“Saved me from committing a felony,” Murielmuttered.
“Mimi!” Jarodgasped.
“What? You don’t think I’d be capable of murder? Do you think your uncle hired me because I was good with baby bottles and whisks? He hired me because he’d heard I’d put a bullet through my abusive father’sbrains.”
Jarod’s body stilled beneath mine. “You never told methat.”
“And I’ll never tell either of you any more about it.” Her lips pinched at the memory. “Now, I’ll go call the undertaker. You two go back inside and get rid of your guilt. I won’t have you moping around the house, Jarod. I raised a tough man. Agoodman. And I couldn’t be prouder about what you did today, and I’m not talking about—” She cocked her head toward thecourtyard.
Jarod gulped. “How did youhear?”
She tapped one finger over his scrunched brow. “You really think anything in this house escapes me?” She pressed a kiss where her finger had been, then turned andleft.
Somewhere below us, the guards spoke in hushed tones but turned silent when Muriel started barkingorders.
“And here I thought I was the big boss,” Jarodmumbled.
Even though so many things about this moment were terrible, I smiled. “I better not get on her bad side, huh?” I bumped his nose withmine.
Hegrunted.
“Jarod, what was she talking aboutbefore?”
He gave a heavy sigh. “Evidence surfaced today. Enough to revive a cold case and destroy a political career.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “The prime minister”—his gaze set on the stone guardrail, and I knew he was thinking of Tristan—“he’s going away for a long time. Forever, really. Tristan wasn’t on board with my decision and stormed out of the meeting. I should’ve followed him sooner. Before . . .” His thick lashes swooped over his reddenedeyes.
I kissed histemple.
For a long beat, neither of us spoke. Then, I sighed. “And I should’ve tried to helphim.”
His lashes lifted. “He wouldn’t have accepted your help, Feather. He was much too proud to accept anyone’s help. Especially a woman’s.” Jarod examined my throat, then caressed it, and although my skin felt raw, his touch was soothing. “They didn’t come forhim.”
“Who?”
“The . . . what did you call them again?Malahim?”
“Malakim. Killing us . . . well, trying to, is a greatsin.”
“Right. . .” He was probably remembering how he’d earned his rank. “So, his soul is . . .lost?”
“I thinkso.”
Jarod nodded slowly. “What about myuncle’s?”
I tugged my lip inside my mouth, unwilling to answer him and add to hissorrow.
He looked up at the sky. “If I ever end up there, I’ll know noone.”
“Can we not talk about you ending up there?Please?”
He pulled in a big breath. “You’re right. Enough.” He pushed the air back out of his lungs as he stood, taking me up withhim.
I didn’t think he’d finished grieving for Tristan. You didn’t get over someone who’d shared your life for so many years in the space of a few minutes, not even if you were used todeath.
Jarod’s grief was just beginning, and however tough Muriel had raised him to be, he’d break again, and I’d be there, and so would she. Together, we’d pick up the pieces of his guilty heart and glue them back until the day came when he’d stop blaminghimself.
Chapter 58
The following morning,we dressed in black and left at daybreak, not on our trip. At least, not any trip that required a suitcase. We drove to the Montparnasse Cemetery. Tailed by Luc, Amir, and two other bodyguards, we walked down a long road lined with gravestones, mausoleums, and lindens in fullbloom.
