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him a reproving look.
    Hell . He couldn’t seem to help himself.
    Roland’s eyes flashed bright amber. His jaw clenched with fury.
    Sarah’s grip tightened on his arm as she visibly restrained him now. Offering Bastien a sweet smile, she said, “My head’s just fine, thank you. How’s your ass?”
    There was a moment of stunned silence, then Lisette and her brothers all burst into laughter. The other immortals joined in, as did the Seconds.
    Roland glanced at his wife, caught the playful wink she sent him, and relaxed, retaking his chair.
    Judging by the confusion on Melanie’s face when she looked up at him, she hadn’t heard the whole story.
    Shrugging sheepishly, he explained, “Sarah stabbed me in the ass.”
    She blinked. “She did?”
    He nodded and, catching Sarah’s eye, tipped an imaginary hat to her.
    Sarah grinned and shrugged as if to say, I had to do something.
    When the laughter died down, Chris said, “I still want to know what he’s doing here.”
    “Sebastien is here at my invitation,” David told him, which was news to Bastien. “We need him here if we’re going to fully understand what happened last night.”
    As usual, Chris balked. “How are we supposed to trust him to tell us the truth?”
    David sighed heavily. “I can read his thoughts, Chris. As can Lisette and Étienne. And Seth when he arrives. We’ve been over this before.”
    When Chris opened his mouth to continue bitching and moaning, David raised a hand. “Think wisely before you question my decisions in the future. I’m growing tired of having to explain myself. To you or to anyone else.”
    Chris clamped his mouth shut and immediately wiped all expression from his face.
    David may be kindhearted, but it was still exceedingly unwise to piss him off.
    Richart rose and drew out the empty chair beside him, motioning to Dr. Lipton.
    Melanie smiled and seated herself, offering him a muted thank you.
    Bastien took the chair on the other side of her, cursing the jealousy he felt slither through him. Richart wasn’t interested in Melanie. He had his mysterious human lover.
    Yet the other immortal’s attention still rankled.
    And it shouldn’t, Bastien reminded himself. Melanie wasn’t his and would never be his.
    Her shoulder brushed his arm as she swiveled to loop her purse’s strap over the back of her chair. “Sorry,” she murmured.
    Bastien nodded, but said nothing. She was nervous. His gift syphoned her emotions with each tiny brush against him and told him sitting at a table with so many ultra-powerful beings . . . Well, it didn’t frighten her exactly. But she wasn’t comfortable.
    Bastien leaned down and whispered in her ear, “We’re all just like Cliff, Joe, and Vincent, only without the madness.”
    She pursed her lips and looked pointedly at Roland.
    Bastien couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”
    She smiled back, eyes twinkling as some of the stiffness left her shoulders.
    He supposed it could be a tad intimidating, being surrounded by men and women who could read your thoughts, teleport, move things with their minds, heal with their hands, and more. He was just so accustomed to it that it hadn’t occurred to him that it might take some getting used to.
    The faint tones of “Mack the Knife” sounded. At the other end of the table, Sarah drew out her cell phone. “Hello?”
    “It’s Seth,” came the immortal leader’s response. “Just calling ahead.”
    She smiled, as did every immortal present. “Thank you.”
    While she returned her phone to her pocket, the Immortal Guardians’ leader materialized beside the empty chair at the end of the table opposite the one David occupied.
    Sarah had only been with the immortals for a couple of years or thereabouts and still jumped whenever Seth or Richart suddenly appeared in the room, so Seth had taken to calling ahead to warn her.
    Returning her smile, Seth seated himself in the empty chair.
    Chris handed him a file folder,