Or that, at long last, someone respected me for who and what I was—or had been.
“Kids these days,” I teased. “No respect for good manners.”
“I’m not saying he ought to shove his tongue down her throat, but come on. Give her your number.”
There had been no time to get him set up with a phone before I left, so I couldn’t help there.
“Oh, I almost forgot to ask.” I heard her snap her fingers. “Are we out of winter rosebuds?”
They kept disappearing from under the counter, but I had yet to solve the mystery. These days, a couple of missing flowers didn’t rank on my to-do list. If they spouted fangs and started eating people? Then they got promoted to my top five.
“If they’re not in the office, we’re out.” I finished up and dried my hands. “I’ve got to go. Text if you need me.”
“I know the drill.” She hesitated. “Have you had a chance to talk to your friend?”
For a second, I blanked, and guilt ate me up from the inside. “We’re nailing down plans today, actually.”
As much fun as Clay had hanging around my house, he would get bored with video games eventually. He liked to keep busy. The no-sleep thing gave him too many hours to bump around without a purpose. The stories he told about life without TV and the internet to entertain him made me grateful for the flashy distractions available to us in the modern era. I was edging toward seventy, but I had a regimented early life. Books were okay, if they were educational. TV? Internet? Video games? The director would have banned them. Only pursuit in the excellence of wielding the dark arts satisfied him as time well spent.
Even self-defense had been off the table for me. If I couldn’t defend myself with magic, the director felt I hadn’t earned the right to protection. Probably why I learned early to incinerate first and ask questions never.
But Clay had a knack for people. Self-defense classes in town would occupy his time and provide a valuable community service. People trusted him. He was huge, but he was kind. Gentle. He made others feel safe.
“Great.” Her attention shifted to a low conversation I could barely hear. “Customers ahoy! Gotta go.”
The call ended before I could decide if she was eavesdropping on Arden and Aedan or actual customers.
Zoning out, I finished cleaning while my brain gnawed over how the sanctuary fit.
Unsure how long I drifted, I jerked to attention when Clay let himself in the front door.
“Raccoons.” He gestured to thin claw marks on his face. “A chonky momma with three mini chonks.”
“To get that scratched up, you must have called her that to her face.”
“Nah.” He waved off my attempt to fuss over him. “I did, however, cuddle one of the mini chonks.”
“Yeah.” I dried my hands. “That was my next guess.”
Only his lack of a home and the frequency of travel for work prevented him from owning a pet. Or fifty.
Before I ended up with a yard full of strays, I ought to sit him down for the no pets allowed chat.
“Mrs. Gleason said they can stay.” He stole an ice cream bar from the fridge. “I suspect she knew what it was and just wanted an excuse to ogle Aedan’s ass as he wiggled under the house. Followed by shining a flashlight on his ass while he crawled around to locate the problem in the name of being helpful.”
A whistling indrawn breath forced me to groan as Colby swooped into the kitchen, delighted with Clay.
“Let’s go.” Colby buzzed him, pretending not to be an eavesdropper. “We have a raid in thirty minutes.”
The lap desks I bought for the SUV might have been a mistake, seeing as how they led Clay and Colby to believe the backseat ought to be their sole domain, their own mobile gaming rig.
Had her eyes not gleamed so bright with her excitement, I might have fussed a reminder about life not revolving around Mystic Realms. But that wasn’t it. She was thrilled to share her world with another person, to see it was okay to have friends you never met in person in places you might never go.
“Well, in that case…” I flicked water in her face, “…let’s roll.”