My brow furrows. “But?—”
“He did it for a reason. Not only was your father powerful, but he also had many people willing to take him down. Which they succeeded in doing.”
“And what are you to him?”
“I looked up to your father. Our fathers were once friends. When my father died, yours helped me. He paid for me to get through college. I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.”
“So, you owe him?” I ask.
He thinks about my question, his gaze never leaving mine. His stare is intimidating.
“I do. It’s why you’re here, and I haven’t told the Society about you. But I guess you already know that since you somehow got into one of the parties.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “I remember you now.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do. It’s the eyes. Even if you change your hair color, your eyes are very telling.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment,” he says matter-of-factly. “Your father has spoken with me about your…” He pauses and smirks before he adds, “Colorful thoughts.”
“Yes.” I don’t bother to hide it—what would be the point? This man can see right through me and has the information I want.
“It would stem from your childhood.” His words make my stomach clench.
“What do you mean?”
“Your father took you hunting a lot, not for the Society, just hunting in general. If I recall correctly, you even saw him hunt a person.”
“I’m sorry, what?” This new information takes me aback, and I can feel the nerves skyrocketing in my stomach.
“You were there by mistake. The Hunts are usually only for members of the Society, but you were present. I was the only one to see you because I lived off your father’s words and orders and couldn’t step away. Yet I remember you. It’s normal for that type of thing to be suppressed.”
I shake my head, my father is in the Society. I’m not even sure how to process that. “They hunt people.”
“I won’t go into details, but I think we should make a plan to meet once a week. I’d suggest you stay far away from all the men in the Society, especially if you plan on keeping your head. And I’m not saying this to protect you. I’m saying this for the sole fact that I owe your father.” He leans forward. “I couldn’t care less if you died walking out my door.” He sits back in the chair and smiles. “How does next Friday at nine work for you?”
“I don’t need therapy,” I state.
“Oh, but you do. Tell me, Lilith,”—one side of his lip quirks up— “does the blood turn you on?” I gasp at his question and wonder how he knows that, but he simply chuckles. “You didn’t immediately say no, so your non-answer is good enough. Let’s wrap this up. And remember, stay the fuck away from the Society. I will not protect you if they find out who you are.”
“I don’t need your protection,” I growl, getting to my feet.
“If you say so.” He waves to the door, not bothering to get up. I walk out and don’t look back. When I get to my car, I look up to find him staring down at me from his window, a small smile playing on his lips.
How deep was my father in the Society?
How much of my childhood don’t I remember?
I always believed my father was a bad man, and no one ever corrected me. My aunt never spoke much about what he did. He was caught red-handed, killing someone. And now he’s in prison for the rest of his life. That’s all I know.
Deven is standing next to my car as I walk out of the grocery store. I huff out a sigh at seeing him. His hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are slumped as he looks around.
“Deven,” I say as I approach with my arms full of groceries.
“Lil, how are you? I saw your car and wanted to stop by and say hello.”
I move past him and open the trunk, placing my bags in there before I shut it. When I turn, he’s blocking my way to the driver’s side door.
