I was just about to kill the call when it stopped ringing. “Ayaulym,” my aunt answered in a thick accent, which given the proximity and history sounded Russian. “You missed our monthly phone call.”
“I apologize, Aunt, my attention has been diverted. There is a situation I need your help with.” The trick to dealing with Aunt Sophia was to inflate her ego. If she felt needed, like an integral part of the solution to a huge problem, then she would be more likely to help.
Hudson folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. Yes, yes, you also diverted my attention.
“Bah, we can discuss my sister’s ridiculous ambitions later.” I glanced at Aunt Liz, she held her hands up. “Liz, don’t act innocent.”
I blinked. My Aunt Sophia was blessed with unknown gifts, and one of them seemed to be the knowledge of who was listening in on the conversation. “Sorry, Aunt,” Liz said.
“What is more interesting is why you have The Principal of the North American packs in the room.”
Hudson’s eyebrows shot up and he scanned the room like he would find my aunt lurking in a shadowy corner.
Aunt Sophia’s chuckle was deep and a little husky. “Mated? To Hudson Abbot? Well, my girl, you certainly could have done worse for yourself, and very clever to avoid the curse with a species that would sooner cut off their own arm than cause pain to their mate.”
I opened my mouth and was shushed down the phone. “Why am I the last to know?”
My mouth continued to gape open as she went on. “I need to see him for myself.”
“I can put the video on,” I offered with a wince.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cora, I cannot find the measure of a man through a video call. I will be there soon.”
“Aunt, that is not the reason I called,” I said.
“Well, it should have been.”
I chewed my lip. That was a fair point, but I still needed to push on with the problem. “My grandmother has taken Eunice’s grimoire from the third vault.”
Sophia went quiet. That was more disconcerting. “Without the book I cannot help you.”
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “I have a replica.”
My shoulders hunched as I braced for the tirade of displeasure across the Atlantic. Aunt Liz laid her hand over mine and gave it a quick squeeze.
“You made a copy of the most powerful grimoire in existence?” Aunt Sophia asked carefully.
“Technically,” Aunt Liz interrupted. “She made a copy of the entire vault and put a magical signature trace on every item in there.”
I glared at my aunt. “Stop helping me,” I mouthed. Hudson tilted his head like he was considering the significance of what I’d revealed. Big clue, I was in deep shit with my family.
“That’s my girl,” Aunt Sophia gushed, and then launched into a monologue in her native language. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“No—wait,” I tried. I did not need another meddling family member in my business.
“Don’t you understand what’s at stake?” Aunt Sophia snapped. Her turnabout of emotion was giving me whiplash.
“Clearly, that’s why I’m calling you.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Cora Roberts, you aren’t too old to go over my knee.”
Hudson snorted. “Yes, Aunt,” I whispered as my cheeks flushed. There was nothing like getting chastised by your family in front of your mate.
“What’s the worst spell in there?” Aunt Liz asked.
A resigned chuckle came down the phone. “The worst thing in that book isn’t the spells.”
She’d lost it, surely the worst thing in a spell book, was a spell? It wasn’t like it had recipes for cakes in there.
