He didn't have to, but he knew me too well. He was trying to be utterly neutral, and failing just a bit. He had every right to be tired of me fucking everyone but him. A certain mystique, or an aura of confidence, or something.
Looking into her eyes, I wasn't at all certain that she'd wait for a judge and jury. That thought made a tension go out of my shoulders, out of my body, that I hadn't even realized was there. Yeah, just bones. Jean-Claude's cool power flowed over me, soothed the burning, touched the edge of Richard's power, and brought us all back up to the surface of our metaphysical sea.
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