“And your mother?”
He folded his muscled arms over his chest and held her in a narrowed stare. “Why are you asking so many questions about this?”
His defensiveness took her aback. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just curious. I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You.”
“What for?”
“Because I want to know more about you. Because I care . . . about you.”
She looked away from him and shook her head again. “And because I don’t have parents to talk to anymore, to ask what they think about my choices or anything else in this world. I’m just curious what it’s like to have parents who are a constant in your life.”
Rafe reached out to her, drawing her gaze back to him with his fingers resting gently beneath her chin. “What are you talking about? I know you’ve been grieving over your family these past few months, but it sounds like they’ve been gone for much longer than that.”
She hadn’t intended to carve into her own psychic wounds. Rafe’s coaxing, solemn stare drew the words out of her as easily as his caress on the side of her face. “I was alone even before my family was killed in the London bombing. My parents lived for JUSTIS. So did my brother. Their work sent them all over the world, which meant I was raised by strangers most of my childhood. Nannies, governesses, boarding schools here in the States. I felt so lonely back then. I didn’t realize it could be possible to feel even emptier, like I do now that they’re really gone. Now that I truly have no one left.”
“No,” Rafe said. “That’s not right. You’re mistaken about having no family left. You’re a daywalker, Devony. That means your mother was unique too.”
“Yes. She was born Breed, a Gen One who could also walk in daylight. Her early years were hideous. Brutal. She told me a madman raised her as part of a program for genetically designed Breed females.”
Rafe nodded as if he knew. “She was one of Dragos’s experiments. Your mother, along with the half-sisters who were also part of that program before the Order put a stop to it.”
“Half-sisters?” Devony murmured, her heart lurching to think that others had been subjected to the same awful torture her mother had endured.
“You didn’t know there were others?”
“No. I didn’t even consider there could be. Neither did my mother, I’m certain of that. She rarely spoke of that period in her life, and never that she knew of others like her.” Devony swallowed, a strange kind of hope coming to life in her breast. “How many do you think there might be?”
“I know of several personally. And the Order is working toward finding the rest. Tavia Chase is leading that effort, along with Brynne Kirkland. Until the time of the attack in London, Brynne was actually working in that city for JUSTIS.”
Devony gaped, but she couldn’t help it. “My mother had a half-sister in JUSTIS? In the London office? My God.” She sat back, feeling as if a train had just slammed into her. “She never knew. My mom was covert her entire career, rarely home. All that time, she had a sister living in the same city, working in the same organization?”
Rafe nodded. “Which means you have two aunts—one of them right here in Boston. You also have a pair of daywalker cousins, Carys and Aric Chase. They’re both working with the Order now.”
“My cousins.” She could hardly contain the bubble of excitement that swelled in her. Or the sudden flood of uncertainty. “Do you think . . . do you think they would ever want to meet me?”
He chuckled. “I have no doubt about that whatsoever.”
“Will you help? I know that’s asking a lot, especially considering the way things are between you and the Order—”
“I’ll make it happen for you, Devony. Whatever it takes, as soon as you’re ready to.”
His reply was so sincere, so resolute, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”
She drew back and drank in his handsome, solemn face. “Thank you for telling me about them. That’s more than enough right now. It’s everything.”
He tipped his head and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You’re not alone, Devony.”
“Oh, God, I want to believe that so badly.” She stared into his penetrating eyes, watching their oceanic color begin to smolder with fire. His gaze felt like a promise, one she was afraid to trust, no matter how desperately she wanted it.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he uttered, his deep voice raw with tenderness . . . and desire.
“Make me believe it, Rafe.”
