Despite the tea, she wasn’t sleeping much. Neither was Camber. Since I stayed up late, puttering around in my kitchen, it wasn’t unusual for either girl to reach out to me at odd hours for comfort I was happy to provide, case or no case.
>>Uncle Nolan hopped a plane. He always says he’s going to stay, but he never does.
>>I don’t know why I let it upset me when I know better. Alabama has nothing on Africa.
>>I wish he had stayed in Spain. Why come back for like a day and then leave again?
A twinge of resentment toward Nolan for hurting the girls left me reconsidering my stance on hexes.
>I wish I could fix this for you.
>>Not your fault he’s a jerk.
>Want me to beat him up the next time I see him?
>>Yes, please.
>Consider it done. Now, go sleep.
>>Fiiine.
“You’re not purpling with rage or sprinting back toward the cabin, so I guess that wasn’t about Colby.”
For a second, I forgot Clay really didn’t know, that he wasn’t just being polite.
Unlike calls, which everyone overheard, no matter how awkward, he couldn’t hear texts.
“Arden’s uncle blew into town the day you arrived and made big promises to the girls he just broke. He’s a wildlife photographer who travels all over the world. He came because of what happened to them, or I thought that was the reason, but Arden texted he got itchy feet and decided to walk them off in Africa.”
“Then he’s a dick.” Clay made a disgusted noise. “Arden could use the moral support right now.”
The reminder I was on yet another case, instead of supplying that support, didn’t sit well with me.
But a deal was a deal. I couldn’t break mine with Black Hat. The cost for Colby and me was too high.
Teeth bared, the daemon rumbled, “He ask Rue on date.”
“Ah.” Clay rubbed his jaw. “I see.”
“I doubt it,” I muttered, not trusting the look in his eyes.
“The real problem was his twu wuv bailed,” Clay teased, “so he flew off to nurse his broken heart.”
“Not wuv,” the daemon snarled. “I break his face.”
“No, you won’t.” I yanked on his hair. “Nolan is human. He only asked me out because of the girls, and the girls would have been there the whole time. It was more of a family dinner than a date.”
“The plot thickens.” Clay’s grin spread with delight. “He was bringing you home to meet the family.”
“He not family,” the daemon roared. “I break your face.”
“Clay,” I warned, “knock it off before I leave you here as a statue for the birds to poop on.”
Smudge or erase the shem, one of the Names of God written on his forehead, and the flow of his power was disrupted, immobilizing him. He would be stuck as a lump of clay until Asa or I repaired the damage.
Afraid of my threat, or wary of the daemon’s temper, Clay decided to behave.
“Rue has never, in all the time I’ve known her, dated. She’s just not wired that way.”