Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(73)
I sighed.
“Are we gonna get donuts or what? I’m starved,” I blurted to interrupt the contest and so I could get my dang donut.
“No,” Ash said.
Um.
What?
“What do you mean, ‘no’? These are Krispie Kremes!” I gestured to the hundreds of donuts traversing the conveyor belt, floating through the vat of hot fat and being swathed by a solid sheet of liquefied sugar. “I am a lonesome traveler far from home and this is the food of my people!”
I stopped the drama queen tantrum as Ash turned me around and steered me out while Aidan followed us.
No Krispie Kremes.
No reciprocal hug from Aidan.
Not even a moment at the Lalique counter (just to look).
Cruel, cruel world.
I slumped down the pavement through the throngs, dragged along by Ash pulling me by the hand, my disappointment huge that I was turned away from a hot-out-of-the fat glazed donut and probably toward a fry-up or worse, some health-food crapola.
Ack!
As I passed, I stared dejectedly into shop windows that I would normally have been noting for future after-breakfast shopping reference.
And then I saw it.
Oh… my… goddess!
I stopped dead (so dead, Ash stopped with me) and pressed my face against the window.
There, in front of me, were rows and rows of mouth-watering pastries: mini-tiramisus, éclairs, thick cream slices, shiny, sugar-glazed fruit tarts, Danishes galore, cakes with fancy, fanned sheets of chocolate that were utter works of art.
And, the most beautiful of all: custard filled donuts that were the size of my hand.
Do not mistake me, not my palm, my hand, from the tip of my middle finger to my wrist and then some.
I pressed my nose against the glass hoping it would absorb me so I could fall, face first, into the cream, the chocolate, the…
“Matty?” It was Aidan.
“Here, here, I wanna eat breakfast here,” I breathed and pointed at the display.
“We are… come inside so we can get a table.”
Patisserie Valerie.
The new love of my life.
I wanted to buy a house across the street so when I wasn’t eating there, I could stare at the windows with binoculars.
A short wait and we were at a table (or, more to the point, a table that both Ash and Aidan found acceptable).
Ash sat with his back against one wall, Aidan with is back against the other wall and I faced them.
All I can say is, thank the goddess we didn’t live in the Wild West or these two would have gunned each other down in the street long ago.
Okay then.
Coffee.
Check.
Big-ass custard donut.
Check.
There I was, me and my boys and the promise of a huge donut.
Yay!
And.
Ack!
Mm, not the greatest conversationalists, these two.
“Okay,” I started. “So… bombs?”
Ash gazed at me, Aidan watched, I waited.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
“Obviously, they were trying to take you two out,” I noted. “Why would they do that?”
“What makes you think they wanted to take us out?” Ash asked.
“I had a vision… you were coming one way, Aidan the other and… then… er, kablam!”
“They weren’t trying to take us out. They were trying to take you out.” Ash, as usual not sugar-coating it, explained.
Um.
“Me?”
Ack!
“What else would you do after having that vision but run to try to save us and then, there you’d be…” Aidan broke in then trailed off.
“You and the bomb,” Ash finished.
Holy f**king shit.
Holy… f*cking… shit!
“But you two –” I started.
“Just motivation to get you there,” Aidan explained.
“And, undoubtedly, a bonus,” Ash finished.
Holy f**king shit.
I wanted to cry but it was too late, the coffee and donuts arrived.
Well, not donuts per se as Ash had a salmon and cream cheese bagel and Aidan had eggs, bacon and toast. I was the only who ordered a donut.
“So, they aren’t after Josie? They’re after me?” I asked then I asked more, “I thought Josie and Rory were the targets… why were they after me?”
“With you out of the way, Josie won’t be a problem,” Aidan explained.
“And, Mathilda, you’re always the target,” Ash added.
Great. I had, in fact, forgotten that part.
I thought back to crazy Josie who was at her wits end, screaming at Rory, seriously underweight and nearly poisoned by the time I came on the scene.
This was ruining the enjoyment of my donut and that was pissing me off.
“What the hell does she do that it’s worth blowing up a fricking street and anyone on it?”
Silence.
Okay, I’d had enough. I mean, bombs were exploding.
“Oh for goddess’s sake! Just tell me. I’m tired of this secret prophesies crap. What am I risking my ass, not to mention your asses for here? Hunh?”
More silence.
“Dammit!”
Okay, I shouted, and maybe that isn’t the thing to do in Patisserie Valerie as the trendy Londoners (because, make no mistake, this was not a tourist trap) started to stare… but tell me, what would you do?