“Not really. I just like to hear myself talk.” Marcus sat down, hooking one knee over the other as he eyed me. “As we mentioned yesterday, there are wards up against the Titans, but I’m sure you realize they won’t last forever.”
Back on more comfortable ground, I shifted my weight. “There are also shades. One got hold of Josie’s grandfather.” I paused. “She saw him die.”
His lips thinned. “That is truly unfortunate. How is she handling it?”
“She’s not.” And that was the truth.
He inclined his head. “She’s with Deacon and Luke?”
“How did you guess?”
A real smile formed. “I figured it would take them no time to find you and her. Deacon will be good for her, considering he lost his parents.” A thoughtful look encroached upon his features. “If you had arrived a few months earlier, she could’ve talked to Alex. Of all our people, she would understand.”
Inhaling through my nose, it took everything not to look at her father. Alex would understand. After all, she had seen her mother turned by daimons and, subsequently, had had to end her own mother’s life.
Happy times.
“Do you care for her?” Marcus abruptly asked. I blinked.
“Josie,” he clarified, like that was fucking necessary at that point. “Solos said you did not sleep in your room last night.” He held up his hand. “Yes, Solos kept an eye on you two, and, no, I do not care to know the details.”
“Then I don’t know what kind of answer you’re looking for,” I replied.
Marcus studied me for a moment, and then I heard the door open. I turned in time to see Alexander slipping out of the room. Very few people could be quieter than me. He was apparently one of them. When I turned back to Marcus, he was staring at the closed door. “He does not trust you.”
“I don’t expect him to.”
Marcus’s gaze shifted to mine. “He will one day.”
I smiled, but everything was brittle and wrong about it. “Why would he? It was his daughter—”
“She is also my niece—not was, Seth, and you’ve paid a heavy restitution.”
Something knocked around in my chest, a cold and hollow thing—a very real reminder. “No. No, I haven’t.”
Chapter 20
MY HEAD was spinning on sensory overload.
From the moment Deacon and Luke had walked into the room, they hadn’t stopped talking. Well, one of them had disappeared— Deacon—long enough for me to shower and change, and he was back by the time I walked out of the bathroom. He was wearing jeans and a sweater instead of the pajama pants, and his hair was a damp, curly mess of adorableness.
They had a way about them of coaxing information out of me. They could’ve been spies for a Greek Secret Society or something, and I was just forking over details on my life in Missouri and at college. Erin had been welcoming, but these boys were something else. The only thing they didn’t get out of me was anything about my grandparents or my mother. I wasn’t…I just couldn’t talk about them right then.
I didn’t know if Seth would be happy with me leaving the room, but the boys didn’t seem to care. They took me out and in the morning sunlight, which seemed harsher and stronger in South Dakota, then guided me to a one-story square building that housed community rooms and a cafeteria nicer than the one at Radford. Nicer, as in there were granite countertops in the prep areas, the people serving the food were extraordinarily gorgeous, and the place smelled great—like peaches and not like greasy food.
Deacon, chatting on about something, loaded me up with bacon, and Luke plopped a bottle of OJ in my other hand before they ushered me toward an empty, sparkling clean, round table.
My eyes were wide and I barely heard anything they were saying to me. I couldn’t stop staring at the people at the other tables.
And they were staring at us.
Not for the same reason I was staring—my eyes were glued to them due to their crazy insanely good looks. Everyone looked like they had stepped off a film screen or runway. Almost everyone had startling eye colors—bright sky-blue, emerald-green, whiskey-brown, and even purple.
Who in the hell had amethyst-colored eyes?
Some of the students—I guessed they were students—weren’t paying attention to us. They were huddled in little groups at the tables, textbooks spread out between them. It was so painfully familiar that it forged a lump in my throat, but others were looking, and I couldn’t say their looks were all that friendly.
A nearby icy blonde with deep, forest-green eyes stared in our direction, her full lips pressed together. Beside her, a tall and lanky guy with reddish-brown hair had his baby-blue eyes narrowed in our direction. Maybe I was paranoid.
I twisted around and glanced over my shoulder in the other direction. A brunette with a perfect nose curled her lip up.
Okay. Not so paranoid.
Popping back around, I met Deacon’s gray gaze. “Is it just me or…?”
“Is everyone staring over here? Yep.” He leaned forward, holding another strip of crispy bacon. “Some of them are staring because they think you’re mortal and they don’t understand why you’re here.”
Sitting beside him, Luke nodded. “We’ve never really been close to mortals. Having to hide what we are makes any kind of relationship with them difficult, so seeing a mortal here is like spotting a unicorn or chimera.” I arched a brow.