Genevieve slowly came to her feet and walked over to me. “You care for Delara.” It was a statement.
“I protect all the Scars,” I replied.
“Yes, but some more than others. Delara has found another, and now, she is no longer yours. That is your mistake.”
What the hell was she talking about? A cold wash of dread blanketed my skin. “Who?”
“You don’t deserve to know.” She put her hands together above her head and her seductive body glowed blue then swirled into a mist of water before disappearing.
THE GUYS DIDN’T LOOK surprised to see me when I arrived at the Talde house. Keir, Damien, Jedrik, and Hack stood in the foyer and each nodded in greeting. However, none said anything. Well, Damien didn’t nod, he glared. But I expected a cold reception. Shit, I’d betrayed them then fucked off.
Waleron appeared within seconds of me walking into the house and, without saying anything, he went directly into the library. Everyone followed. Then Waleron slammed the door closed.
In his usual fashion, the Taldeburu was unemotional and direct. “Rest for ten years and exile for fifty years in the Pyrenees Mountains.”
Coldness sank into me. I’d known this was coming, yet still, being sent to Rest seriously sucked. “Our law must be changed.” I looked to each of the Scars. “I’ve proven that consuming vampire blood doesn’t mean we’ll become one of them.”
Keir raised his brows. “You challenge the law?”
“Fuck yeah. And since I’ll be in Rest, I ask that the law be taken to the Deaconry by one of you.”
“I second that,” Jedrik said, as he leaned back on the couch, legs outstretched, and ankles crossed. “Always wanted to go to the Deaconry and meet that hot Wraith, Genevieve.”
Waleron shot Jedrik a warning glower. “No Scar may enter the Deaconry, as you very well know. The law was put in place for good reason. A vampire’s blood is powerful and its effects are deadly. You may have been able to withstand its poison, but no other has in hundreds of years.”
“Then contain them,” Jedrik suggested. “Until they fight it off or don’t. At least, they have a chance that way.”
“Fuck that. No warrior should drink the fuckin’ poison in the first place.” Damien scowled at me, his stance stiff and unbending. Yeah, no one likes you, asshole. Jedrik nicknamed him women-hater and he was. Damien was a volatile, cold bastard who didn’t give a crap about anyone but himself. “You betrayed us. You should be dead.”
Jedrik leapt from the couch and went for Damien. Keir grabbed Jedrik, threw him to the ground, and twisted his arm behind his back. “Leave it.”
Damien was among the most lethal warriors, with little patience and even less mercy. He’d already been sent to Rest a few years ago for beating up another Scar and nearly killing him. Unstable, dangerous, and now he’d have it out for Jedrik.
“I’ll bring it up at the next Deaconry meeting, but I suspect nothing will change,” Waleron said. “It’s time.”
Rest sucked. But it was better than dead. I nodded.
Jedrik sighed. “Sorry, man. This friggin’ blows big time.”
I shrugged. I deserved worse for my betrayal.
I’d returned to Toronto knowing what I faced. But leaving Danni . . . Jesus, everything in me was screaming to stay near her, but I’d already done enough damage to those I cared about. Images of Danni swirled in my mind, of last night, of her in my arms moaning my name. My cock deep, thrusting into her and feeling her clench around me.
The door burst open.
All eyes turned toward it. Delara stood like a warrior ready for battle. She wore all black, leather boots climbing up her calves to her knees with tight black jeans. Her flashing walnut eyes narrowed as she met each man’s stare. “Balen saved Danni’s life. I saw what she suffered when we rescued her. We all did.” She turned to me. “You sacrificed yourself knowing you’d be killed for drinking Ryszard’s blood. But that’s why we’re here, to protect the humans.”
“This is bullshit. The decision is not yours, Delara,” Damien growled. “It’s been decided.”
Delara met Damien head on. “You’re being a dick. Just because your sorry ass has been sent to Rest doesn’t mean others deserve the same fate. And obviously sending you to Rest did nothing for your shitty personality.”
Waleron stood three feet away from Delara and his eyes hadn’t left her since the moment she appeared. Cold and calculating. His expression looked as if he were fighting a rage that had enveloped every molecule. “But Damien is right. The Deaconry has made their decision, Delara.”
“Obviously, you didn’t fight hard enough. Appeal it.” Delara cocked her hip and placed her hand on it.
Jedrik was staring at Delara, his mouth agape. Guess he hadn’t known she was back. “Delara? What the hell? Where have you been?”
Delara ignored Jedrik and remained staring at Waleron. A bolt of lightning couldn’t break their magnetic stare apart.
“Delara. In private,” Waleron said.
Shit, Delara had to be blocking him from her mind, otherwise they’d have all the privacy they needed using telepathy. That had to be pissing Waleron off even more.
Her brows rose. “No, thanks. And anything I have to say can be said in front of the Talde.”
I noticed Waleron’s hands clench, matching his jaw. His lips pursed and the books on the shelf behind Keir began to jiggle. The bar on the far side of the room shook and the air grew warm, as if Waleron’s rage was heating the oxygen. “Delara,” Waleron ground out.