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Her face heated. “Well. What are you going to do about it?”
“I won’t do much more until you agree with the pact.” Jean-Luc nipped her lower lip. He paused. “Do you?”
“I…” Her internal alarm blasted the sermons Aunt Liv had ever so fondly drilled into her skull. Nothing good would come out of making a pact with the Unseen. “I…I can’t.”
He tsked disappointedly. “You’re a hard sell, chérie.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jean-Luc studied her face. She noticed his inky black lashes that framed his hypnotic blue eyes. Men weren’t supposed to have lashes that gorgeous. She was jealous. Maddie wanted to touch them, but Jean-Luc caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. He sucked her finger. Maddie groaned. What he did brought a sinful sensation straight to her groin. She moistened instantaneously.
He let go of her finger. “I put a warding spell on you, after we left Maison Plaisir so nothing could harm you.”
“You did?” So that was why she hadn’t seen ghosts or spirits recently.
“Make a pact with me, Madeline, and I’ll protect you.”
“I can’t,” she blurted out regrettably.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
Maddie cringed. Can’t or won’t. If she had to be honest with herself, she didn’t mind having Jean-Luc around. But she didn’t want to go through the hell Aunt Liv had been through. Djinn or Hellhound, they were all the same. They couldn’t be trusted. “I can’t.”
Jean-Luc narrowed his eyes. His expression slipped into an expressionless mask. She couldn’t read what was going on in his head.
“If I lift my protection, they’re going to hound you,” he noted slowly, as if he wanted the word to sink into her skull.
“What’s new?”
“Stubborn.” Jean-Luc rolled from her and climbed off the bed. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Kinda.” Maddie mourned her loss. She guessed he wasn’t in the mood for making out anymore.
“But you like my kiss,” he stated. Haughtiness dripped from his tone.
Her cheeks burned. Duh. Who wouldn’t?
Jean-Luc threw her a sardonic smile. “You’ll come around. I’m certain of it.”
“You think?”
“Before this week’s end, chérie. You’ll be mine.” Jean-Luc tipped his head and turned around. He disappeared before her eyes.
Maddie scrambled up and ran her hands through her hair. What did that mean? Did he mean to lift his protection so she’d cave in to his demand? That wasn’t really fair.
She touched her lips. She could still taste his kiss.
Mind-numbing.
Damn Hellhounds.
* * * *
Jean-Luc strolled his way through the lunchtime commuters between Fifth and Sixteenth before he made a quick turn into Broadway Avenue. He hated walking among the living and preferred to avoid them if he could. Humans couldn’t see him. Rarely. Maddie was an exception. And on many occasions, they just walked through him. The process wasn’t painful or anything, but Jean-Luc found it quite annoying.
He paused before entering a small, shabby Vietnamese noodle restaurant on the corner of Broadway. The deserted and dimly lit room greeted him. As he stepped on the welcome mat, the faint bell announced his arrival, making the old man behind the counter jump. He was human and couldn’t see him, and Jean-Luc figured the bell ringing on its own accord must have unnerved him. The noodle shop was one of the few gateways into the spirit world. The human proprietor didn’t have a clue that his establishment was frequented by otherworldly beings. Jean-Luc had heard from others that the old man was suspicious, though. Judging from the yellowed parchments—protection seals—written in Asian characters and plastered in the entrance of the restaurant, and in some other strategic places, Jean-Luc assumed the proprietor had tried to ward the spirits from his shop. The seals might work on the zacrachs, but they were utterly useless on Hellhounds like him.
The old man behind the counter threw a puzzled look at his surroundings, then returned his attention to the newspaper he was reading. Jean-Luc strode past him and headed to the back of the shop. In the kitchen, he saw an old woman berating a young man while chopping a head of cabbage at an amazing speed. The youngster wasn’t really paying attention. He leaned by the refrigerator with eyes half-closed, listening to music from his earphones. Jean-Luc breezed between him and the wall and stopped in front of the storage room. He pressed his palms on the door and pushed, stepping into the spirit world.
