Dragons are a Mage's Best Friend by Nikki Haverstock

Author:Nikki Haverstock [Haverstock, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ranch Dog Entertainment, LLC
Published: 2019-05-25T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We were parked in the Fuzzybatts lot, finishing off the amazing selection of pastries from Barneby’s. I ate a lemon-curd-stuffed croissant. “Are you sure mole people don’t exist?”

Vanessa tore a piece off her raspberry pie and gave a piece to Patagonia and another to Mac. Both were in the back seat, sulking and stinking of garlic-infused olive oil. “Are you crazy? They’re just a conspiracy theory. How naïve are you?”

“Dragons are real. Succubi and incubi are real. How am I supposed to know that mole people and aliens aren’t real?”

“I never said aliens weren’t real.”

“Wait, what?”

“No one knows, Ella. But the truth is out there.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” I stuffed the rest of my dessert in my mouth and then rubbed my temples. “So, should I ignore the mole people comment?”

“Yes! By the way, what did that blonde chick give you as we left? I saw her stuff something into your hand.” She held the bag out to me.

I grabbed something fluffy in the shape of a mitten with icing on top. “That was Samantha Barneby. She wants to be a Monza to get away from some arranged marriage.”

“She should have told them that she can’t wait to get fat, which always scares off potential suitors.”

“That was just a line?”

“Not my first time at the arranged-marriage rodeo. You going to help her?”

“I still don’t know what I am doing, but I will talk to Colleen.” I pulled out my phone and dashed out a quick text to her while I still thought about it. At the same time, I checked for a message from Emily but still found nothing.

“Vanessa, I… I think I need to message Thomas. I still haven’t heard from Emily.”

“Here. Have this first.” She passed me a glazed twist.

“I haven’t even finished this one.”

“I think you need both.”

I nodded and did so as I pulled up Thomas’s number, which was carved in my phone under the name “NO! DON’T CALL THIS.” But I wasn’t going to call him. I would text. I chewed and thought. Did I need to address that we hadn’t spoken in months? Should I demand help or just tell him the truth and let him take care of it?

I twisted around in my seat and handed a section of the last third of my food to Mac and Patagonia. Mac grabbed it and licked my face, and Patagonia took her section while continuing to glare at me. I was pretty sure I would wake up tomorrow with my couch clawed to pieces.

I wiped my hands on my pants and tapped out a message. “How does this sound? ‘Thomas, this is Ella. Emily told me she was in danger and needed to talk to me, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of her. Please let me know where she is.’ Should I add ‘Thank you’ to the end?”

“It’s fine. Send it.”

I took a deep breath and sent the text. It felt like I had opened a door to a room I didn’t want to enter.

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