“Well, we’ve got plenty of time now. We can tell each other everything.”
“I can’t wait. Liam, I—I don’t think you’re a child with a crush.”
“I think that might be as close to ‘I love you, too’ as you will get,” Sinclair said.
“Seriously. You guys. We’re right here.” Betsy waved at them from across the table. “I mean, make with the goo-goo eyes a little more, why don’t you? Get a room!”
“We did. And we’d better get there pretty quick, or my new girlfriend is going to go up in smoke like that little prick.”
“Horrible thought. Dr. Trudeau.” Sinclair nodded at her, and she stood beside the booth and bowed back. Liam slid out behind her. “Liam.” Since he wasn’t a subject, the king shook his hand. “Thank you again.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Betsy said, shaking their hands. Sophie started to bow to her, then thought better of it (the warning glare was a tip-off). “Thanks for figuring it out, tracking down the bad guy, and killing him. I’m trying to figure out what you needed us for,” she joked.
“It’s nice to make new friends, if nothing else,” she replied, smiling shyly at the queen. “I’ve been alone for a while, but it was by choice…a poor one, I’m thinking now.”
“Yeah, well, nice to meet you, too.”
Sophie was looking at the new queen with a thoughtful expression. “I avoided this area when Nostro was in power, but now things seem very different. I’d like to stay in touch.”
“Nothing would please us more,” Sinclair said. “Good night.”
“One more thing,” Liam said, as he and Sophie went back out to the truck. “Since I’m telling you all the deep dark secrets I’ve been keeping, I’ve got another one.”
“Yes?”
“I hate cats.”
She laughed. “Be serious.”
“Sophie. I hate ’em. That’s why I don’t have any.”
“You have a dozen!”
“Well, they aren’t mine. I just feed them and look after them.”
“I thought you loved cats,” she said, confused. “You’re always bringing them to me and—oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh!”
“Uh-huh. You know, you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
“I guess not,” she admitted, and laughed, and kissed him.
GALAHAD
Angela Knight
1
SHE came out of it curled on the living room rug, sweating and nauseated. Caroline Lang swallowed hard, trying not to heave up the pint of magic, calorie-free Ben and Jerry’s she’d had for dinner. The copper taste of blood drowned out any lingering chocolate, accompanied by a pulsing throb in her lower lip. She must have bitten it.
Groaning, she rolled onto her hands and knees and watched her arms shake. Her muscles were still jumping in the aftermath of the vision, and her head throbbed. The television didn’t exactly help, blaring a used car commercial loud enough to wake Elvis. “Off!” Caroline gasped, casting a quick spell.
The TV instantly went silent. She sighed in the blessed stillness.
One minute she’d been licking a spoonful of Chunky Monkey and yelling answers at a particularly witless Jeopardy contestant. She’d just told him the capital of Lithuania when all hell broke loose in her brain. Blinded by the storm of images, Caroline had reeled to her feet, tripped over the coffee table, and fallen flat on her face.