“Please, Amir,” I said. “She’s just here to keep mecompany.”
He took Celeste in. “Myorders—”
“Can you at least askhim?”
Footsteps resounded, and then familiar blue eyes sparked in the obscurity of the covered porch. “I thought I heard yourvoice.”
My heart swayed with relief at the sight of Tristan and then with anguish. As I absorbed his easygoing smile, I decided the two girls I’d met in the Ranking Room had gotten erroneous information. He couldn’t have flogged an innocentFletching.
I smiled. “Hi, Tristan.” When I caught his gaze wandering over my shoulder toward Celeste, I said, “This is my sister,Celeste.”
Tristan inspected my friend. “Sister?”
Celeste narrowed her eyes, measuring Tristan right back. I was glad I hadn’t told her about his reputation, because she was far less trusting and forgiving than I was, and if she suspected Tristan of violence, she’d haul me away from the Court of Demons, Triple or noTriple.
“Yes,sister,” she said with a little growl. “You don’t see theresemblance?”
Tristan chuckled. “Now that you’ve opened your mouth, I do. Come on in,ladies.”
Amir’s lips shifted as though he were about to protest, but in the end, he simply squeezed them tight and went back to skimming the street and the endless line of people desirous to meet with hisboss.
Chapter 20
Celeste’s neckrocked from side to side and back to front as we walked through the courtyard where ivy and roses the color of fresh snow scaled the trellises drilled into the limestone walls. Jarod’s home seemed somehow less forbidding drenched in sunlight, more pretty castle than hauntedfortress.
UnlikeLa Cour des Démons, the stone angel appeared just as bleak in the light of day. Had Celeste noticed the chipped stone? From how fast her gaze whizzed off the statue and onto the grid of diamond-cut windows, I guessed the sliced wings had eluded herassessment.
Instead of going through the usual entrance, we entered through the set of French windows that gave onto the checkered marble foyer. The sight of the sweeping stairs made goose bumps burst over my skin. I rubbed my bare arms but stopped when Tristan’s eyes leveled on them before trailing to mynipples.
“Are you cold, Leigh? Would you like myjacket?”
“No,” I said quickly before adding an even brisker, “thank you,Tristan.”
His comment—or was it his stare?—drew Celeste nearer tome.
“Bonjour,Leigh.”
I spun around at the raspy yet femininevoice.
Reddened lips curving, Muriel stepped out from Jarod’s study, carrying a silver tray topped with a porcelain tea set. Her hair was swept back in another elaborate hairdo that glinted auburn in the sunlight bouncing off the crownmoldings.
Celeste glanced up at me to ascertain if Muriel was friend or foe. When I smiled back at Muriel, Celeste’s taut shouldersrelaxed.
A string of expletives had all of us turning toward Jarod’s study. The door swung open, almost unhooking from its shiny brass hinges. A thick man with sweat coating his flushed brow growled a particularly unsavory word as he yanked on the leash of a chihuahua whose tiny claws clicked nervously on themarble.
I pivoted toward Jarod, who was seated in one of his plush green armchairs, an arrogant smile tugging at his lips. I must’ve paled under the weight of his scrutiny, because Celeste stepped even closer, her shoulder brushing myarm.
Tristan gestured to the open door. “You ladies go on ahead. I’ll go collect the nextcandidate.”
As he plodded away, whistling, I swallowed, my throat alarmingly dry. I shot down my saliva a few more times but found no relief. It would probably only come once I leftLa Cour des Démonsand its dauntingowner.
I nudged Celeste into the high-ceilinged study. The patterned drapes on the two sets of French windows had been drawn open today, allowing light to bounce in. Where the room held fewer shadows, Jarod’s face did not. Even the ray of sun slashing across his dark irises and razor-sharp jawbone did little to brighten hisfeatures.
“How was your night,Feather?”
Again, I swallowed. Again, it did nothing to moisten my throat. “It was okay. Andyours?”
“Lonely.”
