The guard grunted as he drew the dooropen.
I stepped glumly past him into the dawn-tinted courtyard, leveling one last look at the statue gracing the middle of the fountain. A discrepancy on the woman’s shoulder made me circle her. Cracks and chips peppered her back, which was odd in comparison to how well preserved her frontwas.
“She used to have wings,” Tristan said, coming up behind me, “but Jarod destroyed them the day his mother died. Took a hammer to the statue screaming that angels wereassholes.”
A chill seizedme.
“He lost both his parents by the time he was eight, so you can imagine how it destroyed his faith in fantastical higherbeings.”
“What about you? Do you believe in higherbeings?”
A kind smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “Il y a bien trop de merde dans ce monde.”There’s too much shit in this world.“If anyone’s looking out for us, they’re doing a crap job of it. But, hey, if you believe in something, I’d be the last person tojudge.”
“Thankyou.”
“Forwhat?”
For restoring my faith in humanity.“For beingnice.”
His smile turned a little brisker. “That’s usually not the adjective associated to myperson.”
Beyond Tristan’s shoulder, a set of heavy drapes rippled as though someone had parted them before letting them fall. Was that the window in Jarod’s study or in the den infested withincubi?
“Our ride is outside.” Tristan’s voice stole my gaze from thehouse.
“Ourride?”
He started for the porte-cochère painted blood-red on the inside, too. “Jarod asked me to take you home, so I’m taking youhome.”
I hurried to catch up. “I can walk. I’d ratherwalk.”
He opened the door. “I’m sorry, Leigh, but if I disregard Jarod’s command, I’ll pay forit.”
I blanched. “Pay for it?How?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head with how Jarod punishesinsurgents.”
“You can’t say that sort of thing and expect menottoworry.”
He walked over to a dark town car not unlike the one that had brought his friend home. Perhaps, it was the sameone.
I trailed after him. “Tristan, do you fear for your life? I could help you getout—”
His brow furrowed, and then he burst out laughing. “I owe Jarod my life, Leigh. Besides, I enjoy what I do. Some might even say I’m good at it. If they were still around to speak about myfeats.”
He winked at me as though what he’d said was funny, but if the people were no longer around, then—Ishuddered.
He nodded to the back seat. “Getin.”
I wanted to refuse, especially after his last comment, but I swallowed my refusal and dipped into the car, incredibly grateful for being un-killable.
Once Tristan had settled in beside me, the white-haired driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “On va chez vous,Monsieur Tristan?”We go to yourhouse?
“Non.We’re going to drop off my companion. Saint-Germain,right?”
I gaped. “How—”
“That’s where tourists usuallystay.”
