Theia poked at her décolletage. “It seems a little like playing God. How does he determine that someone is deserving of having their soul ripped out and escorted to hell?”
Rhea shrugged. “It’s a scent or something. I don’t ask too many questions. He gets all Gunnar the tenth-century Viking on me sometimes, like his soul is taking the reins even though he’s no longer under the curse, and Gunnar can be a little...pompous.”
“But you’ve ridden with him.”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t feel weird about it? About taking somebody out of the earthly plane?”
“And having one less pedophile or rapist walking the earth? Not so much.”
Theia had to admit she didn’t exactly hate the idea. As long as their guilt was certain.
When Ione and Dev came back from closing up the temple, Theia could see the tension on Ione’s face. Carter had really gotten to her. She couldn’t blame her. Carter Hamilton was like a nasty rash that just kept coming back. It hurt to see his manipulative bullshit affecting Ione like this.
As Ione picked up one of the plastic bins of supplies, Theia hopped up from the bench and grabbed another. “Do you need any help getting things back to the house?”
“No, I think we’re good. Dev’s already loaded up the car with the rest.”
Theia followed her out with her bin. “By the way, Rafe mentioned something about getting the key to his dad’s place from you. He wanted me to take a quick look in on it while I’m watching Phoebe’s.”
“His dad’s place?” Ione set the bin on top of the others and loaded Theia’s next to it. “I thought he was selling that.”
“I assume he still is, but I guess nobody’s been by regularly except the gardener, and he wanted me to take a look around.”
Ione could always tell when one of them was bullshitting her, and the fact that she didn’t push back on the request spoke volumes about her mental state.
She took a set of keys from her purse and handed them to Theia. “Just make sure you get them back to me.”
As Ione got into the car, Dev took Theia aside. “She didn’t want me to tell you this, but our unwanted guest pretty much ruined her plans for the reception.” Dev glanced at Rhea leaning into the car to block Ione’s view. “It was supposed to be ours as well.”
Theia stared at him, confused. “Your what?”
“Reception. Don’t react. She might snap if she realizes I’m telling you. But we drove up to Vegas a few weeks ago and tied the knot.” He allowed himself a little grin while Theia suppressed the urge to squeal and jump up and down.
“You complete bastard. I can’t believe you’re telling me this now when I can’t do anything.”
“I suggested to Tweedledum that you and she could plan a little celebration for Ione later when she’s cooled down.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t say Tweedledee. Because Rhe is definitely Dum.” Theia grinned but kept it subtle. “And you can count on us.”
Rhea joined Theia as Dev and Ione drove away, waving like Stepford wives only to start jumping and squealing in unison the second the car was out of visual range.
“Can you believe the ovaries on that one?” Rhea laughed as they spun around. “Eloping and stealing Phoebe’s thunder? Phoebe’s going to be furious.”
“I don’t know how she kept it to herself all this time.” Although Ione was certainly better equipped to keep a secret than the rest of them. Theia glanced at Rhea as the dance died down. “You’d better not tell me you and Leo are up to something similar.”
“Me?” Rhea laughed. “Right. Like I’d get married.” She winked, which wasn’t reassuring. Everyone in the family was pairing off, and Theia was the odd one out. Rhea, as usual, could see what she was thinking. “Why don’t you just let me read you again?”
“No. There’s no reason to rehash what I already know.”
“Which is what? That your love life is cursed? I think you’re being way too literal about it. Just let me ask a more specific question.”
The night was getting chilly now that the sun was down. Theia pulled the shawl she’d borrowed from Ione around her shoulders, tucking her tattooed arm underneath it. “I’m good, thanks. So, takeout?”
Rhea sighed through her nose, her mouth in a thin line of annoyance, but shrugged her acquiescence. “Indian?”
Theia gave it a thumbs-up. “You order. I’ll drive.” She held out her hand for the keys.
“You’re not driving Minnie Driver.”
“Your car is not a person, and yes, I am. I saw how much champagne you had.”
Rhea tossed her the keys and got in on the passenger side, patting the dash. “Don’t listen to her, Minnie. You are too a person.” She pulled up the delivery app on her phone and started making selections. “Whose house are we going to? Phoebe’s or Rafe’s?”
“Neither, actually.” Theia ground the gears, and Rhea swore, gripping the seat. Theia ignored her, putting the car in gear properly. “Do you still have the address for Rafael Sr.’s place in your phone?”
Rhea glanced over at her. “The Ice Palace? Yeah, why?”
“There’s something I need to pick up. We can pretend we’re filthy rich, like Phoebe.” She grinned without looking over.
“Ha. Phoebe, married to the richest man in town, and still keeping her little bungalow.”
“I think she’s still freaked out about those reporters outside Rafe’s window filming him going spelunking in her cave that time.”
“He is quite the cave diver. Oh, dammit.”
“What?”
“We totally missed the opportunity for cave-diving puns. They’re visiting cenotes on their honeymoon.”
“Ah, damn. We’re off our game.”
Driving the labyrinthine route from Covent Temple back to the highway was much easier than driving in. A proximity glamour kept passersby from noticing the otherwise startling white byzantine spires against the sienna red hoodoos and hills of Sedona, and the disorientation spell on the road was an extra measure to confound those who might be purposefully looking for it.
Rhea’s red and white Mini was a blast to drive up Highway 179 through the walls of rocks and around the curves threading through the pines on the way to the secluded community hidden in the hills. Theia drove an automatic hybrid, which didn’t quite have the same kick.
“So what did you want to pick up, anyway?”
“Some papers Rafe’s dad kept. He said there’s some stuff about the original Covent and Madeleine Marchant I might want for my genealogy research.” There was no point in giving Rhea ammo to tease her by letting know she was researching Lucien Smok.
“Don’t we know all we need to about her?”
“Nothing is ever all you need to know about anything.”
Rhea rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot I was talking to Brainiac’s daughter.”
“So you’re not at all curious about the origins of our Lilith blood.”
“I just think you can overanalyze things. A little mystery in life is nice.”
Mystery was exactly what Theia didn’t want. She liked to know the whys and wherefores of things. Knowledge was power.