a moat.
Maybe it was that he liked her deep hazel eyes. Well, that was the only damn thing about her that wasn’t too skinny. Anstice and Keir were right; she was in desperate need of help. Therapy. Intense. And fast. Danielle was a Reflection, maybe she could get inside her head? She could read emotions like a newspaper. The problem was that Rayne’s mind was the Great Wall of China, and Danielle was new to the Senses and would have to find a way to take it down in order to help.
Maybe Xamien could come from Europe? He was a Taldeburu and a Reflection. Powerful.
He set the treadmill on high speed and began to run. Running was always a sure -as-shit way to rid frustration from his body. Exhaust it, numb out these unbearable emotions. He’d learned how to use exercise over the past hundred years, when he’d been living in his own black void of self-despair. Fuckin’ friends. Yeah, right. Friends were a fallacy. They didn’t exist. They pretended to be for their own benefit, then when it suited them, they’d stab you in the heart or back, whichever was closer.
“You run on that thing any faster and smoke will come out of your ass.”
Kilter glanced at the door to see Delara with a towel around her shoulders and wearing black yoga pants and a skintight white yoga top. Her short-cropped hair hung in disarray across her head in jagged strands. A little too violent looking for his taste.
“What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously. Delara was living at Danielle’s gallery, so showing up at the house at seven in the morning made him wary.
She stretched her limbs, muscles flexing then relaxing again. “Waleron called a meeting this morning. I’m early, so thought I’d piss you off and join you.”
He grunted and raised the incline on the treadmill. He rarely conversed with anyone when in the gym; it was his domain. A place where he drove out emotions until they bled through his sweat.
“Care for a quick grapple?” Delara asked raising her thin arched brows.
Kilter scowled. “You’re a woman.”
She threw her towel, hitting him in the face. “And you’re such a chauvinist.” She headed for the door.
Kilter jumped off the treadmill and grabbed her arm. “Why did you come, Delara? Did Keir tell you to pacify old Kilter’s rage problems before he annihilates poor Rayne with his fists? Do you think I’m that much of a dick?” He released her arm as if it was on fire, shaking his head as he walked back to the treadmill and grabbed his towel.
“Yes , actually I do, but surprisingly, that isn’t why. It’s pretty simple. I didn’t sleep, haven’t been home yet. Waleron asked me to meet him here. To stay awake, I decided to work out. Nothing as complicated as you seem to think in that demented mind of yours. I’m out of here.” Delara yanked open the door.
“Best three of five,” Kilter said while shutting down the treadmill and walking over to the matted area. He avoided looking up to see if she was coming or not, didn’t want her to think he cared if she took him up on the offer or not. The chick wanted to rustle and show her shit , then fine, he’d show her why women and men never competed against one another.
The door shut. Footsteps came towards him. He took his stance.
“Trained by the best, you know,” Delara said. “Pez.”
“Impressive,” Kilter said. “But still a woman.”
She didn’t take his bait as expected. “Let’s make a deal, shall we?”
“There is nothing I want you could possibly give me,” Kilter said.
Delara smiled while taking her stance. “I need . . .”
Kilter huffed. “I don’t fuck on bets.”
“Oh, get over yourself.” She held up her hand when he went to say something. “I need someone to teach me how to cook, and I heard you were the best. I win, you give me five lessons, you win . . . well, you tell me. What do you want?”
“For you to shut up,” Kilter said.
Delara huffed. “Fine, I won’t talk to you for an entire
Maybe it was that he liked her deep hazel eyes. Well, that was the only damn thing about her that wasn’t too skinny. Anstice and Keir were right; she was in desperate need of help. Therapy. Intense. And fast. Danielle was a Reflection, maybe she could get inside her head? She could read emotions like a newspaper. The problem was that Rayne’s mind was the Great Wall of China, and Danielle was new to the Senses and would have to find a way to take it down in order to help.
Maybe Xamien could come from Europe? He was a Taldeburu and a Reflection. Powerful.
He set the treadmill on high speed and began to run. Running was always a sure -as-shit way to rid frustration from his body. Exhaust it, numb out these unbearable emotions. He’d learned how to use exercise over the past hundred years, when he’d been living in his own black void of self-despair. Fuckin’ friends. Yeah, right. Friends were a fallacy. They didn’t exist. They pretended to be for their own benefit, then when it suited them, they’d stab you in the heart or back, whichever was closer.
“You run on that thing any faster and smoke will come out of your ass.”
Kilter glanced at the door to see Delara with a towel around her shoulders and wearing black yoga pants and a skintight white yoga top. Her short-cropped hair hung in disarray across her head in jagged strands. A little too violent looking for his taste.
“What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously. Delara was living at Danielle’s gallery, so showing up at the house at seven in the morning made him wary.
She stretched her limbs, muscles flexing then relaxing again. “Waleron called a meeting this morning. I’m early, so thought I’d piss you off and join you.”
He grunted and raised the incline on the treadmill. He rarely conversed with anyone when in the gym; it was his domain. A place where he drove out emotions until they bled through his sweat.
“Care for a quick grapple?” Delara asked raising her thin arched brows.
Kilter scowled. “You’re a woman.”
She threw her towel, hitting him in the face. “And you’re such a chauvinist.” She headed for the door.
Kilter jumped off the treadmill and grabbed her arm. “Why did you come, Delara? Did Keir tell you to pacify old Kilter’s rage problems before he annihilates poor Rayne with his fists? Do you think I’m that much of a dick?” He released her arm as if it was on fire, shaking his head as he walked back to the treadmill and grabbed his towel.
“Yes , actually I do, but surprisingly, that isn’t why. It’s pretty simple. I didn’t sleep, haven’t been home yet. Waleron asked me to meet him here. To stay awake, I decided to work out. Nothing as complicated as you seem to think in that demented mind of yours. I’m out of here.” Delara yanked open the door.
“Best three of five,” Kilter said while shutting down the treadmill and walking over to the matted area. He avoided looking up to see if she was coming or not, didn’t want her to think he cared if she took him up on the offer or not. The chick wanted to rustle and show her shit , then fine, he’d show her why women and men never competed against one another.
The door shut. Footsteps came towards him. He took his stance.
“Trained by the best, you know,” Delara said. “Pez.”
“Impressive,” Kilter said. “But still a woman.”
She didn’t take his bait as expected. “Let’s make a deal, shall we?”
“There is nothing I want you could possibly give me,” Kilter said.
Delara smiled while taking her stance. “I need . . .”
Kilter huffed. “I don’t fuck on bets.”
“Oh, get over yourself.” She held up her hand when he went to say something. “I need someone to teach me how to cook, and I heard you were the best. I win, you give me five lessons, you win . . . well, you tell me. What do you want?”
“For you to shut up,” Kilter said.
Delara huffed. “Fine, I won’t talk to you for an entire
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