“All right, fine.” She straightened and averted her face. “Since I have no choice, but to believe you, I will—”
A scuffle from the doorway put a pause on whatever rant she’d been concocting the whole way there. They both glanced to the hallway as voices rose. Killian’s initial thought was Frank. He was just preparing to intercept what could quite possibly be a bloodbath between his head of security and his security breaking sister when a voice cried out. The scuffle intensified. Something hit the wall with a heavy thud.
“Let go of me! Killian!”
Killian was out of his chair with speeds that sent it sailing backwards. It slammed into the wall behind his desk and twirled, forgotten as its owner stormed around the desk. Vaguely, he heard Maraveet call out to him, but his head was already thriving with all the noise of his purpose propelling him forward.
In the opening, Juliette swung into view, struggling against the hands curled into the sleeve of her coat. Blonde curls bounced wildly around her pale face. She kicked and swung viciously at the man trying to pull her away.
“Get your hands off her!”
His warning came too late. The seam at her shoulder came undone. The fabric tore with a loud rip that added to the violent buzzing between his ears. The man’s hold slipped. Juliette hit the ground with a cry that spiked straight through the cavity of Killian’s very existence. Her head ricocheted off the plaster with a crack and she whimpered.
Killian saw red. His heart roared as his blood sizzled in his veins. Knuckles popped as all ten fingers closed into two balls of violence. He closed the distance and swung. The blow burst against the man’s mouth, breaking skin and snapping his head back. He flew off his feet and crashed into the wall where he slumped to the ground in a daze.
“You ever put your fucking hands on her again, I’ll make sure you leave without them!”
Leaving him there, Killian hurried to where Juliette was struggling to sit up. Her big, brown eyes met his, brimming with a terror that seared through him. It brought him to his knees next to her and was immediately caught in the strangling circle of her arms.
“Killian…” her voice broke against his shoulder.
“It’s all right,” he promised into the side of her head. “I’ve got you now.”
Against the palms of his hands, her back shuddered. Her head shook.
“I got here and there was smoke everywhere and strange men with guns and …” she rasped. “They wouldn’t let me see you.”
“I’m fine.” His free hand slide beneath the heavy curtain of hair at the back of her head and gingerly stroked the lump rising there. “You need an ice pack.”
“No.” She pulled away enough to touch the spot herself. “I’m all right.” Her eyes searched his face. “Are you okay?”
Carefully, he eased to his feet, pulling her along with him. His gaze went to the tear in her coat before returning to her eyes.
“My sister came to visit,” he explained, which probably made no sense to her, because she frowned.
“The one you haven’t seen in years?”
He nodded.
With a hand placed gingerly on the small of her back, he led her into his office where Maraveet was watching them with an expression that suggested she was witnessing a horrible crash. There was no mistaking the disapproval etched into the tight lines bracketing her downturned lips, or the once over she gave Juliette.
“Juliette, my sister Maraveet,” he introduced.
Juliette offered her a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Killian’s told me so much about you.”
That only seemed to fill Maraveet with even more suspicion. Her green eyes snapped to Killian and narrowed into thin, murderous slits.
“Has he now?”
Juliette must have realized she’d said something wrong, because her smile faded. She glanced from Maraveet to Killian with a look of uncertainty.
“Only that you grew up together,” she explained.
Maraveet was not appeased. She continued to burn holes into Killian.
“Odd thing to tell a person you have no real interest in.”
Juliette blinked.
Killian kept his eyes on his sister. “Still none of your business.”
“You’re an idiot if you can’t see it!” she bit back.
“There is nothing to see.”
Fine nostrils flared as though Killian had cursed. Maraveet’s chin went up.
“The fact that you can say that is cause enough for concern. As of right now, I cannot trust you to make any sort of decisions.”
With that, she stalked towards the doors. She paused in the hallway to poke her bodyguard with the toe of her boots. When he only groaned, she stepped over him and disappeared from sight.
Juliette turned to Killian. “Did I miss something?”
Killian sighed. “Not even a little. Maraveet is … difficult to understand.”
“I didn’t offend her, did I?”
Killian laughed. “She’s not easy to understand … or offend. She’s just … Maraveet. Come on before she burns my kitchen to the ground.”
With her hand firmly in his, he led her downstairs.
“Is she normally so exciting?” Juliette wondered as they reached the bottom and surveyed the small chaos taking place outside the open doors.
Plumes of gray smoke wound to the heavens, filling the air—and his house—with the stench of sulfur. His men were running around trying to clean up the mess, but there were scorch marks everywhere, staining the snow black. A short distance away, a cluster of men stood watching and grinning.
Killian growled low in his throat. “Unfortunately yes. But at least she didn’t land on the roof via helicopter this time.”
Juliette’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s different…”
“That’s Maraveet. She never does anything easy.” He stormed into the kitchen with Juliette hurrying to keep up with his long strides. “Did you set my house on fire?” he demanded of the woman rifling through his kitchen.
In the process of ransacking his cupboards, Maraveet snorted. “Of course not. I know how upset you get when I do that.” She slammed one cupboard shut and yanked open another. “Just a few flash bombs and smoke grenades. Nothing harmful.”
“Why can’t you use the phone like a—”
Maraveet whirled around so fast, she was practically a blur. “Don’t say it! You know how I hate the N word!”
Juliette looked at Killian. “The N word?”
Killian decided not to push his luck with his sister. She already looked like she wanted to start hurling knives at him … again.
“I’ll tell you later.” he told Juliette.
“You should be thanking me!” Maraveet snapped. “Your men were utterly useless. The moment the bombs went off, they practically wet themselves. Had absolutely no idea what they were supposed to do next. I waltzed right past them. It was appalling. I could have killed you.”
“My men aren’t in the habit of getting bombed!” he shot back.
Maraveet smirked like he’d just proven her point for her. “Exactly. Shameful.” She twirled back around to the cupboard hanging open. Jars and cans were shoved carelessly left and right. “Why in the bloody hell do you not own any tea?”
He was about to tell her the tea box was right in front of her face when she spotted it. The box was ripped down and she gawked at the thing was though it were personally responsible for the slaughter of helpless kittens.
Her head jerked up, her expression comical. “What is this?”
“Chai,” he said as evenly as possible. “It’s tea.”
She shook it next to her ear like she expected to hear the whimper of lost souls begging to be let out.
“This is not tea,” she decided, smacking the box down on the counter. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m pretty sure it will give me hemorrhoids and influenza.”
Killian sighed. “You are being irrationally overdramatic.”
“It tastes best with milk.” Juliette’s quiet murmur reminded them she was still there, watching the scene unfold with one hand smothering her grin. “The chai,” she explained when Killian and Maraveet both stared. “If you make it with milk…”