He’s going to know what happened once he sees you. I don’t think he’s going to try to kill you here, though, if that makes you feel better. He won’t want the kids to be traumatized. But I’d run as soon as possible if I were you, although it would be fun to watch Roark kick your ass.” But Milo cared about the party, and that meant that North cared about it, too, more so than he cared about watching Julian getting his ass kicked.
Epilogue
The party was a success, and Griffith was relieved. For a moment—okay, maybe more than a moment considering what had happened—he’d thought he’d have to pull the plug on it and just buy a few pizzas for the kids. But now there was spooky music, the living room was dark and filled with people, food, and even a few life-sized mummies and vampires that kind of freaked Griffith out.
The kids were having fun. Griffith had heard more than one squeak of pleasure when they’d first walked into the living room, and now they were talking and dancing and eating their own weight in food. The shelter would have a new oven as soon as it could be delivered, and it had already been paid for by an anonymous good Samaritan that was probably the guy who’d almost made it explode.
Several assassins were there. They were all careful around the kids, and after what had happened with that Julian guy, they were present more to keep an eye on things than to have fun, but they’d dressed up to make the kids more comfortable. It worked—although in Armand’s case, the assassins were the ones uncomfortable now, since he’d shifted into Win and had decided to dress up as a Disney princess. He’d already knocked down a small table with his big blue gown, his tiara was crooked, and he was trying to give the assassins orders while they attempted to avoid him. Griffith had to admit the sight was weird, and he knew Win wouldn’t be happy about this. It was funny, though.
Griffith wasn’t sure if Noel and Armand had coordinated their costumes on purpose, but Noel was dressed as a prince, with a fake plastic sword and shining blond hair. Roark hadn’t dressed up, and while North hadn’t wanted to dress up, Milo had convinced him to stick a pair of fake fangs in his mouth, and he kept snarling at Milo—who made a scrawny Jon Snow under the huge fake fur coat he wore—to show them off. Beck was in the corner to keep the lights, sounds, and music under control, and Griffith couldn’t help but wonder how comfortable he was sitting in his full Iron Man costume.
Griffith leaned closer to Lawrence so his mate could hear him. “What was that guy’s problem anyway? Julian.” Knowing that a grown adult had managed to find his way into the shelter left Griffith feeling cold and wary, even though he knew that most people wouldn’t be able to get through the door. This guy was a professional assassin, from what he knew, and while that should no doubt have scared him even more than he already was, he knew enough assassins to be aware of the fact that not all of them were bad guys. This one hadn’t been, even though he’d made a mess of things and had nearly killed the party.
Lawrence shrugged. “Not sure. I know he tried to get to Roark when he and some of the others went for a weekend in the mountains last year. They had to kick his ass then, but they let him go. I guess he’s at it again.”
Griffith looked around. “Are you guys sure it was okay to let him go again?”
Lawrence patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m sure North and Roark kept an eye on him until he was out of sight, and even though he did what he did, he also helped with the clean-up.”
“And he paid for a new oven.”
Lawrence grinned. “Yeah?”
“I think it was him, anyway. I doubt Roark found the time to order a new one yet, but I got an email with the info earlier. It’s going to be delivered tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bad guy to me.”
“Well, he did try to get to Roark.” Although to be honest, Griffith still wasn’t sure what the party had to do with it. The guy didn’t seem to have wanted to kill Roark, just to annoy him by ruining a party he thought