I didn’t like the way he was watching Jarod and stepped closer to my sinner. I wasn’t supposed to interfere, but I also wasn’t going to sit back and watch men rip each other apart. Especially when I was immortal, and Jarodwasn’t.
The man’s gaze sparked with amusement at the sight of me. “Cute bodyguard,” he said, which earned him Tristan’s elbow in the temple and which earnedmea hard scowl fromJarod.
A few years ago, I’d stepped in front of a yellow cab and gotten flung several feet in the air to protect a child whose mother had pushed out the stroller without checking for oncomingtraffic.
Even though Jarod might’ve believed me useless, I knew Iwasn’t.
A barked “What?” rose from the cell phone Earring-guy was holding up, stealing Jarod’s attention away fromme.
The Demon Court lord cracked his knuckles. “Been a while,Mehdi.”
Silence answeredhim.
“You never drop by to visit anymore,” Jarodcontinued.
“Jarod?” Mehdi’s voicehitched.
“I was afraid you’d forgotten about me.” The ghost of a smile floated over Jarod’s lips. “You’re overdue for avisit.”
The guy Tristan had hit rubbed his temple, green eyes slitted like asnake’s.
Mehdi cleared his throat. “I’ve beenbusy.”
Jarod ran his gaze over the three men before him. “I can seethat.”
“I was planning on ringing you this week,actually.”
“Were you now? How delightful. I’ll tell Tristan to look out for your call. Oh, and congratulations, I heard you landed a very profitable wedding for your eldest daughter. Should I send my gift to her honeymoon suite in the Seychelles or to her apartment on AvenueMatignon?”
“How—” Mehdi sputtered but stopped himself from voicing the rest of his question. He was probably wondering how Jarod knew where his daughter washoneymooning.
“Were you planning on informing me about your little side business?” Jarodasked.
The guy next to Green-eyes shifted on his stool, casting glances around him. I became acutely aware of how quiet the restaurant had become. I looked over my shoulder to find Sasha and his wife huddled in a corner, the only remaining people besides us. I hoped that Jarod’s offer to comp meals would make the customers forget the heated altercation and return, if not tonight, thensoon.
“I was—it’s not—” Mehdi was unable to string full sentencestogether.
“La Cour des Démonsdoesn’t condone racketeering, but you know that, don’t you?” Jarod continued, sounding as censorious as Ophan Mira when she would catch me reading one of my human novels. “I expect you’ll return the funds you’ve confiscated from all the establishments you’ve been hitting up for the pastyear.”
There was a loud bang on the other side of the phone as though Mehdi had punched something. Green-eyes’s attention flicked to one of his buddies before skipping back toJarod.
“Earlier today, your son graciously provided Tristan with a detailed list of the restaurants and cafés you’ve sent your littleemissariesto raid. Tristan will be contacting them one by one to confirm they’ve recovered their funds before our meeting.” A string of muffled swear words made Jarod smirk. “I can’t wait to see you too, oldfriend.”
At the same time as the phone screen went dark, the green-eyed guy bounded off his seat, snatched my wrist, and rammed me against his front. His beefy arm wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air out. I clawed at his skin, wheezing. He backed away, dragging me with him, then seized a bottle from a table and swung it against the back of a chair. Red wine splashed over the floor and sprayed my bare ankles, dribbling inside myshoes.
The guy pushed the razor-sharp edges of the bottle against my collarbone. “You shoot us, I slice her neck.” Rancid-smelling spittle smacked mycheek.
Jarod’s eyes became as black as the barrel of the gun Tristan was pointing at the two others. “I wasn’t planning on shooting any of you, butnow. . .”
The man choked me harder, and the room wentgrainy.
“Don’t,” I murmured. To my attacker and to Jarod. I didn’t want to be the cause for bloodshed. Bloodshed would erase all the good Jarod had done tonight. Even if it wasn’t his finger on the trigger, if he ordered thehit—
“Putain, lâches la meuf, Mo!” Earring-guy shouted. To beg his friend to release me meant he sensed this wouldn’t end well for the three ofthem.
When stars danced at the edge of my vision, I summoned my wings. They wouldn’t help me fly out of the man’s grasp, but my wing bones would press him back like an invisible hand, hopefully lending me enough room to wriggle out. As they burst from my shoulder blades and my feathers snapped out, air trickled back down my throat, sharpening myvision.
“What the—” The man sputtered as I twisted around and shoved my palms into his torso. I wasn’t supposed to use violence, unless underduress.
