Page 100 of Devil in Her Details

“I’m with Saint on this,” Dagger said.

“What did that playwright fellow say?” Saint asked flatly. “That which we call a reckless madman by any other name would smell as rotten.”

Reaper gasped mockingly. “You know Shakespeare? I’m shocked, frère. Who knew we had such an educated brother in our ranks.”

“It’s a well-known verse.”

Dagger nodded. “You’re the only fool amongst us.”

Reaper spread a hand across his chest as though mortally wounded. “Betrayal. From my own blood.” He glanced around the room as if seeking a sympathetic witness. “Knight. Back me up.”

Knight, behind the bar, was entirely focused on the paper spread out before him and did not so much as look up. “No.”

Reaper scowled. “How can you say no to a brother in distress? Did you not hear what these two shites said?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Knight turned a page. “The answer’s still no.”

“Give up,” Dagger muttered, returning his gaze to Lilly when she laughed merrily. The beautiful sound that made his heart uncomfortable. Just what were those three conspiring? He had to hold himself back from walking over and attaching himself to her. But he had already acted like a brute once today before his brothers. They hadn’t said anything with their mouths, but their eyes were another bloody matter. There was still something very satisfying to have her here, in the same room with all of his family. Like she was family.

“Giving up is not in a man’s nature.” Reaper turned toward the spot where Maxen and Drake had taken up in a corner, also facing their women.

Dagger arched a brow. What they were discussing so deeply, God only knew. Marriage things, probably. But whatever it was, Drake looked amused and Maxen looked constipated.

Before Reaper could open his mouth, Drake said without looking over, “Don’t.”

Undeterred, Reaper swiveled in his chair, craning his neck toward the opposite window where Serpent had positioned himself with a drink.

“Frère.”

“No.”

Reaper turned back to the table with a long-suffering exhale. “A man is surrounded by brothers and receives not a shred of support.” He shook his head mournfully. “It’s a tragedy. Someone ought to script a play about it.”

Saint rapped him over the back of his head.

“Someone ought to gag you,” Dagger muttered.

“Serpent’s tried a few times,” Saint said. “It never takes.”

Dagger wasn’t touching that.

“You still have to name your firstborn after me, frère.”

No one was naming any children Reaper. He forced his gaze back to his brother. But even looking at Reaper’s mug, he was still maddeningly aware of the laughing lynx across the room. He didn’t even need to have eyes on her to know she was there. Her presence danced all over his skin.

Reaper propped his chin on his hand, studying him with that particular glint Dagger had come to associate with incoming chaos. “Besides, frère, I think it’s good thinking about these things since you have a pretty chaton at your side.”

“Don’t call her that.”

Reaper perked up. “Why? Do you even know what it means? I may not be the smartest of us lot, but I still speak French.”

Dagger glared at his brother. “I know what it bloody means, I’m not a fool, and you’re just not allowed to call her that.”

“Just pretend he doesn’t exist,” Saint muttered.

Lilly laughed again, and Dagger looked over. She was leaning forward, saying something to the other women, something that made both women dissolve into laughter alongside her. Her cheeks were flushed with wine, and she looked, quite simply, like she belonged exactly where she was.

Which was a bloody problem.