“I slipped into some dark days after that, I’ll admit it,” she said. “It was a dark year, but I’m a fighter. Always have been, both physically and emotionally. I’m smart on my feet, have martial arts training, and push through life’s crap. She knew that. After a while, I made peace with it.” She wasn’t sure if her babbling was a defense against Devon’s words, or merely a way to keep herself from sprinting out the door like a rabbit from a fox. Either way, the words kept burbling out. “I hope she’s doing well. I hope she found a guy that treats her well. Or maybe no one at all. Maybe she’ll be happier with only one mouth to feed. With only one person to look after, finally. I hope I see her again, though. Someday.”
Devon’s fists clenched. “No way are you this magnanimous. Your mom walked out on you, and you’re happy for her? I call bullshit!”
“Just because you chose not to forgive, doesn’t mean others need to make the same choice,” Roger replied in the same soft tone.
Devon’s eyes hardened, but it didn’t hide the raw, aching pain hidden beneath the anger. She knew that look—she’d worn it consistently for that dark year. Probably still did, from time to time.
She wasn’t the only one with a past.
Charity dropped her head. “Anyway, she got out a few years before I did. Now I’m here—at school, I mean, not here. With the orange-ness and blue people and… Speaking of here, when can I go home? How do I even…get home…”
“We’ll come back to that,” Roger said, getting up. “How about you get a tour, eat some breakfast, and settle in a little bit. When all of this”—Roger waved his hand around the kitchen, implicating the great wide world outside the walls—“sinks in a little, we’ll come up with a plan. Sound good?”
Charity gave him a vague smile, because saying no to a man like Roger wasn’t something she could stomach at the moment, but no, that didn’t sound good. Tour be damned—she’d find the quickest way out of here and take it. She hadn’t been on the vampires’ chosen list—her mind still stuttered at the idea that those fabled creatures were real—which meant she wasn’t in danger. She could hitch a ride out of here, no problem.
But as she sat idle, thinking, little bits of information stitched themselves together. The handsome man outside of her classroom. The watchers, stalking her and Sam out to the street. The laugh.
Roger thought she was an unplanned wild card, but could he be wrong? While she hadn’t gotten an invite, she’d been approved as a sub for Jessica. Was she now a hunted woman?Chapter TwelveRoger glanced down at Devon. “Send two people with her. Then meet me in my office.”
“Yes, sir.” Devon stood with grim determination. He watched Roger’s back disappear through a door leading deeper into the castle before turning back to Charity.
He took a deep breath to keep a leash on his temper. Despite what Roger had said, he had a hard time believing Charity hadn’t had a deeper purpose in that house. How could a girl who oozed magic not realize she had any? Granted, last night he’d only smelled her—this throbbing electric pulse she gave off was something new—but her magic was too potent to have just started to mature. Much too potent. And even if she hadn’t known about it, no random girl off the street, whether she had fighting training or not, could get past an elder vampire.
She’d taken on a whole house of vampires! It wasn’t just luck and raw power that had gotten her out of there alive. Nor did he believe the vamps had spent the night around her without realizing she was special. Not with that smell. Not with the strange, ethereal quality of her skin, which seemed to glow from within. She was keeping something to herself, he knew it.
Or maybe you’re pissed that she’s in Roger’s favor for some reason, and you walked away nearly empty-handed…
He gritted his teeth and worked on another steadying breath. Last night had been his big chance to prove himself to the best alpha in the world. Probably his only chance, and he was lucky to have even gotten one. All that work for nothing. He’d botched it. He’d only gotten three newbies of nine.
All because he’d needed to guard one girl.
Sure, Roger seemed to think she’d saved them rather than screwed them, but Devon couldn’t help feeling like a failure.
He stared down at the girl’s heart-shaped face and dainty features. Her eyes were almost the same brownish-red as her hair. Her beauty was offset by the firm set to her jaw, the attack readiness of her pose, and the defiant sparkle to her eyes. Her magic poked and prodded him, goading him to violence, drawing out his raw aggression. Her silent challenge was clear, as it had been since she’d woken up. But being that she wasn’t pack, he wasn’t allowed to establish the pecking order.