14
Iwas once again standing on the porch of Grace's home. I looked a little worse for the wear these days, especially since I'd spent the last week convincing my parents not to disown me. Morgana had done quite a bit of damage to my bedroom and the family home, and she'd broken four of my ribs. All in all, from what Colin told me later (in a disturbingly admiring tone) was that I'd gotten off easy compared to some of the stories he'd heard about her.
But even worse than that, Morgana had confessed to calling Grace beforehand and telling her what I had done and contacted my mother as well. To add to that shit cherry on top, the sachet she'd given me hadn't contained even a hint of a love spell. Instead, the only thing of substance inside was a tracker which she used to project herself right into my bedroom where she'd destroyed my property and beat the ever loving hell out of me, extracting a promise I would grovel appropriately at the altar of Grace for as long as necessary.
Of course, I'd resolved to do that during my conversation with Colin, but Morgana's brand of convincing had only solidified my promise. After I'd healed, which usually happened a lot faster since I was a vamp but was delayed because Morgana had poisoned the fire with black garlic (one of the only things that could weaken us), I had to deal with my parents.
I wasn't disowned, but the cost to repair the family home would be taken out of my trust fund, and I had to find my own place to live within a month. My trust fund allowance would be cut in half. I could still live comfortably, but I could no longer afford to not worry about money.
I didn't dare ask Morgana for my money back. Even I was not that stupid.
Though Ihadbeen abominably stupid before. I hadn't even visited Marissa over the last two weeks, and I knew I needed to do that. All of this had started technically because of her and I hadn't even brought her groceries. As soon as I properly apologized for what felt like the hundredth time to Grace, I'd head over to her house.
I knocked and rang the doorbell, but there was no vehicle in the drive so I suspected she wasn't home. Either that or her car was glamoured because she was trying to avoid me. But I knew Grace well enough to know she confronted things direct. If she wasn't flinging open her door, unhinging her jaw and biting my head off, she probably wasn't home.
I got back in the car and headed to Portia Kadish. She had an...interesting relationship with my family, so I knew she would see me right away.
Portia did not look amusednor even a hint sympathetic about my sorry state. "Lucas," she said, and led me into her wood paneled office.
"Hello, Portia. I've come to discuss - "
She waved a hand at one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. "I know what you're here to talk about. I don't have an ounce of sympathy for the mess you've gotten yourself into." She steepled her hands in front of her face and looked at me, her green eyes piercing and intimidating. "Grace is a...handful."
I snorted at that one.
"I have no idea why she's so brass, but I have to admire her gumption. If she wants something, she is going to do her best to get it." She smiled at me and it wasn't friendly. "But here's the thing, Lucas. She doesn't want you. And even if she did at first, you've done so much stupid shit to her that it would take a divine miracle to get into her good graces again."
I bowed my head. "I know."
"That's not even counting the stunt with Morgana. If it had been up to me, I would have sent her with stakes and an ax. To dare to try to subvert someone's free will, not to mention screwing with one of my clients?" Her eyes went heavenward. "The bounds of your rampant stupidity are endless."
"I'm aware, Portia."
She shut her eyes and it appeared like she was counting to ten. "Then why are you here?" she asked after a moment.
"Because Grace elicits..." I paused, uncomfortable. "Feelings in me."
Portia snorted. "If that feeling makes your pants swell, it's called an erection, you tool."
I pressed my lips together to keep from snarling at her. "I'm well aware of what an erection is," I snapped. "Those are not - well, that isn't the feeling I'm speaking of."
"Let me guess. Grace doesn't give a crap about your status or where you came from and it disturbs you that she calls you out on your bullshit?"
I nodded. "Partially."
"This is called growing up, Lucas Marsh. And it's something your parents should have forced you to do years ago."
"I am aware. I would like the opportunity to speak to Grace but she will not return my texts. I suspect she's avoiding me. Again."
Portia's laugh was sweet and tinkling. "And you expect me to help you with that?" Her eyes went from emerald to gold. "Listen to me very carefully, Lucas. I am not human. Nor am I weak. I choose to meddle in love lives because I can see the outcomes of those attraction lines. I chose you. I know you didn't want to be chosen and you fought against it tooth and nail, but it would have happened anyway. Maybe not as disastrous as this way, but still, Grace would have been in your life. However, I cannot affect someone's stupid, immature decisions, and now this is your disaster to clean up. If you want her, you need to show her. Drop your arrogance. Drop your pretenses. Drop your ego and tell her you need her."
I bristled. "I don't need her."
The gold abruptly dropped from Portia's eyes. "Then you don't need me. Admitting our weaknesses is the first step in any relationship. You are still not ready. I will not make Grace see you." She leaned forward. "You know what I do. You know how good I am at it. Your mother and father are the product of that. Considering you are here today, you know what I think you and Grace are. If you are not ready to accept that, I will move on. There is never one possibility in someone's life. There might be one better, but Grace deserves better than the man you are right now. We both know it."
With a flick of her fingers, I was tossed out of her office and onto the sidewalk of the Deadication Dating Agency.
Was this the month of women kicking my ass or something? I rubbed the back of my head and slammed my other fist into the concrete, making a large spiderwebbed mark in the concrete.
