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“He’s come here?”
I heard something I’d never heard before in Jude’s voice—a combination of excitement and anxiety. The blonde shook her head.
“No. His henchmen are here, though. Something big is going on. I think he could be—”
Suddenly, she went rigid, pulling a dagger lightning-fast from somewhere near her thigh. I froze. She sensed Flamma.
I glanced to my right and left, then back at them. Both Jude and presumably Kat were staring straight at me. Shock, then fury passed across those dark eyes I’d come to know so well. Without a second’s pause, he marched in long strides directly toward me, his eyes cutting to Malcolm before landing furiously back on mine.
To say I wasn’t terrified, as well as mortified for spying, would be a complete and total lie. Still, I held my ground, moving out of Malcolm’s arms and pushing my chin up a notch. I was getting good at acting. I fleetingly wondered if I should switch my major to Drama, or maybe Politics.
Then he was there. Whoa. Way inside my personal space. And Malcolm’s. Jet eyes staked me to the spot.
“Do you have a death wish?” His voice grated against my skin like sandpaper.
Malcolm pushed himself into the conversation. “Dude, excuse me. What are you doing?”
Malcolm made a hands-off gesture. He went to push Jude away but caught the look of death in Jude’s eyes and stopped himself.
Holy hell! What was I thinking? I’d brought Malcolm up here based on my own selfish desire to get some answers, and now I might be responsible for his untimely demise. I could see the headlines now in the Times Picayune:Twenty-year-old Student Spontaneously Combusts into Pile of Ash, Source of Death Unknown.
“Answer me, Genevieve. Why are you here?”
“You know this guy?” asked Malcolm, trying to cut in on the staring contest passing between us.
“We were just taking a walk,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. “This is—”
“Lie.”
“Jude, seriously, I was just—”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this place is for you?” He made a sound in the back of his throat that could’ve been a laugh if it weren’t for the expression of rage warring across his face. He glanced at my jacket with a shake of his head. “Little Red comes wandering in the woods infested with wolves.”
He was so close now our toes were touching. I inched back a step.
“Hey, dude! I don’t know who you are,” began Malcolm, putting an arm between us, “but you better back off.”
Jude fixed a glacier-melting gaze on Malcolm, standing at least a head taller. I swallowed, but there was no moisture in my throat. How had I gotten Malcolm into this?
“Kid,” Jude annunciated softly and slowly, a sure sign all hell was about to break loose, no pun intended. “You need to remove yourself and run along home now. Alone.”
He sounded as if he’d just dismissed Malcolm back to his playpen, an errant child being put in timeout.
“What?” Malcolm lowered his arm and turned to me. “You know this asshole?”
“Yes. Malcolm, um, this is a friend of, um, my dad’s. A work associate. From the dojo.”
I was stammering like an idiot. To say he was a friend of mine would’ve been laughable. Though he only appeared to be in his late twenties, he exuded maturity on so many levels. He in no way looked like a friend I might know from school, and for being a good liar, my brain was misfiring at the moment and not helping me come up with anything better.
Jude did not extend his hand in greeting. He did not welcome the introduction. He did not move an inch. As a matter of fact, I felt his presence swelling beyond the minuscule area where we stood, like a colossus breathing down on the pitiful people beneath his feet. He in no way appeared cordial or polite or even remotely human, for that matter.
I had to get rid of Malcolm before this became seriously ugly. I put myself between them, pushing Malcolm gently back.
“Thank you for the beignets and the company, but Jude can give me a ride home.”
“I’m not letting you go anywhere with this guy,” he protested.
Wrong answer. I heard another scoff behind me that was supposed to be a sort of laugh but wasn’t.
