Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)(15)

“Hack hates eating bugs,” Jedrik announced.

“Really? Any bugs or just certain ones?” Anstice asked as she scooped scrambled eggs out of the bowl and onto her plate.

“Anything with a solid crunch.” Jedrik grabbed a green bean, lifted it to his mouth, and crunched. “Mmm, friggin’ good.”

Hack threw a piece of toast at him, but Jedrik was quick with his telekinesis and sent a strip of bacon back at him.

Fuckin’ idiots.

Jedrik turned to me. “So what’s the deal? You show up in the middle of the night with this chick from the compound?” Everyone had seen me carry a sleeping Rayne through the house into the basement. When the questions started, I ignored them and I told everyone to back the f*ck off. They did. Now, that was ending. “Compound was off the board until Waleron gave the okay.”

“Not off my board,” I said.

“She mean something to you?” he continued.

I wasn’t justifying my actions to any of them. Never had and I wasn’t about to start. And the truth was, I didn’t know, and right now, I was still reeling about Genevieve’s unannounced drop in. I hadn’t seen her in over a hundred years, after I escaped my brother’s torture chamber. Seeing her brought back memories I wanted no part of.

“Waleron’s going to kick your ass,” Jedrik went on. “You sure you don’t want to go back to Vancouver with Quill?” He looked at me, a mild twitch playing at the corners of his mouth like he was trying to keep from smiling.

Interesting. Quill left? He’d come in with me last night, although he stayed upstairs with the other Scars. He’d probably told them what happened at the compound. I was betting it was Anstice who warned him to leave before Waleron found out. *.

I ignored Jedrik and shoved a strip of bacon in my mouth.

“She tell you anything about what the hell that place was besides a Scar testing laboratory? Ryker is too f*cked up and can’t tell us anything.” Jedrik shook his head. “Friggin’ guy has completely lost it. Maybe when we talk to her, she can—”

“No one goes near her.” My fork clattered on my plate as I dropped it. Just the thought of Rayne being interrogated sent my pulse racing.

Jedrik continued, “She has to know something about why the CWOs were there and—”

I slammed my fist down on the table and Jedrik grabbed his juice before it toppled over. “Leave her the f*ck alone. She is screwed up enough and doesn’t need us grilling her.”

“Fuck, man. It’s just a few questions.”

“That she isn’t answering. The CWOs are dead. Compound is gone. End of story.” Yesterday, I remember thinking I’d ask her myself about the compound and hand her over to Waleron to get her memory erased.

Shit changed. Couldn’t do it.

“Waleron might have something to say about that,” Hack mumbled.

“Kilter, we’re on the same team here.” Anstice kept her lyrical voice low. “You can trust us with her.”

“I don’t have to do shit, and I’m not on any f*ckin’ team.”

“Okay,” Anstice said, putting her coffee mug with the profile picture of a Newfoundland down on the table. “But it might be a good idea for us to meet her—no questions—” her eyes shot to Jedrik and he shrugged “—before Waleron gets here. And you know he will hear about this soon.”

I did. I suspected he already knew since the Wraiths did, and they’d have contacted him about it. Waleron was a mystery though. On occasion, he’d disappear for weeks and no one knew where the hell he went.

“Here.” Anstice leaned over the table, grabbed another plate, and set it on the table beside me. “Why don’t you see if she’ll join us for breakfast? I promise, no questions. She’ll feel more comfortable staying here if she meets us.”

Fine. I pushed back from the table and headed downstairs. I paused outside her door—my bedroom door—and took a few deep breaths, waiting until my fists uncurled and the adrenaline pumping through me eased.

I opened the door.

My eyes hit her and the air sucked from my lungs.

The small ground-level window was open and the breeze rushed through the room in a cold embrace. Rayne stood with her back to me, strands of her hair gently swaying from the breeze, arms wrapped around her chest. Her head tilted up at a slight angle as if she was listening to the sounds from outside.

For the first time since I’d met her, she looked peaceful—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and no crease between her eyes. She was a f*ckin’ angel, and I was the devil ready to break her from the magnificence.

“Come upstairs and eat,” I said.

The second I spoke, the peacefulness vanished as she looked at me and stiffened.

Then her head bowed as she said hesitantly, “I’m not really hungry.”

Fuck that. “Wasn’t giving you a choice.”

Her head snapped up.

My brows lifted when I saw the brief flick of anger in her narrowed eyes. So, she did have a backbone in that waif’s body. Good, she’d need it.

It was like watching a balloon deflate as her eyes lowered from mine and her shoulders sagged forward. “Okay.”

Jesus, this chick needed a lesson in how to be a bitch.