Page 166 of Cherish

“Absolutely,” my mate answers without glancing away from one of the screens that is currently in color.

“It doesn’tlooklike you’re getting it,” Flint accuses.

Hudson rolls his eyes. “I’m getting it.”

“Because this is super important. This is sushi history right here.”

“That’s what you told me.” Hudson moves on to a screen showing a birth in China.

“Are you sure you’re getting it?” Flint sounds a lot more doubtful now. “Because I don’t think they have any restaurants in China.”

“Oh, I think they do,” Hudson replies mildly as he continues to write.

“I’m not so sure.” Flint narrows his eyes suspiciously as he looks from Hudson to the TV screen and back again. “Hey! What’s the name of the restaurant chain I’m talking about?”

Hudson ignores him.

“Don’t worry about pronouncing it right. I know you don’t speak Japanese.”

Hudson still doesn’t say anything.

“Unless you just don’t know the name…because you’re not recording it!” Flint points an accusing finger at my mate, which has Jaxon and me taking precious seconds to turn in our chairs and exchange slightly nervous glances.

Hudson doesn’t usually like to be pointed at.

But my mate just sighs. “I said I’d record it, Flint.”

“No, you said youwererecording it. That’s not the same thing.”

Hudson’s teeth come together with an audible click that would normally have me putting myself between him and whomever caused it. But there’s some kind of poisonous gas leak in a plant in Waco, and Ihaveto write the information down.

Flint, however, doesn’t seem to notice the warning click—or maybe he just doesn’t care about it. Either way, he asks again, “Then what’s the name of the restaurant, Hudson?”

When Hudson still doesn’t answer, he asks again. “What’s the name of the—”

“Get fooked!” Hudson suddenly growls. “The name of the restaurant isget fooked.”

“Whoa, whoa. Dude!” Flint looks shocked as he holds up his hands in a simmer-down motion. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

“I don’t eat fooking cornflakes, you bloody dragon’s arse. But if you don’t walk the fook away from me right the fook now, I’m going to drain every drop of blood from your bloody body and then I’m going to stake your sorry-arse carcass out in the garden for the ants and the rats and anything else that wants a shot at you to devour.”

Each word is said in a low, calm voice that grows more terrifying with every second that passes—even before he ends with a smile so cold that Alexandria suddenly feels like Denali. And that’s before I notice the tips of his fangs gleaming against his lower lip. “And if you don’t believe me,” he continues, “why don’t you ask me one more fooking time what the arsed sushi restaurant’s name is?”

Normally, that’s the kind of threat that would make Flint engage, but even he must realize that he’s pushed my normally unflappable mate past the point of no return.

Because under Jaxon’s watchful eye, Flint takes a couple of giant steps back, then offers a narrowed gaze and says, “Fine. I’ll go see if Eden needs some next-level help.”

88

Herstory

Is History

Eden freezes, pen midair, as she turns to look at me with wide eyes.No, no, no, she mouths, shaking her head wildly.

I just shrug and give her my most winning smile, because sometimes it’s good to share the wealth—and this is definitely one of those times. Mostly because if Flint is bothering Eden, then he won’t be bothering me…or Hudson. And judging from the fact that Hudson just snapped one of the Curator’s pens in half by merely picking it up, I think he could probably use the break.

I know I could.

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