Page 124 of Throwing Shade
“You agreed to the rules.”
“I read an email. That’s hardly legally binding.”
“One does not quit book club mid-year!” She took a breath and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Sharon is hosting the next one. She found a darling recipe for blinis so we’re going with a Russian theme.”
God, not the Russians. My shoulders slumped. Please don’t be Doctor Zhivago. Sharon was a little too fond of her themed meetings. She’d probably cut out two thousand snowflakes and wear a fur hat. “Which book?”
Marsha gave me a vicious smile. “War and Peace.”
New to-do list. Fake my death and move to a country with no extradition treaty.
“You’ll bring the rosé?” she said.
“Uh-huh,” I said weakly.
“Excellent.” She clapped her hands. Her arms were so toned that they didn’t even jiggle.
If she was an Ohrist, I’d have let Delilah out to play. My fingers twitched. If only I could grab her shadow and sever it from her exceedingly fit body. Who’d be laughing then?
I stilled. Would shadow surgery work on Jude? Max had said removing a dybbuk from someone who was enthralled was similar to when they were fully possessed. What if the difference was accessing the dybbuk through their shadow as opposed to their physical body?
What was the important caveat though?
“Marsha, you might be a real lifesaver.” I held up my hand for a high-five, which she hesitantly returned.
“Because of the rosé?”
“Because of the shitty wine and pretentious books and for being you.”
“Oh, well. Thank you?”
“You bet.” I fired finger guns at her.
She shot me a doubtful look, then thrust the wreckage of the failed baking in my hands and went back to her car.
Grinning, I drove over to Hotel Terminus. If my hypothesis was correct, I didn’t want to waste a moment.
Emmett answered the door.
“Where’s Huff ’n’ Puff?” I said.
“Out fighting something. Like my cane?” He waved a black cane topped with a silver-plated dragon at me. “Naveen delivered it to me. I’m thinking of keeping it, even once I get my leg back.”
“Very chic. Is Jude awake?”
Emmett shrugged.
“Well if she isn’t, we’ll wake her. It’s time to get the dybbuk out.” I strode confidently over to the elevator.
Laurent had left the door and gate open. He didn’t extend this courtesy to others in Jude’s situation. He’d done it to ease my discomfort in chaining up my best friend. This lone wolf, who was prone to violence and wielded barbed words as much as his claws, had a huge heart.
I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck, pushing aside my guilt. Apologizing to Laurent was a problem for après-dybbuk-vanquishing me.
My friend was awake, sitting with her legs hugged up to her chest and a distant expression on her face, absently scratching Boo behind her ear.
“Jude.”
She gave me a wan smile. “Listen, I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
