Vicious Little Vows by Sara C. Roethle

Author:Sara C. Roethle [Roethle, Sara C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vulture’s Eye Publications
Published: 2025-09-23T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

We had our order packaged to go. Dawn was not happy, and Rian watched us all too knowingly. As we left the restaurant with Crispin’s hand on my lower back, I made a mental note to investigate Rian’s motive for dating my ex boss. If he was only trying to get more information on what his king was up to, he was going to the top of my shit list.

And yeah, maybe the people trying to kidnap me should have been up there, but you know, girl code.

Sebastian met us out on the street. I started to explain what happened, but he lifted his hand to cut me off. “Marcie informed me.” He looked both ways, as if the celestial in question might still be watching, even though she had agreed to meet me at the gates to the Bogs.

Because that was where we were going. If my great grandfather was really after me, I needed to be beyond a boundary. Not that it would stop him personally from reaching me, but it would stop most of his henchmen, especially if they were all werewolves and fairies.

With one arm loosely around my waist, Sebastian hailed a cab. One stopped almost immediately, even though it was a busy evening on a popular strip of restaurants and bars. That was usually the case with Sebastian. I was still working out how he did it.

He opened the door for me and I climbed inside, with Crispin going around to the other door. Soon I was sandwiched between the guys with Ringo on my shoulder, boxed up fancy mac and cheese and matcha beignets on my lap. We’d had the option to wait longer for Crispin’s steak, but he’d been as itchy to get out of there as I had.

When we were all silent, the driver flipped on the radio. An old school rock ballad oozed out of the speakers, making the tense situation feel a bit ridiculous. I couldn’t wait to be out of the cab where Sebastian could pop up an eavesdropping bubble so we could actually speak. The bubbles had to be rooted to one spot, so it wouldn’t work while we were moving.

Obviously feeling brave after offering to claw a gargoyle’s eyes out—even though he’d offered after the gargoyle was gone—Ringo hopped down to my lap next to the takeout boxes. He looked at the boxes, then up at me pleadingly.

I shook my head. “You can wait until we get there.” There was no way I was getting green matcha icing on my dress.

“You treat that thing like a child,” Sebastian tsked. “It’s older than you by several decades.”

I glared. “He’s not an it.” Shaking my head for a different reason, I flipped open the lid of the top takeout box where the beignets were hidden.

Ringo went to town, not at all worried about being called an it. In fact, he didn’t seem to care much about insults as long as he was safe and fed. While I couldn’t provide the safe part, I could at least provide the latter.

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