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I walked upstairs into the kitchen, rinsed the soup bowl, put it in the dishwasher, and took out the ingredients to make her a chicken sandwich. I was spreading butter on the bread when Keir spoke to me telepathically.
“Meeting in three hours. Mandatory. Bring Rayne.”
Fuck. I hated meetings and Rayne didn’t need to listen to a bunch of Scars discussing the sewer rats of the city. I pressed my palm down on the thick sandwich before it toppled over on the plate. A loud thump stole my attention.
Then several more thumps and glass shattering.
What the fuck?
Maybe someone else was pissed at having a meeting.
I headed through the dining room, living room, and into the foyer and stopped. The library doors were closed and whoever was in there was pissed.
“When are you moving out?” Jedrik sauntered down the hall toward me. “Or do you plan on another round of Rest by following that instinct of yours?”
I shrugged. Following my instinct made life simpler. Even when I rescued Ryker from Rayne’s psycho scientist husband, I’d gone in with no plan. Plans usually involved others, which meant others knew what you were doing, a mistake I’d learned from.
Jedrik curled his arm around the stair post. “Did Rest teach you anything or just piss you off more?”
“Yeah,” I said without moving a muscle, eyes glaring. “It taught me to kill Scars who piss me off.”
Jedrik laughed. “Let me guess, I piss you off.”
I snorted as the library door flung open and both of us turned.
Delara stormed out and marched straight past me, through the kitchen, and out the back door.
“Fuck,” Jedrik muttered. “That shit between them needs to end before they combust.”
I walked over to the library and looked inside. There were several books on the floor, a broken statue, and a shattered glass vase. My eyes hit Waleron standing by the window looking as if he’d had an afternoon chat with Delara instead of a heated argument.
“Keir said there’s a meeting and Rayne is supposed to come. She isn’t ready for that shit.” I kept my voice calm. Being sent to Rest again was unproductive and would put Rayne at risk without me here to protect her. I had to keep my shit together.
Waleron glanced over at me, brows lifted. “Maybe not, but she will attend anyway. We require information and she may have it. How is she after the attack?”
I clenched my jaw, not liking his answer. “Good as can be expected. But she’d be in vampire hands right now if I hadn’t been there. I can’t even trust you guys to watch over one girl.” I turned to stalk out when his voice stopped me.
“It won’t work this time,” Waleron called.
“What?” I swung around and glared at the man who’d put me in Rest for six bloody months to relive Rayne’s, Gemma’s, my own fuckin’ screams.
“You can’t fight this one alone.”
“You want to make a bet?”
Waleron straightened and came toward me. “You don’t get it, do you? Trust. That’s what you lack. And that is the only way you’ll win this battle.”
I stiffened, meeting his glare. “Last time I did that, my woman was raped, then killed. I was tortured for ten years. You know what that’s like, don’t you, Waleron? Being tortured day after day for years.”
“Rayne is not Gemma, Kilter. If you had listened to us when we tried to explain what happened, you would know the truth. But you refused to talk about it and now you don’t deserve it. You’re so filled with anger that you can’t see through to the truth.”
“You should fuckin’ talk,” I retorted.
Waleron’s jaw clenched. “Do not make Rayne the savior for your past or it will destroy what you already have.” He approached and stopped a foot away. “Rayne is a Scar, Kilter.” What the fuck? I hadn’t seen that coming. “And you will bring her to the meeting.” Waleron brushed past me and walked out the front door.
