Page 103 of Bargain with Fate
“I’d hang around a bit longer if I were you. I have a feeling your friend Leanne will act quickly now that we’ve paid her a visit.”
“You want her to lead you to the Coranians.”
“Isn’t that what you want too?”
“Of course, but first I want her to release her hold on Ronald.”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?”
“No, because I cut them off before they can finish.”
Vale laughed. “Come back to headquarters and have lunch with me. I guarantee we’ll be back on Jones Street before the day is over. Ronald will be free. Leanne and the Coranians will be caught.”
“All our problems tied up in a pretty bow, huh? Nice fantasy world you inhabit.”
He held out his hand. “Trust me, Maya. Just this once. Give it a chance and see what happens.”
I contemplated his hand, strong and calloused. It wasn’t like the hand of other gods and demigods I’d encountered. Theirs had been smooth, slick even. Pristine.
Not to be trusted.
But I didn’t want to live my life in a constant state of fear and end up like Stephen, too busy ignoring and stifling my feelings to process them.
“I could eat,” I said, and placed my hand in his.
Chapter
Sixteen
The Georgia peach was a subtle feature of Vale’s house. Symbolic peaches were embedded in the exterior as well as the interior, even sculpted in the iron gates. It was more than a state symbol, however; the fruit was also the Taoist symbol of immortality. A fitting nod to the seat of a demigod.
I laughed when we arrived in the kitchen and I spotted a bowl of fresh peaches on the counter.
“Something funny?” Vale asked, as he opened the fridge.
“No, I like a house that really leans into a motif.”
He scanned the shelves. “Why don’t I pull out all the options, and we can help ourselves?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“All the options” was a smorgasbord of deli meats, three loaves of different types of bread, barbecue chicken drumsticks, more cheese than a monger, and a deep dish of lasagna.
“Are you running a restaurant out of your kitchen?” I asked, slicing a large piece of lasagna.
“I have a sizable staff with sizable appetites.”
“Nice of you to oblige them. Who cooks?”
“Dahlia, usually, but the lasagna is mine.”
I let the forkful of meat, cheese, and pasta hover in front of my mouth. “You made this?”
“It isn’t poison, I promise. And the fact that there’s only half left suggests it was a hit with the other members of the household.”
I slid the fork into my mouth and took a bite. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up in a food coma before Leanne made her next move.
“You don’t have to eat at the counter, you know. I have a table and chairs. Several, in fact.” He piled a plate with a selection from each offering and carried it to the table in the breakfast nook.
