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“Bollocks, it has!” Andras groaned. “For the love of—do not take him in there. I’m beggin’ ya.”
Cory was laughing so hard now, it was a miracle he was keeping my car between the lines.
For my part, I couldn’t help chuckling. As much as this whole situation was threatening to break my brain, there was something unavoidably comical about my shoulder angel and demon arguing about whether we should stop for ice cream. “Uh, why shouldn’t we take him to Pinkberry?”
Raziel crossed his arms. “Because Andras doesn’t think—”
“Because Andras doesn’t think anyone needs an angel on a bloody sugar high, that’s why.” Andras gave a long-suffering sigh and muttered some more curses.
Cory wiped his eyes, still laughing. “Wait, so angels can go on sugar highs? Seriously?”
“They most certainly cannot,” Raziel declared.
“Aye, they can,” Andras countered. “And the reports from our last three assignments have got detailed lists of everything that’s been damaged as a result.”
“Damaged?” I asked. “Sugar high or not, what in the world can a six-inch angel damage?”
“You’d be surprised,” Andras grumbled.
Raziel just huffed again and turned to look out the window, arms still crossed. Andras sat down hard on my shoulder and swore again.
And Cory…
Seriously, there was just something about the way this man laughed. The smile. The blush. The crinkles by his dark eyes, which always sparkled when he was overcome with amusement.
Now that I thought about it, hadn’t he said he was wary of the Unseelies and all the other tricksters because of his job? Maybe one of themhaddone something to mess with his love life.
I kept that thought to myself, but made a mental note to talk to my paralegal on Monday. I needed to talk to her anyway, since she understood this type of magic—the kind that involved love and relationships—even better than I did. If there was a curse or something out there with Cory’s name on it, she’d find it.
For now, we were getting into the Fae District, and the Unseelie Building was coming into view up ahead on the left.
Cory swallowed, eyeing the building. “So you said it’s across the street?”
“Yeah.” I leaned forward a little, craning my neck. “There. The Public Parking sign after the café.”
“The Public—ah. There it is.” He put on his signal and started to slow down.
Inside was a manned ticket booth. Cory opened the window, and the attendant peered into the car. “May I have your license plate number?”
My instinct to jump in and say that he absolutely couldnothave it had me sucking in a breath to speak, but Cory just smiled. “No, you may not.”
The man scowled, but he printed out a ticket and handed it to Cory. As Cory pulled away from the booth, I had to smile myself. I should’ve known he was too savvy to fall for a trickster’s attempt to take my license plate number. He’d probably had as many clients as I had who’d received tickets for driving unlicensed vehicles.
“I swear it’s registered!” I remembered one particularly incensed client bellowing. “Why would I be driving around with a blank plate?”
“You registered it, and you had a numbered plate,” I’d calmly said. “But you gave the number to a fae, didn’t you?”
The epiphany, followed by theoh, fuck my lifesigh was one I’d witnessed many, many times. Cory probably had too.
The fae and all the other tricksters could be frustrating, but they definitely kept life interesting.
I glanced at Raziel. Then at Andras. Then I suppressed a sigh as Cory eased into a parking space. Yeah, the tricksters kept life from getting boring, but man, that could be a double-edged sword sometimes.
Cory set the brake, shut off the engine, and turned to me. “All right. We’re here. Shall we?”
I nodded, and as we got out of the car, I hoped like hell we weren’t wasting our time.
Because I had no idea what I was going to do if I had to take Andras and Raziel into a courtroom.
