“Good job I ran you one then, isn’t it?”
She stood and held out her arms for a hug. She was semi corporal, so the hug wasn’t as firm as I’d like, but it was better than nothing.
My eyes pricked as the tears threatened to burst past the dam I’d erected. “I’m glad you’re here, babe.”
“What about me?” Cyril demanded.
“You too. But right now, I just need to be alone. Please.”
There was no need to wait for a response. They’d respect my space. I stepped into the bathroom and closed and locked the door.
I leaned back against it and took a deep breath. I was a target. I was to be protected, but at least I wasn’t a prisoner. But if I was going to be here, if I was going to be a Dominus, then I was going to fucking do it well. There would be no more children dead on my watch. And Mal and Conah could shove their secrets up their asses.
I pushed my slacks off my hips.
First thing tomorrow, I’d confront Mal. Azazel had revealed my heritage, but those two knew more shit. My gut was only ever wrong after a vindaloo.
I peeled off my long-sleeved top and went to unhook my bra and froze. What the fuck was that black mark on my chest? The mirror revealed it in full. It was a symbol.
And I’d seen it before. Recently.
It was the exact same symbol as Azazel’s soul mark, which meant …
Hell, no!
To be continued …