Page 11 of Cursed By Fate

“Oh, I see. You’re brushing up on your humor skills. Let’s focus on real issues for now.”

Penny saluted me. “You can count on me, boss.”

If there was one thing a fury was adept at, it was taking orders. The thought sickened me now—how willing I’d been to follow the Fates’ every lead. To do their bidding without question. Under normal circumstances, I’d want the new assistant director to have critical thinking skills and not blindly follow my lead, but that was exactly what I needed from Penny. On Evermore, the fury was more dangerous than she realized—to me.

I managed to intercept Vale as he boarded his yacht.

“Forget something, August?”

“You wouldn’t have come all this way for nothing,” I said, by way of explanation.

His face softened. “You’re here. How could it ever be for nothing?”

I held up a hand. “Don’t. We’re not doing that.”

He adopted a less alluring expression. “Your new assistant seems nice.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Vale’s eyebrow peaked. “Is she bringing out your competitive nature? Is this an All About Eve situation?”

I laughed. “Definitely not. I want her to be good at the job.”

“But not too good, or she might replace you.”

“She won’t.”

Vale smirked. “I like this arrogant side of you, Maya.”

“I don’t mean she won’t because I’m better. I only mean that I’m committed to Evermore in a way that she isn’t.” Because I had nowhere else to go. Penny wasn’t hiding. She could transfer anywhere she wanted, especially with the backing of the Fates. It was still somewhat of a mystery to me how she achieved that.

“Well, I hope she takes some of the pressure off you. I know you’ve had your hands full ever since Judd died.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

We stared at each other awkwardly for a beat before we both looked away.

I cleared my throat. “Tell me about this monster. What other information do you have?”

“Let’s talk onboard,” he said. “Then I’ll take you to see the key witness.”

Despite his promise, he didn’t have much to report.

“You’re being very mysterious about the details of this case,” I pressed.

His fingers tightened around the wheel. “To be honest, I don’t want to describe them.”

“That bad?”

“That sad.”

My stomach clenched. What could be so sad that he didn’t want to discuss it?

Vale quickly changed topics to our mutual friend, Harriet, recounting a recent incident at her Wonderland-inspired tea shop, The Mad Harriet. Apparently, an unsuspecting human attempted to rob the witch after hours—a decision he quickly came to regret. I laughed at his spot-on imitation of Harriet.

I hated how pleasant it was to spend time with Vale. It helped that we shared a dark and twisty sense of humor. Mine was no doubt the product of my traumatic upbringing. I suspected his was the same.

We docked at the mainland, and I followed Vale to his SUV, climbing into the passenger seat. We bypassed downtown Savannah.