Aba was gone.
I massaged my temples to clear my thoughts. He’d be back in a week from the old country after clearing up some marriage paperwork. I had to keep busy.
I picked up my purse to leave when a man stumbled in.
He was as unkempt and golden as my Aba was groomed and dark. His long, greasy tresses draped across his shoulders. His clothes, ripped and dirty, barely hung on his gaunt frame
Tag - Susan Lyttek
Aba was gone.
I’d been studying the atmosphere for years now. Years. All in the hopes of establishing the data to corroborate the impossible.
But I should explain, I suppose. Over forty years ago, I was born under a perfect dragon storm. According to the experts, that happens only once every hundred years. But I knew it happened more often than that.
Holding my dress up so I wouldn’t trip, I dashed toward the door. I could already hear the bridal anthem. Of course, Samara Spade would be late for her own wedding. But the church kept slipping farther and farther away.
I woke up and groaned.
We’ll have dinner soon, Buddy,” Babe insisted.
I couldn’t see what she was dicing on the counter. I sniffed. Beef maybe?
The phone rang. “Wait a minute. I’ve got to answer this.”
I groaned. I tugged at her arm, trying to remind her about our dinner, but she shooed me away. Babe liked to talk.
Name’s Spade, Samara Spade. And much to Mom’s chagrin, I’m following in my Dod’s—dear old dad’s—footsteps.
Or at least attempting to. After my fiasco with the lion, I wondered if Dod would give me another case. For weeks, I did paperwork. Yawn.
Dod was off on another case when he came in. “I didn’t do it!”
My name is Spade. Samara Spade. Tonight was supposed to be my first undercover without Dod—dear old Dad, in other words. But I had backup. At least until someone slipped him a mickey.
The case started this morning. A lady—I’m still trying to get Dod not to call them dames—came into our office distraught.
The duke tilted his head back to gaze up at my masterpiece as he patted my shoulder. “Our cathedral will be both the tallest and the best in all of Europe with your clockwork show, Hans.”
“We’re ready for the reveal tomorrow, Your Grace. We’ll run through everything tonight to make sure it’s flawless.”
“There’s another one, boss.”
I peered at my monitor screen. Sure enough, the telltale shooting star effect had almost gotten past me. We angels are not incapable of error, unfortunately. Gripping the controls with renewed enthusiasm, I cornered and contained the time bubble. When I heard the satisfying click of the “Save” button, I sighed. “Almost missed that one.”