Page 72 of Vengefully Matched
Fuck, she’s beautiful is what Priscilla thought, and what she should have said, but she found her mouth smirking instead.
“Blame that on the house?”
Agatha flushed bright red, and then Priscilla really did have to look away finally; the blush extended down her neck and chest, and she thought she might lose her grip on reality entirely if she let her gaze drop lower again.
She turned around, because she could be classy.
At least somewhat.
“Sorry,” said Agatha, and Prissy wanted to tell her that she had nothing to apologize for, that the house had clearly been meddling again, riffling through too many romance novels in the library and getting ideas. “What did you say you needed?”
The reminder grounded her, crushing any lingering desire.
“Right. Azrael needs our help with something.” Since Vickie had moved out of the apartment above Hopelessly Teavoted and rented it out, she’d moved right into Hart Manor, which made Azrael setting up his master plan slightly more difficult. Which is where she and Agatha came in.
“Give me just a moment.” There was the sound of rustling, a zipper, and drawers shutting. “There,” said Agatha. “You can turn around now.”
Agatha was dressed, but even in flowy pants and a black-and-white striped shirt that zipped up in the back, Priscilla could now imagine exactly what lay beneath.
She blinked, focusing on the task. Right. Her annoying brother, who needed their help.
“Is everything all right with Azrael?” Agatha fiddled with her earrings, adjusting them in the mirror to be even.
“Yes, but he needs a favor.”
“The man did break us out of a glass prison; it’s the least we could do after he managed to procure a devil who could break a Loculus and produce an alibi for you.”
“I know. I said you’d probably be willing to help, even though it’s personal in nature.”
“Oh?”
“He needs us to distract Vickie. Take her out for an hour, and make sure she gets back here precisely at noon.”
“Oh my gosh.” Agatha stopped, and looked at the door, which was most definitely closed. “Is this…?”
Priscilla nodded. “It is. My sad sap of a falls-in-love-with-everyone brother has actually been in love with Victoria for going on decades now, and he’s going to ask her to marry him, proper.”
“I love that.” Agatha’s eyes sparkled. “What can we do?”
“We take a trip to the bookstore. I’ll say we need the one up near Havenwall. That way we can certainly get lost in the stacks for long enough, and if she loses interest, we’ll be far enough from Hallowcross to give Az warning.”
“Brilliant. How do you want to ask her in a non-suspicious way?”
“I hope you don’t mind that I already have.”
“What did you tell her?” Agatha brushed her hair, gazing at Prissy curiously.
Priscilla blushed. What she had said was that she was starting to really fall for Agatha, and she wanted a second opinion on the thing they had going on, a neutral third party to observe.
“Just that I needed something from Wyrds, Wyrds, Wyrds and that I wanted her to spend a bit of time with you too.” Vickie had been so eager to get to know Agatha that Priscilla very much doubted there was even a hint of suspicion in her mind.
“Genius. Shall we?”
“I told her we’d meet her in the foyer in a few minutes.”
The drive to Wyrds, Wyrds, Wyrds, the independent bookstore just outside of the college town of Havenwall, was pleasant. Vickie had been trying out a new recipe for strawberry rugelach, and had brought the test batch, as well as a thermos of honeycomb latte, which Priscilla knew was specifically for Agatha. It was eleven by the time they finished shopping, and Agatha made a helpful announcement that she really did need to get back to work.
As she excused herself, presumably to the bathroom, but really to text Azrael their ETA, Priscilla couldn’t help but think that she and Agatha made a good team. She tried not to make too much of it. They had agreed that this relationship had an expiration date, and it wouldn’t do to get all caught up in mushy romantic feelings just because her brother was about to propose to the love of his life.
