Page 35 of Too Cursed To Kiss
“Out,” I said, opening the passenger door.
Britannia crossed her arms and pouted, digging the spiked heels of her boots into the carpet, as if I might try to drag her out. Smart girl. I had that planned. Apparently, I needed a new tactic.
I walked around to the back of the car and readied my best approach. “Why the hell is your sister coming with us?”
Wald straightened up with a cordless power drill in his hand. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow.
“Agatha and Britannia have a special relationship, so it’s extra leverage.” His voice lowered, and he leaned into me. “Besides, it's better to keep an eye on her.”
God, that made sense, but I still didn’t like it. “Fine, but I’m riding up front.” Beside Wald was a suitcase, a matching pair of black duffel bags, and a black cooler. He’d been screwing the velvet-lined box to the sides of the trunk. The outside was perforated stainless steel so that the whole box breathed. I was such an idiot.
I couldn’t tell his reaction because he had his sunglasses on.
“Do you have to wear those?”
“My eyes are very sensitive. Britannia also has a problem with back seats, so she usually prefers the front seat. But if you get nauseous, let me know because I can help with that,” he said with a slight shift of his head. His lips twitched and parts of me twinged in reaction. Goddamn it. I was smitten with the bastard.
“Fine, I’ll drive then.”
“That’s not a good idea and you know it. I have a physical license which is not attached to a crime inquiry.” He set the drill inside the box.
The bastard was right. I didn’t have a driver's license. It was in my purse. Of course, that didn’t matter unless we got pulled over. “Let’s get on the road then. I can’t get there fast enough.” Annoyance itching at me, I walked back around the car to the passenger side and opened the door. Like the bratty child she was, Britannia held on to it so I couldn’t open it all the way.
“Get out. You’re sitting in the back.”
“How about no.”
You know how they say eyes flash daggers? Britannia had that look down. I clawed at my throat, choke-screaming as the pressure of invisible fingers crushed my windpipe.
“Stop it, Britannia. Get in the backseat,” Wald ordered as he opened the driver side door and slid in.
With a grunt, Britannia slammed the door shut but squeezed between the seats, her hands sliding over Wald’s arm.
I ripped open the door and glared at her as I got in.
She hissed and kicked the seat as I put on my seatbelt.
“Stop it.” I twisted around.
“Britannia behave yourself,” Wald snapped, starting to back out of the garage.
I shot Britannia a smug smile. I’d won for now. “How far is Vegas?” I asked Wald.
“Depends on how fast I drive. Under twelve hours.”
“That’s forever.” I groaned. But at least we had a destination and a whisper of a plan.
The house faded into the trees, and we hit the dirt roads again. The silence in the car lasted until we made it to the highway when Wald turned on music. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe industrial with a heavy beat? Instead, his music choice was acoustic strings with the screech of electric guitar in the background. Mesmerizing in its repetitiveness.
“Tell me about Aunt Agatha.”
“You’ll like her. She’s quite complicated.” He rubbed the steering wheel with a gloved hand.
Maybe it was me, but it felt like he filled the car with his presence. I breathed in his scent. “That isn’t descriptive.”
“Likely not. But you’ll understand what I mean when you meet her.”
“Jeezus, can you ever just tell me? What does she do in Vegas?”
