“Where’s my kid, Red?” Jen asked.
Jacque chuckled, sounding nervous. “Well, that’s sort of a funny story.”
Decebel took a step toward her and held out his hand. She shook his head at him, refusing to give him the phone.
“That’s not the answer I was looking for. And I have to be honest, Jac, Dec is looking like he’s ready to tear this house apart.”
“She’s safe,” Jacque blurted out loudly enough that Dec no doubt heard it loud and clear.
“She’s with you and Sally?” Jen asked.
“That’s not what I said,” Jacque replied slowly. “You see, Sally and I could tell that you and Dec needed some privacy, and we wanted to have some quality time with our niece. We didn’t want to interrupt what appeared to be a very intense conversation.” Jen snorted at the description of her argument with Decebel. “So we just quietly grabbed Thia and her stuff and brought her to Costin and Sally’s place.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem?”
“Fane and Costin acted like typical males of their race.” Jacque huffed. “They said Decebel would flip his lid.”
“They weren’t wrong,” Jen pointed out.
“They should be arriving at your place any second. They took her from us to return her to you.” Jacque sounded put out, like a child who hadn’t gotten her way.
Jen watched as Dec walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the hall. His arms were folded across his impressive chest, and his feet were planted wide as he looked in the direction of Costin’s suite. After a minute, he looked over his shoulder at her.
“Um, Jacque, there are no werewolves coming down the hall carrying a baby,” Jen said, trying to keep her voice calm.
“You know Thia’s safe with Fane and Costin,” Jacque pointed out.
“That’s not really the point at the moment. The point is her daddy is not chill over the idea of her not being with us in our place.”
“Is he about to go category five on this place?” Jacque whispered.
“Might want to get back to Kansas, Dorothy. A tornado is coming,” Jen said as she ended the call and hurried after her mate, who was striding down the hall toward Sally and Costin’s suite.
“Remember they’re our friends, our pack,” Jen called out to him.
“Don’t care.” Decebel growled.
“Yes, you do,” she retorted. “You’re just having a fit.”
“I’m not a child, Jennifer. I don’t have fits.”
Jen laughed. “Really? You think you don’t have fits? Sorry, B, but you’re a world-class fit thrower. You could hold your own against a pissed off three-year-old.”
“And you’re a world-class stripper. We all have to have our talents, mate.”
Jen nearly stopped as her eyes widened at her mate’s back. Had he really just called her a world-class stripper? Did he have a death wish? Yes. Yes, he must have a death wish because that is the only reason he would say something so asinine.
“I’m going to temporarily forgive that statement because I believe you are under severe duress. I’m not sure you should be. Your freaking friends are playing with your kid. Oh, the horror,” she said, slapping a hand to her forehead and letting her eyes roll back in her head. “I mean, how dare they want to love on our child, the fools?”
“They should have asked,” Dec called over his shoulder. “You don’t just snatch someone’s kid. That’s called kidnapping.”
“Decebel, these aren’t creepers at a park that lured our kid away with a lollipop and the promise of an afternoon of playing with puppies. These are people we trust with our lives,” she pointed out.
“Maybe our lives, but not hers.” He reached Costin’s door and knocked.
The door opened, and Jacque and Sally both stood shoulder to shoulder smiling. They were the kind of smiles found on the faces of mental patients, not friendly, sane people. Jen nearly smacked herself in the face just to keep from smacking them in theirs.
“Hello, Decebel,” Jacque said, her smile growing wider. She was beginning to resemble an insane clown.
