Page 104 of Triple Threat

Gwendolyn Kaijin was sitting two tables over, sipping a flute of champagne and giving me the hottestfuck meeyes that I had ever seen burn in a woman’s skull.What in the fuck was she doing here?Her and the rest of the French heroin dealers were supposed to be long gone from the US. She let her eyes float across Roan and Sadie, and I felt a stab of hostility. I didn’t want to fuck her, I wanted to gouge her smoldering eyes out with the escargot fork.

She wasn’t alone, and the disturbing thing was that I didn’t recognize the people she was dining with. Something was up, and at this point the only good thing was that there was nothing they could do here. Of course, that meant I couldn’t do anything either.

I caught the waiter and had him take her a drink. It was actually surprising that he knew what aveiled insultwas, but I wasn’t surprised that they had everything, even the Benedictine liquor. It wasn’t long before the drink was delivered to her table, in what looked like a very fashionable glass. It was pretty.

Her face was pretty, right up until she took a sip of the concoction. Then those perfect lips snarled in disgust. Her eyes were daggers when she looked back at me, and I lipped a kiss at her. Every horrible thing I had ever done to a woman, every self-gratifying, denigrating, humiliating thing I had done, I wanted her to feel that. I was surprised at the depth of my hostility.

What was this?

I had no reason to hate her, she was gorgeous.

She had no morals, no scruples. She would do whatever she had to get what she wanted.

Gwendolyn Kaijin was everything that I had wanted before Sadie.

The revelation hit me like an anvil dropping from the sky.

I loved Sadie. I loved Roan, too… in a different way, and I especially loved the thing we had become. I would die to protect that, to protectthem.

I would likewisekillto protect that.

“Everything okay, mate?” Roan asked. “Did they fuck up the crèmes?”

“No, no,” I said. I didn’t want to upset anyone, this could wait. “I just thought of something that we need to talk about later,” I gave him a look. Hopefully he wouldn’t push the matter. He didn’t, but I knew wewouldtalk about it later. My steak tasted like ash, and when the dessert course came around, I passed on sweets in favor of a straight gin.

I would have stabbed someone in the head if I could have had some of the Tobacconist’s battleship gin right now. I shuddered at the thought of grabbing Gwen by the back of her head and driving the point of a knife up through her jaw, into the soft palate, and then into her poisonous brain. Thankfully Roan and Sadie were far more interested in the dessert cart.

She was laughing when he showed her how to shatter the crust on the crème brûlée. He was likewise amused by the presentation of a petite croquembouche, just a foot tall instead a full three feet. We shared the pastries, and Sadie insisted that I try her crème brûlée.

It was good.

Just like the glee on her face when she shared the dessert with me.

When I looked back at Kaijin, her look could have cracked a mirror. It was pure hatred. It was more than that, it was jealousy. I felt a crack splinter through the monument of hatred I had for her.There was jealousy.

She was glaring venom at me, as Sadie decided she wanted to dip one of Roan’s pastries in her crème brûlée and put the bite in my mouth. No one had ever done that with her, no one ever would, because she was a poisonous fucking snake, and deep down, every guy would know it.

I covered the check when it came, not letting either of them see how much the meal cost. Even Roan wouldn’t know, I paid cash, so he wouldn’t even see the total on a monthly statement. He would be thinking about that, and we could get up and leave without making a scene. Sated and stuffed, we were in the first group of people who excused themselves. One of the crazy things about places like Chevalier was that guests were seated in flights, so that the kitchen was able to deliver food and service that was worth hundreds of dollars per seating.

Kaijin and the rest of her cronies were in a different flight. As we were leaving, I was able to get a look at the others at the table. I recognized Ajahi, he stood out. Malmaison was harder to pick out, being a stereotypical Anglo-Germanic Aryan wanna-be.

Then I saw the old man, Guillame Chauvignon,le Generale.The bastard was in Indigo City, his face as hard as old oak, and an expression that would make battery acid seem sweet. Late sixties, close cropped white hair, a similar short dusting of white beard and mustache. He wasn’t wearing one, he hadn’t shaved recently. Long flights and jet lag would do that to a man.

He was wanted in the US, by several different agencies. Some of them large, powerful, and highly influential.

This was fuckingbadif he was here personally.

I took the rear position and ushered Roan and Sadie toward the door. It was hard not to rush, I wanted to linger and admire her ass in the splendor of her jeans or linger over another glass of some unimaginably haute liquor.

* * *

I toldRoan to drive when we got back to our car while Igot somethingfrom the trunk. That something was a gun, an Ingram Mac-10 chambered for .45 ACP. It countered its less than stellar accuracy with a blistering rate of fire, which was fairly useful in the case of car chases. Luck was often as much a factor as skill in those circumstances.

The gun presented a small bulge when I got into the passenger seat.

“Everything okay?” Roan asked, noting it.

“Yes, it’s okay. We should probably take a sightseeing tour before going home,” I said, meeting his eyes. There was a flicker of recognition. He would get the details later, but he knew that I didn’t want us to go straight to the manse. I wanted to make sure that we weren’t followed.

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