Page 25 of Sonata
“You see, Josephine…” that time, I did turn, my gaze finding my mate immediately. Her emerald eyes were wide, full of wariness, hope, fear, glossy with unshed tears that slew me. I could see she was holding her breath while the other two females were clinging to her arms.
“I found my true home, and it is neither you... nor it is Paris, I’m afraid.” Viola’s sharp intake of breath made me smile tenderly at her. “It is the heart of a female that is smart, brave, and the most magnificent creature I have ever laid eyes on. The gods cannot compare to her. You stand no chance to lure me away.”
“Lucien.” Tears were trickling down my mate's cheeks that I wanted to kiss away, but life waited on no one.
“Die!” Josephine shrieked from behind me, and I felt the breeze shift when she moved.
Something sailed next to my head, and I had no time to react before she screamed in pain.
“Stay away from him, you bitch.” I turned to see Viola’s shoe, the heel embedded into Josephine’s shoulder where she was on her ass on the street. “I’m tired of crazy people thinking they can force others to do what they don’t want.” My mate stepped up next to me.
The assassins spread out, ready for a fight.
“Stay back with Moël, little Muse. This will get bloody any second now.” I glared at my uncle, who looked too amused for my liking.
Josephine was back on her feet, glaring daggers at Viola. That female was always a little too ambitious for her own good. She had the face and the body but not much in the head to make it a whole package. If Josephine thought to compare herself with my mate, she already lost her battle.
“Oh, I’ll stay back, but I’m going to fight along with you.” My head snapped to stare at Viola. “Did you forget I learned a new trick?” she wiggled her violin between us. “You go kick their ass, Mr. Sunshine. I’ll provide the background music.”
Étienne choked. “Mr. Sunshine? Lucien?” he stared at my mate as if she’s lost her mind.
“You haven’t seen him pirouetting through walls while grinning like a psycho.” Viola giggled as she walked backward, not taking her eyes off mine. “The best Swan Lake performance in history has nothing on him, I swear. He is pure joy.”
Throwing my head back, I laughed when Étienne’s eyes almost popped out of his skull.
That’s how I ended up clocked on the side of my jaw with a boot.
A shrill sound dropped us all on our knees, covering our ears, so our heads don’t explode from the pressure building at the forehead.
The witch finally arrived.
