“Can I ask you to do something?”
“You can ask me anything. Always.”
I hesitated because Kilter was going to be difficult about this. “Roarke.” His eyes narrowed.
“The Grit at the art gala?”
I nodded. “Don’t let anyone hurt him.”
“He’s a Grit, babe. They kill humans and have no remorse for it.”
“Roarke does,” I whispered.
Kilter cupped the back of my neck, his fingers locked in my hair. “You care about this guy? A Grit? He’d suck the oxygen from your lungs without a second thought. Fuck, he watched you suffer in that place and did fuck all about it.”
I raised my hand and gently stroked his cheek. “Roarke isn’t like my husband, Kilter.”
“Stop calling that bastard your husband. He forced you to marry him, didn’t he?” When I nodded, he continued, “The title doesn’t belong to him.”
Kilter was right. Anton didn’t deserve that title. He didn’t deserve me.
“Grits can’t be trusted, Rayne. It’s who they are.”
“Roarke protected me. He kept me away from Anton as much as he could.”
“He should have got you the fuck out of there. It’s bullshit.”
“Maybe he couldn’t.”
“Or maybe he didn’t want to.”
I’d thought about that, too. Had Roarke liked that I was a captive? Had he hoped my husband would put us together—again? Had he enjoyed what we were forced to do? It had been an experiment, one that failed.
Kilter climbed out of bed then reached over and brought me with him, his arm around my waist. “We’re late for the meeting.” He placed a light kiss on my forehead before letting me go and snagging his jeans off the floor. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“He mentioned a woman who was at the compound. Says she’s dangerous. He warned me about her. He doesn’t want to hurt me.” He grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it down over his head, not saying anything. “Kilter?”
“Babe, trusting a Grit is out of any realm of possibility for me. Can’t do it. Won’t.” He tossed my clothes to me. “Waleron is an asshole when we’re late. Put some clothes on.”
I STOOD ON THE far side of the living room near the window, Kilter next to me with his arm possessively around my waist. Keir, Anstice, Danni, and Balen stood over by the mantel talking quietly. Hack sat cross-legged on the couch, fingers tapping on his cell phone, and Jedrik lounged on a chair, one leg bent over the other looking bored, but from the way his narrowed eyes constantly shifted to the door, he wasn’t.
The front door open and closed, then came the click of high heels on the hardwood floor. I sensed the immediate change in everyone as chatting stopped and heads turned to the approaching woman—including me.
Kilter whispered, “Trinity. She’s a witch with her own coven outside the city. She’s also a fuckin’ bitch. Don’t trust a word out of her mouth.”
Even with my ability shielded, the energy in the room was so tense it leaked into me. And the second she appeared, I saw why. Trinity looked like a deadly panther, long sleek legs that covered the ground with quiet stealth. Ebony hair with a hint of blue hung straight and thick down her arched back to the cusp of her butt. Shoulders straight and narrow, matched her unusual height for a woman of maybe five ten.
“Where is that stupid girl?” Trinity asked in a honeyed voice as she stopped in the archway into the living room. “I swear I will cast a gilded web around her and lock her in the basement for the next fifty years.”
I flinched and Kilter tightened his hold.
Trinity cocked her hip, hand resting on it, lips blazing bold red that matched her long fingernails. Her blueberry eyes careened around the room, shifting to each of us until they landed on me.
Kilter stiffened as Trinity’s eyes swept over me from head to toe. She licked her lower lip and raised her thin, exaggerated brows. I wanted to slink under Kilter’s arm, but another side of me—the new strong and confident side—met Trinity’s gaze head-on. It helped having one of the most dangerous and fearless men standing beside me.
Her vision moved to Jedrik and Keir, then to Anstice and her expression changed from haughty to warm as she smiled openly at her. That was interesting.
Trinity strolled over to her, arms outstretched. “Anstice, you look lovely as always.” They hugged—Keir rolled his eyes—then the witch reached down and patted Finn on the head.
“Trinity helped save Anstice’s life,” Kilter informed me as if he could read my thoughts. I checked my shields, but they were strong, meaning Kilter was getting to know what I was thinking without penetrating my mind.
Waleron entered the room and moved off to the far side where no one else was. He leaned against the wall, one foot resting on it, arms crossed, eyes on Trinity who chatted with Anstice. He gave the impression he was bored, but from my encounter with Waleron, I suspected he was anything but. I noticed he’d taken out a duck-head candy container twice in the last minute and eaten whatever was in it.
“Well?” Trinity strolled away from Anstice and her gaze settled on Waleron. Her tongue slid slowly over her lower lip and it glistened with wetness. “What has Abigail done this time? I’m guessing she’s caused a mess. Otherwise, you’d have never called me here.”
Jedrik grumbled something I couldn’t make out.
Trinity tapped her long fingernails on her hip where she had her hand resting. “She left the coven nearly a year ago with the scent of a Scar all over her. Is that what this is about? Did she fuck one of you?” Her eyes shot to Jedrik, who immediately met her gaze and winked. Trinity laughed. “You’d never sleep with a witch, Jedrik, even one as delectable as Abigail. I do believe it was a witch who had you—”