Page 12 of Reflections of Peonies
Julian tilted his head, and the weight of his attention was almost suffocating. “Why?”
Why in the world was he talking about this now?
“I just don’t!” I snapped. My attention turned to the lapel of his shirt. This was a stupid conversation.
“Bianca.” His soft voice urged me to face him. “Were you afraid of us when we first met?”
I narrowed my eyes. He sure had a short memory.
“I’m not talking about you being intimidated by Titus,” Julianclarified, a smile touching his expression before it vanished. “We were quite forward. Did we ever overstep and scare you?”
My breath caught. This was the strangest line of questioning ever. It was true that their actions had stood out to me. But, even for me, my easy acceptance of the affection had felt strange.
“No,” I told him. I looked away and began to twist the plastic hospital bracelet around my wrist. “I like it, even with Titus,” I admitted in a near whisper.
Julian hooked his finger under my chin, lifting my face, and it was his turn to raise his eyebrow. “Titus scared you. You maced him, kicked him in the balls, and ran away.”
“Because hefeltscary!” My voice squeaked. I couldn’t believe we were talking about this. “But it was different when he held me. I wasn’t scared. I was only worried that he might drag me into the Mafia underworld and murder me.”
“Titus isn’t in the Mafia. It’s not the same,” he replied, still watching me, and his face was pinched in concern. “Even so, he would never hurt you. Are you sure you’ve never had a problem?”
What was that supposed to mean? I wanted clarification, but Julian seemed stuck on this touching topic. I didn’t know why he was suddenly so obsessed.
So, I tried to reflect honestly. Titus had held me a lot, and there had even been a time when I had only worn a towel. But…
I shook my head. I hadn’t been afraid. I wasn’t sure how to describe how it made me feel, but it wasn’t normal. “I wasn’t scared,” I told him. “Is that weird?”
Why did he look so relieved?
“No,” Julian said, tapping my nose. “Not if you consider our past bonds. Whatever made you have this fear in this life, you’ve had lifetimes of memories with us. Even if you don’t recollect that connection, your subconscious does.”
What was he talking about? Still, the pressure against mychest seemed to lift. It made sense that there was a logical explanation for my behavior.
And now, on to more important things.
“If Titus isn’t part of the Mafia, what is he?”
“Not Mafia,” Julian responded, breaking off another piece of cake and lifting it to my lips. “It’s more like a collaborative.”
Acollaborative. That explained nothing.
But I couldn’t ask. I could only watch Julian with suspicion as he kept shoving food in my mouth. He was avoiding the subject, and I held back his hand after three more pieces. “What collaborative?”
Julian sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s shifter business. We stay out of each other’s work. You’ll need to ask Titus.”
Oh, I would.
Collaborative shifter business that was not Mafia, but was probably the same thing. I freaking knew it.
What in the world did Titus do all day? “Does he kill people?”
“Maybe?” Julian shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never asked.”
He totally killed people.
Even if Julian had never asked, he obviously suspected. Visions of Titus slaughtering his enemies while covered in their blood danced through my mind.
Did he wear a suit while doing his ‘shifter business’? Or maybe that’s what the plaid was for.
