He’s so engrossed in Wren that he doesn’t notice me until I’ve grabbed thecollar of his shirt and yanked him right out of his seat. “What the —”
His exclamation dries on his tongue when he sees who’s taken hold of him.
“Lost, little boy?” I snarl in his face, smoke wreathing every word.
“S-sorry!” he stammers. “I w-was… I thought…”
Wren gets to her feet, anxiety dancing across her face. “Dmitri, let him go.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t get involved, dear,” Stefania advises as she steps back intothe restaurant and starts drawing down the blinds. “Best to let your manhandle it.”
“The question is, can you handle it?” I spit in the mudak’s face.
He shakes his head vehemently. “I’m s-sorry. I’ll stay away. P-p-please!”
I shove him away from me hard and he lands on his ass o
