Page 77 of Of Flame and Fury
Liz watches Celia place the first gift on the floor. “Cheap bitches,” she mutters.
“Our hearts are in the right place,” Maria fires back.
“You need more than heart on a day like today,” Liz snaps. She points to Celia. “Look at her. Look at how fat she’s become carrying the savior of the world. Do you think when she prayed for a child, she asked for cankles too?”
Celia growls. “Ido nothave cankles.”
Celia’s comment cracks me up. The good Catholics have gifted her with used panties, forced apple juice down her throat, and worked hard to drive us mad. But it’s the “cankles” comment that causes her tigress eyes to replace her own.
Shayna laughs too. Even Emme tries hard to suppress her giggles.
Celia turns her tigress glare on us. “You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“Nope.”
“No way, dude.”
Theweresalso find somewhere else to look. I let out a sigh of relief when she blinks and her human eyes return. “Sorry,” Celia says. “I’m just a little tense.”
“It’s all those damn fat-making hormones,” Maria whispers. Like Celia can’t hear her.
Liz bumps Edith’s hip with hers and knocks her out of the way. “Our turn, bitches.”
As if rehearsed, Liz and Agnes sashay forward, lifting an office envelope over their heads with flare. They set it on top of Celia’s small belly, motioning their hands over it dramatically as if it materialized from nowhere.
Liz snaps her fingers. “This is how it’s done. Go ahead, Celia.”
The good Catholics have money. Loads of it. Misha makes sure of it. I’m thinking it might be a check or perhaps stock in one of Misha’s companies for the baby. I almost slap myself when I remember these are the she-vamps I’m talking about, ladies who flounce around all day dressed like naughty schoolgirls begging for a good hard spank on the ass. Oh, and they don’t disappoint.
Celia pulls out an index card, a cartoon of a baby scrolled in crayon on the back. Her nails protrude and withdraw in and out a few times, puncturing the corner of the card.
“Ah, what is it, Ceel?” Shayna asks.
Emme shakes her head. “I don’t think we want to know.”
Celia looks up, her breathing unusually pronounced. She forces an inhuman smile that has Liz taking several steps back.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asks. “You don’t like it?”
“Oh,I just love it,” Celia says.
Okay. Now she doesn’t even sound human.
Shayna starts to rise, changing her mind when a sound we’ve never quite heard from Celia sends her back to her seat. Liz is now standing near the entrance out, theweresjust behind her and the few witches who remained behind them with their staffs visible.
Ourwerebuddy from Liberia looks up and asks his friend something I don’t quite catch. His friend shakes his head after another glance at Celia, and everyone edges farther back.
Emme looks from the large group gathering near the door, to us, then back at Celia. Rather hesitantly, she stands and walks with her palms out to Celia.
Celia appears close to eating the poofy chair she’s sitting in.
“M-may I?” Emme asks.
When Celia doesn’t answer, Emme eases the card from Celia’s grasp, careful to avoid Celia’s claws. Her eyes widen as she reads it. She covers her mouth, appearing to read it again like she can’t believe it.
“Just tell us what it says,” I say. Really just how bad can this be?