy-you-a-painted-egg,” I say in one breath.

And then I end the call.

“Well.” I stare at my phone screen. “That could have gone worse.”

“It could have also gone better,” Noah says. “I’m not sure that was the right way to tell them about the wedding.”

Not even thirty seconds later, Noah’s phone rings.

“It’s your dad,” he says warily.

“Best ignore it for now. You can grovel when we get back to Glenwood.”

“I will notgrovel.” Wisely, he ignores the phone call. “But I don’t think this is the best place for a chat.”

“How do we find a driver?” I ask.

People speak Romanian around us, but thankfully, many of the posted signs are in English.

Noah looks around the busy airport, frowning. “I have no idea.”

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