Oh great, thanks for the warning!I immediately tried to focus my thoughts on something I liked about the house.
She nodded absentmindedly as if what Gage had just said was no big deal. “Would you like tea, dears?”
Gage smiled fondly at his aunt and inclined his head. “I wouldn’t be a true Brit if I turned down a cup of tea.”
Vera smiled back at Gage and then looked to me, waiting for my response as well.
“Yes, please,” I said even though I’d rather have coffee. I was a New Yorker, after all. We lived on black coffee and pizza slices.
“She doesn’t like tea,” Vera observed, and my eyes widened.
“Can you stop reading her? It’s not polite and you know that,” Gage said sternly.
Vera shrugged. “So many liars in this world. Can’t trust anyone,” she mused as she started to make tea, but she also walked over to a coffeemaker and turned it on.
Wow. Okay. Note to self, don’t lie while here, even if it’s to be polite!
Gage tipped his head toward a delicate Victorian love seat in the living room that barely looked big enough for the two of us. As we took a seat and settled in, I noticed that the tufted fabric was once white, but now covered in intricate hand painted flowers. It was busy, but actually quite lovely. It was like she brought a bit of an English garden inside.
It wasn’t a few short minutes before Vera returned, carrying a tray with a teapot and two teacups, and a mug full of coffee. She set it on the glass-topped flamingo table in front of us and then took a seat on a purple wingback chair across from us.
“I apologize for barging in on you like this, Aunt Vera, but we need your help,” Gage said as he added a splash of cream to his tea.
“Hmm,” Vera said as she brought her own teacup to her lips and took a sip. “That much I’d already worked out for myself.” Another sip. “You know I don’t get involved in Watcher business.”
Setting his cup down Gage leaned forward, his gaze intent on his aunt. “I know that, but this is important.”
“Important is relative,” Vera said. “What’s significant to one person is inconsequential to the next.”
That was a rather obvious and noncommittal statement. I was glad Gage was leading this conversation because I didn’t quite know what to say to that.
“This is important to every human alive. Past and present,” Gage pressed.
Vera scrunched her nose like she smelled something off-putting. “I don’t care for humans very much.”
“You don’t care for Watchers either.”
“Exactly my point,” she said with a cloyingly sweet smile, and then turned her sharp gaze on me. “I want to hear about this girlfriend of yours. When’s the wedding?”
I had just taken a sip of my coffee and started to choke. I quickly set my cup down as I hacked and gasped for air.
Gage patted my back, trying to help me cough up the bit of liquid I’d inhaled. “Auntie, that wasn’t nice.”
She smiled broadly, looking nothing but pleased with herself. “So, Gage, you’re dating a Lumen. How very progressive of you.”
“How…” I started, and then clamped my mouth shut, coming to terms with the fact that Vera was picking up information from both Gage and me and was just going to know some things without us telling her.
“Is this just a rebellious phase?” she asked, “Or is this some sort ofRomeo and Julietsituation?”
I winced. I’d always hated that play. Spoiler alert: they both die in the end. What’s romantic about that?
“Tate isn’t a phase,” Gage said, sounding annoyed.
“We met before I chose my house affiliation,” I added, as if somehow that made everything all right.
“Pity,” Vera said, and then took another sip of tea. “Nothing good ever came from a Shade and Lumen pairing.”
Err… maybe this was a good time to tell Vera that Gage wasn’t a Shade anymore.
