“I don’t know,” Delilah murmurs, “perhaps it was just some human gang war. These sorts of things do happen you know.”
Rita gives her a sharp look, then turns to me. “Tegan, did the man who beat you up today look like a member of a gang?”
“Not unless it’s suddenly become stylish for gang members to wear brown leather dress shoes and woolly jumpers.” I answer. “Oh and not unless middle class dads are now partaking in gang membership.”
Delilah narrows her gaze on me. Rita laughs and nods her head to the dhamphir. “You see?” she asks, but before Delilah can respond, Rita’s entire body bucks forward as though she’s having a fit. She lets out a loud wail of pain and then collapses onto the floor.