Page 41 of Protect Your Queen

Ihad a hunch that big brother was big-time pissed. He glowered at me with enough menace that I should have been scared for my life - or, at least, my job. But I had just had one of the most pleasant conversations of my life. I should be worried because of Elyse, and because of all the things I had riding on this gig, but…

We had talked about music. She had sung. And even if I had only played with two fingers of my right hand… I hadplayed.That was more than I had done after years of therapy – both behavioral and physical. So getting caught shirtless and almost kissing his sister was worth it, as long as I didn’t lose my job.

Jareth prowled towards me like an angry wolf. He walked around me as if I was a hunter getting too close to his cub, and he was ready to go for the throat.

“Let me make one thing clear,help.” Well, that nickname was better than pretty boy, so I’d take it.

He stood before me, tall and imposing. Not literally tall. Toe-to-toe, I had a few inches on him. But from the bench, he looked like the devil unfurling to his full size.

Rimsky-Korsakov’s “Night on Bald Mountain” should be playing in the background.

Hell, I would have played it on the piano for comedic effect if I had the use of two good hands.

That was probably for the best because he looked pissed.

He still wore his button-down and suit trousers. Had he slept at all?

“I have disposed of better men than you for my sister,” he said as he took a few calculated, slow steps toward me. “If you so much as harm a single hair on her, I will break you beyond all recognition, then dump you, alive, into a school of sharks. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

I came to my feet, so that we could be chest to chest. I looked down my nose at him, bristling at his accusation. How dare he say that I would ever hurt her?

I should back down, placate, and de-escalate the situation. But the idea that I would ever harm her was just ludicrous. It was insulting. I would sooner break the Heintzman Crystal piano than harm my little Songbird.

“Just so I make myself understood to you,” I said flatly, “I would never harm her, or anyone else in my care.”

Be professional, Chris. You need this job. Elyse needs you to have this job. Don’t fuck it up over a pretty voice.

“See that you don’t,” Jareth’s long, bony finger poked me in the chest. “Because getting rid of you will cost me nothing but an apology to an old classmate.”

My skin heated, as I restrained my need to fight – for my dignity, for my job, for the Songbird that had slipped quietly into the other room.

“Well, it would probably cost labor. I haven’t historically been easy to kill.”Stop being a smart-ass, Chris, before he really does kill you.

I fisted my right hand, where the scar was making itself known again. A hand-to-hand knife fight with an insurgent had killed my dreams. But it hadn’t killed me.

“You haven’t met a man like me before now,” Jareth sneered.

He was right. I hadn’t met a man like him before. I had known killers, mercenaries, warlords. None had ever been so successful, or high functioning, as the man who stood before me. Most killers couldn’t work within society, but Jareth could.

“That is true.” I stepped towards him. “I respect your protectiveness over your sister. I am the same way about mine.”

I don’t threaten to kill my sister’s male companions untilaftershe’s dumped them, though. Potato, po-tah-toe.

“I doubt that,” he said, dropping his hand to his side. “You have no idea what I have done to get us here.”

That almost sounded like a confession… but I had no interest in being hispriest.

Jareth turned and strode back to the door he’d emerged from, the light turning him into nothing but a black silhouette again.

“If you don’t rip out my guts,” I called after him, with a small smile, “I’m sure your other sister will.”

He paused, his hand on the doorknob, ready to slam it closed in my face. But something changed his mind. “You signed an NDA, yes?”

He knew as well as I did that it was signed, sealed, and delivered with Caledonia’s iron clad guarantee of discretion that was good worldwide.

“I know what my job is,” I said, feeling the stress of his animosity. “I don’t fail when I start on a task.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” he said, his long arm extending to the side. “That’s what worries me.”

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