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ChapterThirty-Five
SUNDAY
“Sunday Amadeus Fallon. You are in BIG trouble.”
I froze in the doorway of the bathroom, the knob still clutched in my hand, wet hair in a towel. I wasn’t sure amusement was appropriate with the way Moira was glaring at me, but I couldn’t help the little shakes of laughter working their way through me. “Amadeus?”
“Well, I don’t know your middle name, but this kind of trouble requires a full name’s worth of chastisement.”
“Rose.”
She rolled her eyes. “Basic and boring. I’m changing it.”
“ToAmadeus?”
“It was good enough for Wolfy. It should be good enough for you.”
“I’m not following.”
“Mozart.”
“I didn’t realize you were on a nickname basis with dead composers.”
She raised a sculpted brow. “Who says he’s dead, smartypants?”
“Uh, history?”
“Wrong. The greatest composers and artists of our time faked their deaths when they were turned.”
Turned. Vampires. Well, shit.
“What about Elvis?”
Moira mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.
I shook my head, giving in to my laughter. “Moira, you are a nut. Now get over here and give me a hug. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, you bitch.”
We moved toward each other, embracing tightly, neither of us wanting to let go.
“I heard about Kingston,” she murmured.
“It was awful.”
“How areyoudoing? What’d Lilith say?”
Shit. A heavy weight settled back on my shoulders. Talking about Lilith meant talking about Caleb. I wasn’t ready to get into that again.
“Not a succubus.”
“Huh. I thought for sure we were onto something.”
Now didn’t seem like a great time to mention I might also be the devil’s daughter.God, when did things get so complicated?
I never thought in a million years I’d ever think this, but I was really starting to miss my days in the tower. At least things were simpler then.
“You’re keeping something from me,” Moira said, narrowing her eyes.
