You Must Fall In Love

Chapter Fifty-One

Okay, so a very stout and rather creepy man was talking to her out of nowhere.

That wasn't the bad part. It was incredibly awkward, especially for someone with her own magnificent social skills, but not too bad in and of itself.

No, the problem was that he had called her Princess.

He knew.

"Haha!" laughed Christine. "Oh, you're hilarious. That's a very funny joke, you know? Princess? I don't..."

Her nervous grin died as she saw his mouth. It was stretched out in a weak, ingratiating smile, as if nothing she had said really mattered. He looked like drool would start pouring from his ears at any moment.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, Christine," said the stout man softly. "We know who you are, yes we do."

He sounded like one of those cartoon clowns, only real, and with no makeup on. Before Christine could realize that she was in a cold sweat from head to toe, Yusuke swept her aside. His sports bag dangled in front of her midriff like a shield.

"Leave," said Yusuke. "Miss Lam has no need of your attentions."

"Ah," said the stout man. "A strong and masculine protector! What will you do, I wonder? Strike me with that bag of yours?"

Yusuke's scent grew stronger. The smell of pears wafted all the way to the roof, overpowering the cheap coffee and the overpriced bagels and the stout man's sandwich smell. Christine might have found it relaxing, if she wasn't so scared.

"I do not hurt humans if I can help it," said Yusuke. "Please do not force my hand."

Hurt? No, that couldn't be. There was no way actual violence was about to occur. They were in an airport! Things like that didn't happen here!

"Strong words!" minced the stout man. "Yes, strong words indeed. But I know perfectly well that you will not do that, boy. You would not stoop to blows here, in plain sight of the public. No, that would be a foolish thing."

He smiled again, weakly, his shifty eyes catching the light and turning it to querulous beams.

Yusuke's jaw set. His hands stayed by his side, but his feet shifted, as if he were ready to spring off the floor at a moment's notice and tackle the intruder like a rugby player.

"What do you want? Why did you call Miss Lam a Princess?"

"I will only answer that question when you answer mine, boy," said the stout man. "Who are you, and what do you want with Miss Lam?"

"I am not about to give you my name."

"How disappointing. Then I will give you mine, at least: I am Nimrod Weathercock, of the Hunters Three."

Nimrod paused to preen.

Christine glanced at Yusuke in alarm, hoping to see a blank look on his face, or even amusement, but there was none.

He was shocked. For once, he looked like he had no idea what to do.

"You're..." he began.

Nimrod nodded, an angelic smile on his fat face.

"Your name is known to me," said Yusuke. "The Hunters Three have done great services to mankind."

Great services? This tub of bad cholesterol? It was all Christine could do not to vocalize her disgust, and the only thing that actually stopped her from doing it was the pounding in her chest. At this rate, her heart would make off with her windpipe wrapped around it like Christmas tinsel.