Julien said nothing, noting that William was again not meeting his eyes before he turned and hurried out of the restaurant. Unease slowly crept through his chest, and he again turned to look at Emory, who was once more flirting with his server, his huge wings flared out behind him and pressed against the chair’s back.
And that’s who you hired?
William’s tone had held a thread of panic when he’d asked that question.
Just what the fuck had that been about?
Chapter Eight
Emory
Emory normally didn’t sleep a lot when he was guarding a client but that night, he was exhausted from just doing nothing the entire day. He’d followed Julien to his luncheon and then back to the office, where the man said very little to him. Julien’s focus when he was at work was relentless.
Maybe Emory should take a page out of his friend Dax’s book and bring something to read. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy reading, it had just been some time since he’d picked up a book. Normally on jobs, the clients talked with him or he was busier. This standing around Julien’s office while being completely ignored was harder than he would have thought.
But then, that was because a part of him hated being ignored by this particular man. He didn’t even know what it was about Julien, other than his good looks and fantastic body, that was drawing his interest. He got the feeling that the man kept such tight control over his life for deeply personal reasons. He also felt that if anyone needed his world shaken up, it was Julien.
What would he be like if he actually dropped that tightly leashed control and lost himself to passion?
Just the thought of that had Emory’s legs shifting restlessly among the sheets.
He turned onto his side, let out his wings, and closed his eyes, trying in vain to get the rest he needed, but all he could picture was having that loss of control be because of him.
A prickle of dark magic brushed over his skin. He quickly jumped out of bed and ran into the hall only to find Julien there, wearing a pair of black silk pajama pants.
“It’s here, isn’t it?” Julien whispered. “I heard something knocked over in the kitchen, and I knew you were in bed, so I was coming to get you.”
“It is. Stay with me.” Emory crept down the hallway and into the living room.
A low chuckle came out of the darkness.
Out of the corner of his eye, Emory saw a quick-as-lightning streak of black move from one side of the room to the other. He squinted and looked straight ahead, knowing it was easier to spot a penumbra with peripheral vision, and sure enough, it dashed closer to them.
Emory reached behind him, pulled Julien close to him, then stepped back to press Julien into the wall.
“What do you want with this man?” Emory called out.
It merely laughed again. This time, he spotted the black streak as it moved closer, but he was ready for it. He aimed a hard cut to the side and heard a low grunt of pain when he connected with something solid. It darted away, its low laughter trickling into the room.
“Smart angel,” it whispered.
“This smart angel would like to know who hired you. Or do you have a personal beef with him yourself? Wonky cloud storage issue, maybe?”
He heard a snort from Julien behind him.
“Beef?” was all the penumbra asked.
“An issue, something that’s pissed you off.”
Instead of answering, it darted toward him again. He would have ducked, but then he’d be leaving Julien open behind him. This penumbra wasn’t out to kill Julien, though. Not yet. It needed a lot more fear to get its fill.
A punch slammed into his midsection, causing him to let out a huff of pain. But he sucked in another breath of air and swiped his arm out, catching another part of its nearly invisible body. There was a thump as it hit the wall, but again it moved too fast for the eye.
This time, the low, hissy voice came from across the room. “Someone doesn’t like this human.”
“Not good enough,” Emory growled out, still plastered to Julien, so Julien had a face full of his wings—he felt Julien’s breaths ruffling the feathers. He wasn’t feeling a real threat from this penumbra—not yet. Normally, their attacks escalated, driving up the fear they fed on, but this one was obviously thrown off by Emory’s presence.
The front door slammed open, and the prickle of magic disappeared.
