Page 48 of Imprisoned with the Vampire King

Callum handed it over.

I stabbed the button to take it off speaker and lifted it to my ear.

"What do you want?" I grumbled.

"Why are you asking Callum for money?" He went right to the point.

"I told you, it took me an entire year to get the pottery ready to break you and Jazz out of prison." I glanced up at the fae king and his mate.

Then turned around in my chair so they couldn't read the irritation on my face as I continued. "I'm not loaded like you guys. I make pottery, and basically own a prison that pays me literally nothing. It's not like I had free time to make extra dishes to sell at the farmer's markets. I was channeling every thread of my magic and energy into breaking you out."

I went on, "So yeah, I ran out of money. Callum runs the Cabinet, so I expect him to pull a couple hundred bucks out of the tax funds for the sake of me eating while I deal with the prison. He's the most likely to get thrown in there next anyway."

"She has a point," Kat whispered. "And the Cabinet should be paying her."

Dante breathed in and out slowly. Loudly.

"Are you going to say something, or am I going to hang up?" I asked. "I get that you need time to think, but⁠—"

"I'm trying to process the fact that you couldn't afford food and went to Callum, Ophelia. We're mates. I'm always going to fucking feed you. Even if you thought I was broke for some reason—and I made it clear that I wasn't—you know Grayson has money."

"I've only met him once, and he was pointing out the flaws in my prison when I did."

"It's a flawed prison."

"I am well aware." I hung up the phone and dropped it on the table before turning back to the fae king. "Thanks for that."

Callum's phone was already ringing again. His gaze flicked to it. I refused to look.

Dante's rage rolled over the thin barrier between our minds, making my spine straighten a little.

Yeah. He was definitely pissed.

Maybe he shouldn't have been such a dick to me.

Callum cleared his throat when the phone kept ringing. "You should probably answer that."

"Fuck off." I took an aggressive drink of my incredibly delicious latte, and went back to my pancakes.

Callum started to reach for the phone, but grunted. I was pretty sure his mate had just elbowed him in the side.

He withdrew his hand.

The phone kept buzzing.

Callum cleared his throat. "The Cabinet will provide money for food and your time as soon as we've seen a detailed write-up of the prison's problems. We'll also need a copy of your plan on how to address them, and the amount of time it will take you to do so."

"I can't write out details about how angelic magic works. The real angels already want me dead just for existing; they'd definitely find a way to kill me for that. They only tolerate my existence because I keep my head down."

And because they thought my prison worked somewhat well.

Which was apparently not true.

Callum said bluntly, "We're going to need some kind of explanation and timeline if you want Cabinet money, Ophelia. Your mate is not going to tolerate me personally funding your expenses, particularly considering that he's a powerful demon. They have an obnoxious amount of culture around providing for their loved ones."

"Not obnoxious," Kat corrected. "Understandable, considering they literally sustain each other with their bodies."

Callum waved it off. "Either way, I'm not looking to start a war with our closest allies. Jump through the Cabinet's hoops, or talk to your mate. I assure you, he can afford noodle cups."