Page 27 of The Cruelest Undead
And Jolie, if they start acting weird, put them down. They might not be the people Flynn remembers. I know how hard that is to hear.
There was a wail of pain, proving Flynn could hear them.
I’m sorry, Mon Amour,Jacques whispered back into the void.I really am.
She stared at him like he lost his mind even thinking that, let alone asking that of her.
Jolie stared at him, but said nothing out loud.
You want me to kill Flynn’s parents? Are you insane, Death? He’ll never forgive me if I do that, and I kinda like having aHUSBAND.
He was honest.
And that might be what’s going on. Fate is a bitch. She might be trying to cause shit between you and Rinnon. If he loses you, he’ll be weak. Rinnon won’t fare well, and his vessel won’t put up a fight.
He was right.
Damn it.
“Got you,” she said, as Death walked through a wall and out of there. Jolie tried to reach Flynn, but he wouldn’t let her through.
Now, he was really locked down.
As she watched it happen, Flynn’s mother gasped.
“What the hell is he? And what the hell is going on?” she asked. “I’m getting tired of asking that over and over again. Who can answer it for me?”
Lordy, but it appeared she was going to be having this conversation with Flynn’s mother.
She never expected to have to do this.
Now, here she was.
Because she assumed they were going to be more vampyre than human, Jolie went to the stove and turned on a kettle of water.
Yes, she could have just waved her hand, but she was trying to keep the two people calm. This was normalcy, and she knew her husband.
So she knew them.
Well, as much as she could.
“We’re going to have to sit down and have a little talk,” she said, making cups of tea. “How about I make us some tea, and we get to know each other?” she asked.
Jolie was pumping the room with calming energy to keep this situation handled.
The older version of her husband moved closer.
“Can I have coffee?” Flynn’s father asked. “I don’t like tea.”
Ah, like father like son.
Only, if he was a vampyre, and drank coffee, it might just kill him—if he could die.
Yeah, this was a slippery slope.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any here,” she said, lying her ass off.
Flynn drank coffee all the time, but he was not fallible to it.
