Resolved to behave as naturally as she could, she stripped and turned up the shower as hot as she could tolerate. Her skin felt like it was melting, and she sighed deeply. She didn't mind sleeping on the floor, but she did mind not getting a regular hot shower. Too afraid to take more than a quick rinse-off with the vamps around, she even bathed within reach of a knife or two.

After a lengthy shower, Jenn exited and pulled on clean leggings, sports bra, and socks. Her muscles felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. She yanked the door open, spirits lifted.

"What happened to you?" Darian demanded. He crossed to her and touched her side, where a long bruise wrapped around her hip. His touch sent fire through her, and she shivered at the sensation.

Jenn glanced down. She didn't even feel the bruises and scrapes covering her body, but she felt Darian's scorching fingers. The wounds healed as she watched, his magic caressing her from the inside in a way that-she was embarrassed to admit-was arousing. She pulled on a shirt.

"That's the price you pay for being surrounded by vamps," she said, unconcerned. "I get in skirmishes almost every day. If it's not them, it was Xander kicking my ass in the gym. Sometimes I think he was trying to improve my skills. Other times, I know he was just fucking with me." She stepped away from his warmth in the cold room, gaze sweeping over his broad shoulders and whiplike frame.

"You didn't tell me this, either."

"I'm doing my job, Darian," she replied. "I didn't get to my position as the head of Dusty's intel networks by backing down from assignments that even most male Guardians wouldn't take."

"This is where we're different. People who hurt me end up dead."

"I wouldn't be a good spy chief if I killed my sources."

"I always liked you, Jenn."

She glanced at him. The small smile was on his face again as he watched her. He had his brother's intensity. She instinctively assessed him for weaknesses the way she did everyone. Claire was his only pressure point. He had no sense of his own mortality and fighting skill that rivaled Xander's.

It was a dangerous combination. If he had Damian's temper, he'd be in trouble. But he seemed calmer than the White God, more driven. Darker.

"You keep looking at me like I'm the vamp that ate your cat," Darian said.

"I've watched you and Jonny change from people I know into people I don't," she replied.




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