Page 37 of Warlocks Don't Win
“Yeah, and knowing helps so much.”
He followed close behind me, not waiting for Jessica. Why were they so antagonistic towards each other? Not that I cared. Fine, I cared a stupid amount and always had. That’s why I had to get untangled from him before I forgot how much I hated him.
Chapter
Thirteen
When I finally stumbled off the train, Winston put a large hand over the base of my spine and led me to a sleek black car waiting at the curb.
It was a movie star car that screamed ‘look at me, I’m a movie star!’
“Very subtle,” I muttered.
He opened the passenger door and gave me a slight smile while Jessica sputtered.
“You can’t park here! This isn’t even a parking space.” She grabbed my arm and tugged me closer to her, twinging my shoulder. Today started out too long and it still wasn’t over. “She’s coming with me.”
I was like one of those party favors she’d fought over with Susan Wiggy until the favor was confetti. I yanked my arm out of her grasp. “Actually, I’m done for the day. Your car is too far away. Later.” I slid into the car and Winston closed it before Jessica could do anything more than look distressed. In another moment he was in the driver’s seat, rolled shirt-sleeves revealing muscular forearms that I hated so much.
“Can we try this again?” he asked, pulling out into traffic with a low growl of his diva car.
“The way door?” I muttered, rubbing my shoulder. Dame Winston’s attack had exhausted me down to my soul, mostly because I’d stupidly expected her to be more like her letters. Kind. Supportive. Not trying to kill me.
“Dinner.” He gave me a flirty smile and took the next corner, taking us in the direction of the Italian place that had been so memorable.
“You’re kidding,” I said flatly. “I should have gotten a ride with Jessica. I’m not in the mood for dealing with death curses or golems.”
“There won’t be any of that. My people are here.”
My spine prickled. “Your people?”
“Sure. I’ve spent a lot of time organizing people so that they’ll be useful in certain circumstances.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Your people are in Salem? You don’t think this is going to be war? I’m telling you right now, it is. Go ahead and wipe out the coven. None of my business. My business is sleeping and researching the curse. Also, I don’t think you should stay at Sage House overnight anymore.” My heart plinged at the words. I’d really, really liked waking up with Winston.
“I thought we were giving you closure.”
“That was before I accidentally married you.”
He shot me a smile. “Sure. I’ll stay at the cozy bed and breakfast run by Jessica’s cousin if you’d like, but only after you have dinner.”
I frowned at him while suspicion bloomed. “Your noodles are like my sausage rolls, binding me to your will?”
He shook his head, looking relaxed and amused, but the way he gripped the steering wheel belied all those professional facemuscles. “I know the guy who owns it. He’s a friend of mine. My spy, if you like.”
“Your spies own restaurants? How unique. No. I’m not going to be relaxed enough to eat happy carbs at the same place a golem came through the window and tried to chop me to pieces. You can drop me off here. I like walking.”
“Clary, we need to talk,” he said, putting a large hand over mine, eyes flickering at me with intensity. “Jorry has the best stuffed crust pizza in the world. Also, tiramisu that isn’t the crap whipped cream and jello that you hate.”
I hesitated and my stomach growled. Stuffed crust pizza was my secret weakness. He knew because we’d gone to the closest pizza place after the fancy ball that night we’d spent together, talking for twenty-four hours. I’d gone on and on about that pizza.
Worst day of my life. I’d thought it was the best at the time, but that just goes to show you how impossible it is to have any proper perspective when you’re in the thick of idiotic emotions.
“I don’t like stuffed crust pizza or tiramisu anymore. That was the old me.”
He gave me a look before refocusing on the road. He knew I was lying. I didn’t even try to sell it. “I’ll get you whatever you want in a fifty mile radius. But we need to talk.”
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. Then again, when did I? I was trying to give myself closure, but marrying him wasn’t closure.
