“So how’s it going?” Diesel said to Wulf. “How’s Aunt Sophie?”
Wulf turned his head toward Diesel and looked amused but didn’t go so far as a smile. His features were sharper than Diesel’s. Diesel’s eyebrows were fierce, and Wulf’s eyebrows were raven wings. Wulf’s nose was straight, his mouth was not as wide as Diesel’s but oddly sensuous, his skin was ghostly pale.
Hatchet was sifting through ashes in what used to be Lenny’s kitchen. He looked our way and unsheathed his sword. “Sire,” he said, “dost thou need my protection? Are these crude and lowly persons bothersome?”
“Continue your search,” Wulf said, his voice soft, his face devoid of expression. Only the barest whisper of a sigh hinted at his foul mood.
“It would be awkward if he found it while we were both here,” Diesel said to Wulf. “We’d have to wrestle for it.”
“I always won when we were kids,” Wulf said. “I doubt much has changed.”
“Everything has changed,” Diesel said.
Wulf considered that and looked away, keeping his focus on Hatchet.
“Where’s Lenny More?” Diesel asked.
“He told me what I needed to know, and I released him.”
“Unharmed?”
“More or less.”
Diesel followed Wulf’s eyes to Hatchet. “Nice minion you’ve got there. What do they call that thing he’s wearing? Is that a tunic?”
“Is there a point to this?” Wulf asked.
“Just hangin’ out,” Diesel said.
Wulf glanced at my hand. “You’re hanging out with a woman wearing my brand.”
“Cows get branded,” Diesel said. “Women, no. And she’s with me.”
“For now, cousin.”
“Forever.”
“We’ll see,” Wulf said.
His eyes locked onto mine, and for a long moment, I was held captive with no clue to his thoughts. What I knew for certain was that I saw power and passion. I stepped back into Diesel, relieved when I felt him pressed into my back, his hand at my waist.
“I should be moving along,” I said, making an effort not to gasp for air, praying my voice wasn’t shaking. “The monkey is waiting.”
Omigod, I thought. Did I just say the monkey is waiting to the liege lord of evil? I’m such a dork!
“Methinks a dastardly event occurred here, sire,” Hatchet said, standing in a cloud of soot in the vicinity of Lenny’s dining room. “I fear infidels have sacked the keep.”
“I suppose that would be us,” Diesel said. “We sacked the keep.”
I waved at Hatchet. “Farewell, good knight. Fear not for the infidels.”
“Safe journey, fair lady,” he called back.
“Considerate of you to think of Carl,” Diesel said to me, grinning, his arm draped across my shoulders, moving me toward the Porsche.
“I panicked.”
“It’s okay. The party was over.”