"After hanging out with your family, I think I’m even lesshingedthan usual."
"Aren’t we all?"
His reluctant grin made my smile wider.
We slipped out of the car, and he recaptured my hand while we walked up to the door.
Ophelia's yard was full of overgrown plants, bushes, and weeds. The tree that had been there at some point looked like it must've snapped in half somehow, because the top half was tangled in one of the bushes, and the jagged-looking trunk remained where it was.
"Are you sure she's here?"Grayson asked me, as we made our way around the thick, wild mess of plants in an attempt to find the path to the front door.
"No, but we'll come back another time if she isn't. She doesn't do phones, so this is our best chance."
"How does angel magic work?"
"I'm not sure,"I admitted."I've never heard an explanation. They're even more secretive than fae.”
"So we're going in blind?"
"Not completely. Ophelia and I are acquaintances. She asked me to kill someone for her once, without a bargain, and I did it."
"You killed an angel?"
"I don't know what he was. I would guess he was an angel, but there was no evidence in any direction. She was in bad shape when she found me, and I knew enough of her to be sure that if she could kill him herself, she would've. She built the prison, afterward."
"Huh."Grayson sounded a little uncertain."Your life is crazier than mine. You know that, right?"
I flashed him a smile."I know. I don't need more insanity. You've been around my family."
"Yeah."
"The real question is if you can handle my brand of crazy, Darke."
"You know I can take you, Love."
I bit back a laugh at the innuendo.
We finally made it to the front door. The plants had been invading the walkway, but Grayson lifted the wild branches and leaves out of our way.
They would've started drooping as my magic drained them when they brushed my skin, if he hadn't.
Grayson knocked on the door. There was a solid minute of silence before it was flung open, and I came face-to-face with Ophelia.
She was average height and size, with light skin, flushed cheeks, and choppy, wild brown hair that fell to her collarbone. All she wore was a gray sports bra and a pair of jean overalls that were cropped into shorts on the bottom.
Her clothes and skin were covered in clay and clay dust, some of which was wet, and some of which was so dry there was no way to know how long it had been there.
"Oh. Merrily. Hi." Ophelia pushed her bangs out of her eyes with the back of her hand, accidentally coating the strands of hair with a little bit of wet clay.
She looked at Grayson, but seemed to decide against greeting him as she looked back at me. "You got that thank you card I sent a while back, right?"
"I don't remember a thank you card, but that's not?—"
She disappeared from the doorway. I heard water turn on somewhere in her house.A faucet, maybe.
"Well then," I murmured, peeking into the building.
It wasn't large, and there was barely any furniture that I could see. Mainly just shelves that were loaded to the brim with pottery in various shapes and sizes, some of them glazed and some not.
