Stefan marched into the Council's large assembly hall with a scowl. The Council had asked for a plan to stop Zina. He'd given them two. The problem was that they'd done nothing. True, Laylah was safe, at least for the moment, but his own trusted group of informants warned him of Zina's impending strike. He needed the Council to protect Laylah.
"Stefan McJeysen, to what do we owe this honor?"
Isabella's silky honey tone grated on his ears. She had qualities similar to Zina and it concerned him. He would not allow himself to be goaded. "Lady Isabella, it is a pleasure to see you and the Council." He really didn't think so, but he had to play the part. "I've come to discuss Zina." He knew he was being blunt, but time was running out.
"Bold, isn't he?" growled Javier.
"Not bold. You asked me a couple of months ago to help you get Zina. So far nothing has happened. Why?"
"Your insolence knows no bounds, does it? It is not for you, Omega, to tell us when to act," Javier sneered.
Stefan gritted his teeth. He dearly wanted to smash his fist into the Werebear's face, but now was not the moment. The longer the Council delayed, the greater the chance Zina's plan would succeed. He chose to ignore his challenger and concentrated on Isabella.
"My lady. You asked. I gave. Yet, here we are, twiddling our thumbs. Zina has gathered an army like before. They are fanatical followers, like before. And if you continue this procrastination, it will end badly, just like before! Consider yourselves warned."
The assembled Weres booed and hissed, but he didn't care. Stupid! The whole group was stupid! He'd done his good deed. All that mattered was her. He had to keep Laylah safe. Not waiting to be dismissed, Stefan turned his back on the Council, head held high, and left them to their fate.
~***~
Laylah stayed quiet on the ride home, despite Jacques' repeated attempts to start a conversation. He was being nosy and lately it had begun to irritate. That feeling of being smothered kept returning. The number of rules had increased, too. She had to have someone with her at all times. The drop-off and pick-up spots rotated to the point that she thought her head would explode from trying to remember it all.
"Laylah, we're home."
She blinked and stared out the window. The gentle breeze ruffled the weeping willow branches. She felt like crying. She got out and ran inside. Jacques was right on her heels.
"Laylah."
"Don't start, Jacques!" She threw a hand up dismissively; angry at what she thought was going to be a lecture. She attempted to sidestep him. She wasn't in the mood to listen to anyone, not while her feelings were such a mess.
His fingers wrapped around her right forearm and jerked hard. Thrown off-balance, she twisted and slammed against his body. Shocked, her gaze flew upward to his face and she paled. Never had Laylah seen that expression on Jacques' face before. Always concern, sometimes laughter, but never anger.
"Laylah Cherie Le Croix, I've had about all I can take of your attitude! I told you to stay away from Donil Silentshadow, and what do I find?"
"But, Jacques!"
He cut her off with a sharp dig of his fingers in her arm. "You and Britta, outside where everyone can see you chatting with Donil! Have you lost your mind! Do you have a death wish, Laylah? Do you?"
"Ow! No, I don't! Jacques, please stop!"
"Be silent!" he bellowed and she flinched. "I'm trying to do my job and keep you safe. I'm also trying to keep you from getting into trouble with your father. You are not making it easy! He will not be so forgiving if he learns Donil is hanging around you."
"But why? Donil saved my life two months ago. Father should thank him, not hate him!"
He shook her, his expression harsh. "Do not question your father's motives or orders, Laylah!"
She stared at Jacques, her mind numb from dealing with too many shocks. First seeing Donil, then having Britta fuss at her, and now Jacques. It was too much.
"Jacques! What are you doing? Let her go!"
Laylah felt his grip loosen and Jacques stepped away, his body rigid. She saw Naiya off to the side with a peculiar look on her face.
"Go to your room, Laylah. You have homework to do," he ordered.
Angry at his resigned tone, she glared at him, ran upstairs and slammed her door. Childish, true, but it made her feel a little better. She threw her backpack on the bed and stomped over to the balcony doors. Pushing them open, she was blinded by the evening sun. She blinked a few times to clear her watering eyes. No, not watering. Tears were falling.
She was bawling like a baby. Laylah hated to admit it, but she was more embarrassed than angry. Jacques' fit of temper was the kind a parent would display. The idea brought her up short. Did he view her as a daughter? It would explain the way he'd been treating her lately. She had always considered him and Naiya like her parents, but she hadn't known if the feelings were mutual.
"I'm so confused!" she wailed and leaned on the railing, staring at the forest. Agitated by the day's events and miserable at the thought that Britta and Donil might be together, Laylah went back inside, flung herself on the bed and cried herself to sleep.