‘Ohhhh.’ Boris nodded wisely. ‘I see what happened. It worked, didn’t it? Alexander MacTire fell for Isadora Jones and they’re tripping off together hand in hand into the sunset. You succeeded and now you feel like shit.’
‘If I succeeded, why would I feel like shit?’
‘Duh. Because you’re head over heels in love with him and the only person you want him to have a happy ending with is you. But he’s an alpha werewolf and you’re a…’
‘…squib,’ she muttered. ‘Just a squib.’ Her shoulders slumped.
‘Oh, Mallory.’ Boris reached for her and, with uncharacteristic kindness, pulled her into a hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘He didn’t fall for Isadora Jones,’ she mumbled into his shoulder. ‘He didn’t fall for anyone.’
Boris stepped back and squinted at her. ‘Is that good news? Or bad news?’
There wasn’t any answer to that so Mallory changed the subject. ‘What are you doing here on a Sunday morning?’
‘Vanessa Pitcairn, of course.’
She stared at him.
‘The bellarmine jug? She’s dropping it off. I took the liberty of contacting Mr Longchamps to tell him that you’ve been successful. He asked – surprisingly politely – if you’d take the jug to his house as soon as you can. He’ll wait up for you instead of going to bed for the day as usual.’ Boris beamed. ‘And Nicola Sturgess is ready to meet him tonight to hand over the Clouded Map. This entire sorry saga is almost at an end.’
‘Oh.’Shit. With all that had happened with Alexander, Mallory had entirely forgotten about Longchamps and the damned bellarmine jug.
‘I can take the jug, if you like,’ Boris offered. ‘The faster it’s in that fangy bastard’s bony hands, the faster we’ll never have to think about him again.’
‘You hate vampires.’
‘Yeah, I do. But I can do this part.’
She shook her head. ‘No. It’s better if I deal with him.’ She checked the time; it was only just gone eight o’clock and Vanessa was due at nine. Hmm. ‘Mr MacTire is coming here at eleven. I’ll deal with Vanessa then take the jug to Chester Longchamps. If I’m not back by eleven, let Mr MacTire in. He can wait until I get back.’
‘Mr MacTire? What happened to Alexander?’
‘It’s not appropriate to call him that. He’s a client, not a friend.’
‘Uh-huh.’
Mallory sighed. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She glanced at the kitchen wall and the display of potential First Mate werewolf pictures and notes. ‘Let’s get this down before he arrives.’
Boris looked worried. ‘Are you alright, Mallory? You don’t seem yourself.’
‘I’m fine.’
He wasn’t appeased. ‘I’ll make the coffee and take these down. You have a shower and sort yourself out.’
Tears pricked the back of her eyes for no good reason whatsoever.
‘Go,’ he said gently. ‘I’ve got this.’
By the timethat Vanessa Pitcairn arrived Mallory was feeling, if not better, slightly more like herself and she managed to smileat the High Priestess. She even remembered to offer her a cup of coffee.
‘No.’ Vanessa shook her head. ‘I’m on my way to brunch so I’ll decline. I simply wanted to thank you again for how wonderful you’ve been.’
She’d not been wonderful last night.
‘I know I’ve said it before,’ Vanessa continued, oblivious to Mallory’s inner turmoil, ‘but you’re a true miracle worker.’
Nope.
