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His lip curled with annoyance. “Calette always gets what she wants.”
“Pretty girls usually do!” Romeric smiled brightly, genuine this time. He headed for the stairs with a spring in his step, excited that his reunion with Calette was imminent. He took the steps two at a time, but Cael blocked his path at the landing.
“I’m warning you, Jurati cur,” he growled in a low voice. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
Romeric managed not to laugh in his face, but he couldn’t help grinning. The thought of Cael laying a hand on him was ridiculous, as was the idea that he had any say over who his sister could or could not be intimate with.
He leaned close and murmured, “I thought you said she always gets what she wants.”
They had agreed to keep the events of the night to themselves. With no witnesses and only a mangled, nearly unidentifiable corpse as evidence, it seemed unlikely that anyone would believe they’d been attacked by some kind of magical beast in the middle of the city. If it weren’t for the deep scratches on his arm, Romeric wasn’t sure he would believe it himself. “We were all drinking,” he’d pointed out. “If we tell anyone, they only thing they will hear is that we killed a cat.”
A frightful screech cut off the rest of what Barris was about to say, and the next instant something large and heavy landed on his back. Tierce’s eyes went wide and he heard Romeric shout something, but mostly he was only aware of the spitting, hissing beast that was now on top of him. He dropped under the weight of its impact, knees hitting hard against the stone pavement. Claws, needle-sharp, dug through the fabric of his shirt and he flailed with his arms to try and dislodge whatever it was.
Then, just as fast as it had pounced, it launched itself into the air again.
“I don’t think it likes you,” Tierce said, looking up at Barris in a daze.