He glared at Constantine for long silent moments before Tristan walked up the stairs and shouldered his way between them until he was a few steps above them, then stopped and faced them. “Con, you’re being a wanker. You wanted one of us to get close to Iona so we could determine what she knew, and tell her of her legacy if John hadn’t. You can no’ just tell him to stop after he’s gotten close,” Tristan said. “And Laith, you’re not thinking calmly. Con is trying to put things into perspective and doing it poorly.” “I’m doing a fine job,” Con stated succinctly. Laith walked past Con and Tristan on the stairs. He reached the top and then paused before he slowly turned to look at the King of Kings. “Is it that you can no’ stand to see us happy?” “I’ve done everything to make sure each of you have a place to call your own, a home where you can be yourselves,” Con answered. “But no’ to be happy?” Con’s black gaze was penetrating. “When was the last time you were truly, utterly happy, Laith?
