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Jedrik chuckled and quirked his brows. “I work. Just at something different than you do.”
“Yeah, you work at getting laid,” Delara retorted.
“Well, that’s hard work. Not all women fall easily for this handsome face. Some like to be wooed. At least, I sleep with women who are aren’t bloodfuckers who—”
“Shut up, asshole.” Delara threw a bag of frozen corn at his head. He caught it and set it on the kitchen table.
He took two steps toward her, looped his arm around her waist, and yanked her against his chest. “Love you, Sass. Need you safe.”
Delara’s face instantly softened, but she pushed him away. “Go. Get out of here. And it’s your turn to call Damien. I’m not doing it this week. He nearly bit off my head the last time I called. Seriously, that guy has major issues.”
“Have a little sympathy. He’s in hell.” I had no idea who Damien was and, after hearing that, I didn’t want to. Jedrik kissed her cheek and headed out of the kitchen. “See ya, Rayne. Totally hot and fucka—”
“Arrow!” Delara picked up a can of peaches and threw it at his head, but he caught it before it hit him.
He grinned. “Later, babes.” He tossed the can back at Delara then jogged down the stairs.
“So how was therapy? You feeling okay?” Delara asked while continuing to put the groceries away.
“Good. Bad. Hard.”
I moved to lean up against the counter, a box of crackers in my hands. This was the first time in months that Delara seemed approachable. “Where do you stay every night?”
Delara’s hand stopped midway to the cupboard with a can of tuna. She set it on top of the three others then shut the cupboard before turning. “It’s a Scar thing, Rayne. I’ve never mentioned anything because I know you want to keep what we are and do out of your life. And you’re doing so much better. Besides, it’s nothing anyway.”
It was true. I didn’t want to know what the Scars did. I knew enough from Anton, and what I’d learned was the Scars fought against CWOs and vampires to protect humans.
But Delara had been good to me and I wanted to help if I could. “If I can help—”
“Really, it’s nothing, okay?” Delara cut me off and her back tensed. Something was wrong. She also just put the sour cream in the cupboard and the oranges in the freezer. “How about we go shopping? We both need new dresses for Danni’s art gala tomorrow night. And, yes, you’re going. Mandatory for all employees.”
“I’m her only employee.” I laughed.
“All the more reason for you to go.”
I made four hundred dollars a week working at Danni’s gallery, and I saved as much as I could. Leaving Toronto would eventually happen because one of these days the Scars were going to sense my abilities and would want me to be a part of their fight.
Every day that I became stronger, so did my powers shifting through my body; it was as if they slowly woke from a long sleep. Soon my shields wouldn’t be enough to keep them hidden and the Scars would find out I was one of them.
I’d never use my ability again. I wouldn’t. If the Scars wanted me as part of their fight, I’d have to leave.
