Page 24 of Sonata
15
Lucien
Ijerked to a stop when my eyes landed in Étienne, facing off a group of what I guessed were assassins in the middle of the street. All the awe for my mate cutting through the witch’s wards drained from me, but I felt a little better when I noticed Moël and Melody a few feet back on the side of the street. He wasn't alone, thank the fates. It still didn’t explain what was going on and why all of them were outside the cursed place. Viola twisted in my arms and looked over her shoulder, her hair filling my vision and yanking me out of the shock.
“Oh, there is Melody. Hey lady.” She called out to my brother’s mate, waving the bow of her violin in the air.
Every head on that street turned in our direction.
I couldn’t begrudge her the elation and happiness she felt for finally walking out of her magical prison. Yet, my gut tightened when the assassins laid their filthy eyes on her. I had no doubt the witch was closing in on us too from behind. Her screams of rage as we passed the entrance will haunt the place for eternity. With no other option, I took a wide turn around the killers that will soon be killed and took my mate and her friend to where my youngest brother was guarding Melody.
“Brother.” Moël nodded once, but his eyes were locked on the female on my back.
“Votre femme?” holding Viola as she glided down my front to stand on her feet, I watched Moël. Another jerky nod was the response. I could feel all eyes on us in the silence.
“Vous devriez savoir que je parle français.” My body jolted when Harmony spoke next to my ear with a perfect accent. I forgot she was still clinging to my back. Moël’s eyes widened, hearing her say that she speaks French. “Why is he staring at me like that?”
“Because you are his mate, like Viola is mine.” I didn’t see the need for lies, but my brother ducked his head, and his hair fell forward hiding his face. And his scar.
It hurt to see that more than the magic the witch slammed at me.
Harmony didn’t say anything, jumped down off my back, and joined the other two females that were embracing each other so hard they could’ve merged together if it was possible. I stole a quick kiss from my mate, leaving her staring at me with her lips parted, and turned to join Étienne so we can kill the scum and take our mates home. I didn’t make it full turn.
“Lucien, hello.” Josephine’s purr curdled the blood in my veins. “It has been a while, mon amour.”
Call me a coward; I couldn’t look at my mate, although there was nothing I wanted more. Instead, I faced the female who was facing off with Étienne. She removed the hood from her head, and her red hair spilled over her shoulders. The fact that the whispering behind me from Viola and her two friends stopped was not lost on me as I sauntered toward the street cursing my youth, every female I’ve ever laid eyes on, and everything else I could think of.
Internally, of course.
“Que veux-tu?” I could hear Harmony translating that I asked Josephine what she wants, and I wanted to roar in frustration. A muscle twitched under my left eye.
“Now, now, let us speak English, lover. We are in the Americas now, no?” a blind male could see that she smiled at me like someone who knows me intimately. The soft gasp behind my back shriveled my lungs.
“As I was saying before my brother disrupted me with his dramatic entrance to our little get together; we have been out of the French court for decades. None of you have a reason to come looking for us unless you have a death wish.” I owed my oldest brother for many things, and this would become one of those. “Even back then, Lucien told you that you were just a body to warm his bed, do not use it as a weapon. It will not pass, Josephine. You were a fling. Go soothe your pride somewhere else.”
“I’d hardly call fifty years a fling, Étienne.” Josephine pouted while I ground my molars into dust.
“We live for centuries, female.” Spreading his arms wide, my brother grinned at her, his smile promising pain. “Fifty years to us is practically a one night stand. Now leave, or die.”
Legs slightly bending at the knees, I placed my weight on the balls of my feet, ready to pounce. The fact the witch was not outside yet flinging her cursed magic at us was peculiar but welcomed nonetheless. It would’ve only been a distraction that we could go without. Yet again, my mind made a jab at fate, and it took a large bite out of my ass. The witch did not come out of the ruins.
A male stepped out through the doors I broke through to escape the magic wielder with the two females.
“It is a sad day when the family no longer wishes to see each other.” My uncle, whom we haven’t seen since the day my father was killed, joined us. He stayed far enough to not be within arm’s reach. Not something that escaped Étienne's, or my attention for that matter.
The assassins bowed their heads at Phillipe, and he waved a hand in dismissal. He was taunting us in our face by acknowledging them because he probably thought we were outnumbered. Idiot. He couldn’t know the females clustered around Moël are our mates. We didn’t realize it until recently that we had mates. He must’ve really lost his mind to think we would stand back and let him kill us.
“You always were full of shit, Phillipe. I can smell your breath from here with more crap coming out of it.” Crossing my arms, I stared down my nose at him. It was an intimidation tactic I learned by watching Étienne do it to Moël and me daily. “I should’ve known it was you sending these fools to die by the dozens instead of facing us yourself. You always were a coward.”
“That is not a wise way to talk to your king, Lucien.” Josephine lodged a bigger dagger in my chest with those words.
Étienne snatched me by the arm so he could hold me back.
“My king was killed. You are scum.” I spat on the ground.
“Josephine dear, I do not think your request to take him back is warranted the way he is acting.” My uncle drawled.
“He never was for a public show of affection. He will come home, won't you, mon amour?” her hand reached toward me, fingers outstretched.
