The blanket I lived under—suffocating me for years, yet making me feel safe—lifted a little more each day. It made me feel naked and vulnerable, but it was also freeing.
But there were two issues I hadn’t faced yet. With my weight gain, my abilities had begun to reawaken. The other was Kilter.
A tear escaped and I quickly brushed it aside. He’d lied to me on the rooftop. He’d been cruel and insensitive, but he’d come back. He fought for me.
I knew I saw something in him. There was gentleness and yet, like me, he kept parts of who he was hidden.
Why had he never come to see me? Where did he go? In six months, he never contacted me, and despite not wanting to care, I did. It hurt.
I pushed open the back door of the gallery and walked upstairs, my feet heavier, the bounce in my step slower as thoughts of Kilter lingered.
“Hey, Rayne,” Delara called from the kitchen.
“Hi,” I said. Then my eyes hit Jedrik standing with a beer in his hand while leaning his tall, lithe form against the counter, blond curls untidy and his blue eyes dancing with mischief.
He raised his beer, eyes roaming the length of my body. “Looking totally smokin’ hot, Rayne. Fuck.”
Delara punched his shoulder with the can of soup she was holding. “So inappropriate, asshole.”
He winced and rubbed his arm. “She needs to know she looks hot. Chicks like that.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Jedrik.”
He winked at me, grinning.
I walked over to the kitchen table and reached into one of the grocery bags, pulling out the milk and placing it in the fridge.
“Arrow was just leaving.” Delara raised her brows. “Weren’t you?”
He shrugged, chugged back the rest of his beer, and set it on the counter before shoving away. “Fine. I have work to do anyway.”
“Work? When was the last time you worked at anything?” Delara put the pancake mix up in the cupboard.
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.
I WAS DETERMINED TO find Rayne the sexiest, classiest, dress in the city. She’d gained twenty or so pounds in six months and her eyes no longer looked sunken in. There was a healthy glow to her skin. She had hips and curves, but as she tried on dress after dress, I noticed her uncertainty as she looked at herself in the mirror. I suspected it would take years for her to be confident with how she looked.