Page 50 of A Shade Too Far
“Tatiana didn’t mention you’d be here,” Laurent said.
“Or you,” Naveen said.
If they were going to behave like children, I might as well have some fun. I walked around the car, cooing “so pretty.”
Naveen grimaced. “My car is not pretty. It’s magnificent.”
Laurent snorted. “It’s a midlife crisis ten years early.”
“At least I don’t have size issues.” Naveen jerked a thumb toward the motorcycle.
See, there were plenty of things for the boys to fight about besides Laurent’s magic. I peered in the back window and clapped my hands. “You have a car seat.” I pitched my voice all sex kitten and pouty. “That’s so badass.”
“Evani is required by law to have one,” Naveen said. “And it’s a pain to keep putting it in and taking it out.”
“Poor poppet,” I said blandly. “There’s medication for that nowadays.”
Naveen gasped. “I’m speaking about my niece’s safety and you’re making inappropriate comments?”
“Really, Mitzi.” Laurent shook his head. “Too far.”
I cupped a hand to my ear. “Did you two just agree on something?”
They stared sullenly at me in an identical crossed-arms position, which turned to scowls toward each other, and then they dropped their pose at the same moment.
“This is ridiculous.” I threw my hands up. “You’re both upset and angry and you both have good reason to be, but now you’re going to see it from the other’s perspective.”
They looked away.
“Don’t make me break out the mom countdown,” I said, “because I assure you, you won’t like it.”
“I’m still mad,” Naveen muttered.
Laurent said something in French.
Naveen shoved his shoulder. “Speak English.”
“I should have told you.” The shifter looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Happy?”
“My cup runneth over with delight,” I said. “Your turn, Naveen.”
“Upon further reflection,” the Brit said stiffly, “your magic acquisition was not, perhaps, a huge surprise to me.”
I slow-clapped them. “Was that so hard?”
“I’ve killed demons for less,” Naveen said and marched off.
Laurent fell into step with his friend. “True. Remember the one in Zurich?”
Naveen laughed, the two of them entering Tatiana’s home without knocking.
Mortal enemies one minute, best friends the next. Just like children. Whistling, I headed inside. Damn, I was good.
I followed the sound of raucous laughter into the kitchen. Emmett and Tatiana sat in the sun-drenched room at the large round table, attempting to discard the cards in their hands onto small piles in front of them as quickly as possible.
Tatiana rid herself of her stockpile first and slammed her fist on a card, a second before Emmett did the same to one of his piles.
“Old, my ass!” she crowed.
