Jean-François quirked his lip. “A falcon watching you like a hawk? Truly, de León, your wordsmithery is a marvel to behold.” “My story, coldblood. I’ll tell it how I like.” Gabriel finished off his wine and wiped his lips. “And for your information ‘wordsmithery’ isn’t a real word.” “Nor is ‘fuckarsery,’ but you hear no complaints from me.”
