Page 21 of Shift of Heart


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I preferred taking my bicycle for most deliveries, but some, like this one, required a vehicle. Moira offered to drive, but I declined. Getting over my fear required immersive therapy. Even if my knuckles were bone white as they clenched the steering wheel.

“You can afford a driver, you know,” Moira said quietly, as I took a corner going about 15 miles per hour.

The temp dropped about ten degrees—Tess’s way of silently agreeing. I’d never heard her wail, and I hoped I never would, because being in an enclosed space with her required sweaters and sometimes gloves. Hearing a full-on banshee wail might require a healer.

“She drives like a grandma on downers,” Ash muttered under his breath.

“Shut it,” I growled. “This is necessary.”

“Is it though?” Moira asked.

“I’ll get over my fear one day. I just need to take more out-of-town deliveries.”

“Or you could leave them to us and save us from your bad driving,” Ash said helpfully from the back.

“When you lose, I’m going to harvest all those apples and not give you a single slice of pie later,” I muttered.

“Cruel mistress,” Ash said with a sigh.

“I’m immortal, but I feel like I’m dying in slow motion,” Tess whined.

Moira barked a laugh. Tess so rarely made a joke, my lips twitched.

“Very funny.” But I added a bit of pressure to the gas pedal to keep the peons quiet.

It took twice as long as it should have, but we finally pulled up in front of a massive estate with wrought-iron gates. I gawked at the entrance as we slowly pulled up to the speaker and keypad.

“State your business,” a dry voice crackled over the speaker.

“Delivery for Mr. Wayne Jeffers. I’m Evie Quinn from Little Shop of Florals.”

The keypad beeped, and the gate swung open, revealing a large circular driveway.

“Guess we’re good,” I whispered.

“Make sure you go fast enough so the gate doesn’t close on the van,” Ash said.

“Piss off, tree.” I rolled through the gate in more than enough time, sending Ash a dark glare through the rearview mirror.

He snickered.

Moira rolled her window down and put her head out, gaping at the expansive house. “This place is crazy,” she breathed.

“Still think he’s cheating?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. More so now than before.”

I pulled up to the front door. Moira and Ash got out, but Tess elected to stay in the car. The sun was out today, though it was just setting behind the tree cover. Summer was Tess’s nemesis, and she rarely went out unless she had to. I never asked if it was a banshee or a Tess thing, and she never offered any information.

Moira and Ash each took a handle, gently extricating the basket from the seat.

“Watch the steps,” I cautioned, staying close behind them just in case one of them lost their balance. When we stood at the massive blue door, I gave the arrangement a last critical eye, providing a boost to a few petals a little worse for the wear after travel. Once I was satisfied every bloom was in the best possible shape, I turned, smoothed my hands down my blouse, and rang the doorbell.

While we were waiting for someone to answer the door, a shiny BMW pulled through the gate and parked behind our van. A tall, handsome man exited the driver’s side and hurried up the steps.

“Oh shit,” Moira whispered. “That’s Mr. Jeffers.”

“Here we gooooo,” Ash said with glee.