Part 32 (2/2)

”What-”

No time to explain. We were running out of time. I'd already thrown back my shoulders, plastered a wide-eyed expression on my face and was running past the fae and toward Vaverek.

”Help. Oh, help!” I screamed like every Slasher movie I'd ever seen and with four brothers I'd seen a lot, regardless of what we'd told my dad. ”A bomb. There's a madman with a bomb.”

CHAPTER 64.

Jeb's s.h.i.+fter hearing caught the scream of a woman shouting beyond the salon's windows before the others did.

Alex?

He half rose from his seat, earning a glare from Cristobal. ”What are you- ”

”Listen,” he snarled, pus.h.i.+ng his chair back.

”I hear a woman,” Tintilla said, glancing toward the windows. ”What is she saying?”

”Bomb.” Jeb's voice was back under control, as were his emotions. It couldn't be Alex. Not here.

Still he hurried as he crossed to the window, looking out at the formal gardens stretched in front of the Pet.i.t Trianon. A lot of people ebbed and flowed over the gra.s.s, too many given the chateau itself wouldn't be open to the general public for over two hours.

”What's happening?” Pdraig pulled near him, leaning toward the window.

Jeb looked around, his heart locking as he sighted what he'd hoped not to see. Alex was running away from a trio of simin fae, the ones sent to escort the warlock into the meeting and two males behind them. She was shouting about a bomb. Others were starting to react, looking around, some groups already fleeing the area. The rest glancing wildly around.

But what Jeb noticed more was the lack of movement from several of the small groups. As if they too remained as frozen in place as the fae. Frozen or they knew more about what was really happening.

”The warlock?” Pdraig said as Cristobal joined them. ”The fae are there.” He pointed to the trio. ”The warlock looks like he's just beyond them. A ploy to escape them?”

”He knows the consequences,” Cristobal snarled, sounding shocked that anyone would be so stupid as to even dare disobey a summons to the Council.

From all the research Jeb had done regarding the warlock, stupid was not a word he'd apply to the dress designer. Calculating, focused, determined, yes, but not stupid, especially not to execute such an action within full view of the Council.

”What is transpiring?” Tintilla said, arriving at the next window over, Wei Pei by her side. ”Are we under attack?”

”Not us.” Jeb said, watching the individuals remaining in the gra.s.sy area begin to converge. In twos and threes they moved toward where Alex was arguing with a single gentleman. She was waving her hands, shouting, acting hysterical. Which was not her way. Not at all.

So what was she doing?”That woman appears to be pointing toward something,” the Koura demon said from one of the windows. ”She keeps shouting about a bomb.”

”Then why doesn't she run?” Tintilla said, shaking her head. ”Unless . . .” Her words petered off.

Wei Pie murmured quietly, ”Careful with others is a must have.”

”What?” Cristobal turned to focus a lasered look at him. ”Speak up.”

Wei Pei stepped back, shoving his hands into the sleeves of his cloak, which effectively hid them from too watchful eyes. Faces could lie, but hands often revealed too much. ”I said be cautious of people who may hurt you intentionally.”

Tintilla fluttered her hand before the window, ”What does that mean? Is she a threat or not?”

The Chinese s.h.i.+fter was correct. If Alex truly feared a bomb, she wouldn't be standing there arguing with a stranger. She'd cold c.o.c.k him, drag him out of harm's way and deal with the consequences later.

But she wasn't. So what . . . and that's when Jeb saw three men move from between the cone-shaped shrubs behind where the fae and the warlock stood. Three men and a wolf.

Van. Leashed with silver, snarling with rage, primed to attack.

That's what Alex was trying to do. Protect her brother.

Jeb was turned toward the door as he answered, ”She is a threat but right now she's being threated more.”

”By who?” Tintilla demanded.

”That's what I'll find out,” Jeb shouted as he dashed through the salon door, prepping to s.h.i.+ft as soon as he knew he could get outside of the building.

CHAPTER 65.

If I'd had any doubts about this individual being Vaverek they vanished as I drew closer, playing the crazy tourist to the hilt.

He barely blinked. Instead he waited, a smug twist to his lips as I drew closer and closer.

Others were scurrying away.

Thank the Great Spirits. The innocents might be safe, for a few minutes, though I doubted it'd last for long. Vaverek would find a way.

”Alex Noziak,” he said, as if we were meeting under normal circ.u.mstances. ”Very quick thinking. Though I expected no less from you.”

So he knew who I was? Or at least recognized me, which made my skin crawl.

I lowered my hands, saving my breath for whatever I'd need to do next. ”Vaverek, I presume?”

He inclined his head, not enough to break eye contact. I felt the same way, not trusting him more than I could throw him. Since he was a Were I knew it wouldn't be far.

”I did expect you to come a little better prepared,” he murmured. ”Very shortsighted.”

I gave him a smile meant to singe him, which seemed to work very well as his brows beetled. ”I see your arrogance is well earned,” I taunted.

He was right. Bran was busy. Willie was as useless as donkey t.i.ts and Francois was MIA. But I still had my tongue, which, if my brothers were to be believed, was as lethal as any weapon they'd ever faced.

Vaverek took a moment to look around. He must not have been too worried as he turned back to me, shaking his head. ”Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are playing way out of your league, Miss Noziak. A common enough error for Noziaks, it appears. Just ask your brother.”

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