Page 73 of Live Love Lasso

I wave at a row of pies sitting on the kitchen table behind the elderly twins. “A well-timed pie and apology might be in order. Why don’t y’all follow Echo around for a while. She’s been smilin’ a might more lately… Might be some news there to sniff out.”

There’s absolutely not any Echo dating news. I think my bestie might be even pickier than her rancher father, and that is saying something.

Bryony nods once more. “Of course, Furyon. Thanks for letting us know. We’ll go ‘round and grab up the old copies to dispose of them.”

I shake my head. “No need. Damage is done, as her family’s already seen those. Just ignore Lemon insofar as the column is concerned, alright?”

The twins promise me they will. I head for the truck and comm Oz, who picks right up.

“Furyon. Just the man I was about to call. Per your request, I’m letting you know that Lemon’s father’s walking down Main right now. Looks like he might be headed to Glimmer, but I bet you can cut him off at the pass if you hurry.”

I hop in my truck and hightail it from the residential area past the auction house, parking in front of the potions house. I’m in luck. A tall, elegant vampire male with a younger male by his side round the corner, heading for Glimmer’s door.

Exiting the truck, I put myself right in their path, crossing my arms. “You Lemon’s father?”

The male stops and sneers, flaring his nostrils as his wings spring wide and blot out the sun. Behind him the buildings creak and groan angrily, a sure sign they don’t like his fucking attitude.

“Who’s asking?” That comes from the younger male.

The potions house lets out a godsawful warning noise, enough to make him glance warily over his shoulder at her.

I sneer right back at the pair. “I’m guessin’ she takes after her mama. I sure don’t see none of you in her, but sounds like that’s probably a good thing on the account of you two being fucking assholes.”

The older male’s second eyelid flashes over his ruby iris, long nails slipping sharp from his fingertips. He says nothing, though.

I’d almost laugh at these dumbasses and their bluster, but they hurt her.

She’s happy right now, busy at work and making good progress, based on the sentiment in my chest. I channel that happiness into a reminder about just how shitty yesterday was for her.

The older male folds his wings away, clasping both hands at his waist. I suppose he thinks he’s got the upper hand here.

I call my bigger form, muscles ripping and popping as I grow bigger and taller. The younger male backs away, tripping over the sidewalk and busting his ass in the middle of the street. The father’s eyes spring wide, but he stands his ground as I tower over him, twice his height and three times his width.

“Who are you?” he asks the simple question.

I smile. “The only thing you need to know is that you hurt her, and that demands retribution. If you cause my woman another second of pain, I will end you without consideration for the fact that you’re technically family.”

He sneers, baring twin fangs at me. “Mighty threat, boy. Do you know who I am? What I could do?”

I laugh. “Do you know who I am, Denton? Eldest son of Farkon Zayle, House Zayle. You might not know me, but I’m certain you’ve heard of my father.”

His mouth drops open. “We… You can’t be him. His eldest son died. Everyone knows that.”

I scoff. “Yet I’m alive and well. Dead to my father, most days, that’s true. But if you know dark elves, you know, no matter what, we take house loyalty very seriously. If I call my family right now and tell them we need to end you, he’ll see it done.” I grin. “It’ll look like an accident. You’re elderly and all, so that won’t surprise nobody.”

It’s a little bit of a lie. My father wouldn’t lift a finger to help me. But my brother FJ would do it with the family resources.

The vampire zips his mouth tightly shut. “She’s my daughter. I have every right to see her.”

“You can see her on her terms,” I clarify. “And if you say something else shitty to her about any topic at all, you’ll deal with me. Are we clear?”

The brother rushes back over from the street, snapping and snarling at me. Whipping out, I grab him by the throat and toss him down at my feet. Planting a foot on his back, I lean on him until he’s nice and flat, his breath raising little dust swirls from the sidewalk.

I glare at Lemon’s asshat father. “I said, are we clear?”

He doesn’t spare a glance for his son, who starts pleading for me to relieve the pressure of my foot on his far smaller torso.

“Crystal.” That’s all her father says before stepping around me and grabbing Glimmer’s door handle. He yanks on it several times as the potions house shrieks and clatters all her black painted siding in warning.