I leaned against the table with a false air of indifference as I watched the male she’d referred to as Mac stomp past the blonde who’d been hovering around me to face my female.

My female. I thought, my head tipping as I considered the strange concept. I hadn’t realized when the word became a common attribute at the thought of the perplexing mortal, but I pushed the thought further to the back of my mind in favor of more entertaining sights.

I was curious as to why Mac ignored this Jennifer, but the look he threw her way promised retribution. Aside from the anger I could pick up from his scent, he smelled mostly of the untouched meal still laid before me—like he’d bathed himself in the ingredients.

As he squared up to Darra, I eyed his clothing. The male stood a little taller than Darra. He wore a pink printed skirt that came up to his upper thigh and a yellow top, slightly unbuttoned at the top to expose a smooth chest. His boots were black, tight, and high, hugging his lean body. His curly hair was a mop of red, and I could pick out the smell of chemicals from it—almost making me sneeze. This was why I preferred to stay within my estate. These mortals poisoned themselves with toxic chemicals that constantly overwhelmed my senses.

When I’d first arrived on this plain, the adjustments had been a challenge. Now, I’d learned enough to suppress my aura and better control my other unique features.

“Darra, honey,” he started, his anger barely leashed. “You and your dad—bless his soul—have been long-time customers of this place, and I truly appreciate it.” Pausing for emphasis, he continued, “But please, babe, that you are one of my oldest definitely does not mean that you will take this place for granted…”

“Mac, I would never…” she defended herself but quickly shut her mouth when the other male brought his finger up, cutting her off.

“I’m just saying…” he stressed, pinching his nose. He looked ridiculous in that garb, and even with the attire, he still radiated quiet authority. “…I am not against bringing the people in your life here. Hell!” he exclaimed, spreading his hands and gesturing around the diner. “The more, the merrier. But please, babe… maintain public decency. Families come here every day, and they more than often bring their little ones with them.”

Looking a bit chastised, a flush of embarrassed red crept onto her cheeks. Oddly, I wasn’t pleased with this outcome. From the moment I met this uncanny human with a propensity for danger, she’d been nothing but bold, determined, and decisive. But here was a different version of her—a version I couldn’t say I liked entirely, though I found myself confused as to why. She opened her mouth to make another statement but was cut off again.

“Still talking, love…” he snapped. The red in her cheeks bloomed brighter.

I found the situation a bit irritating, but I played a game of stoicism. I couldn’t show my interest—not when I wasn’t sure why I had any at all. As I pondered the different nuances of emotions she stirred within me, something strange happened. For the first time in centuries, I absorbed the feel of another's aura. Barely a light trickle but an altogether undeniable feeling—especially for one in my situation. I tuned in my senses only for the sensations to be cut short. I looked around, hoping to locate the source, only to be inevitably drawn back to the scene before me.

“I’d very much appreciate it if you could refrain from getting your boyfriend off near other people’s food,” he deadpanned.

It was like a slap to the face. She flinched so hard her body shook. Bowing her head, she murmured an I’m sorry. I was only able to make it out because of my sharp hearing.

My eyes trained on her form—not liking her subdued nature in the least or the eyes that cast judgment on her—I reached over and, with little effort, pulled her back into my lap. She yelped in surprise, caught off guard by my action. Her eyes found mine, and the liquid brown was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. The way she looked at me was addictive—like she couldn’t believe I was real… until I touched her.

I touched her cheek, bringing a fresh bloom to it. The meaning behind it was clear in her twinkling eyes. I had to be careful. I couldn’t fall for the same trap all over again—not when she looked at me like I’d hung the stars for her.

“Drane,” she whispered, almost reverently.

A hysterical laughter broke us out of the intimate cocoon surrounding us. The yellow-haired Jenny bent over, one hand on her knee, laughing hysterically as her other hand clutched her belly. I eyed her with irritation as tears streamed down her cheeks from the force of her mirth.

“Bo… boyfriend,” she gasped. “…boyfriend!” she exclaimed, bursting into another fit of laughter.

Mac sighed, “Jenny.”

At the same time, Darra said, “Excuse me?”—incredulous.

The other female straightened, wiping the tears that trailed down her cheeks. She pinned Darra with a look I’d seen several times. The facade of her sweet, kind personality fell away to reveal what I’d always seen in her aura.

“As if,” Jenny scoffed, heaping the word with enough disdain.

“Excuse me!” Darra said again, clearly caught off guard.

Malice glinted in Jenny’s eyes as she turned to face us. “What’s the catch?... Hmm?” She cocked her head to the side, smiling like she had some hidden knowledge of the female still on my lap.

“I—I don’t—I don’t understand,” Darra stuttered, shaking her head, clearly flustered.

“You never do.” Jenny shook her head emphatically. “That’s what makes you so pathetic. So what is it this time… hmm?” she asked, approaching the female still in my lap, her look appraising. “He looks rich enough. I mean, his clothes are designer brands—though I bet you couldn’t tell—but that rules out money.”

Gaping in disbelief, Darra gingerly stood to face the blonde-haired Jenny. “Okay. What is your problem with me?”

“My problem?” Jenny chuckled maniacally. “My problem is that you are such a hypocritical bitch.” She snarled, continuing, “You think strutting around school with your head in the clouds is going to hide your existential mommy issues?”

“What?” Darra asked, flummoxed.

“Ha!” Jenny laughed cruelly, the sound echoing in the loud space. “News flash, bitch. The people around you were only there for the money. Every. One. Of. Them.” She stressed each word, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

“You don’t have a clue who I am.”

“Oh!” Jenny mocked innocently. “Aside from an attention-seeking, naive, good-for-nothing bitch that has a talent for spending daddy’s money to keep people in her life and to hide how undesirable she is as a person?” She smirked—nowhere near finished.

“Subject being the V-card between your legs. Even daddy’s money can’t change that. Can it?” she snarked.

“Jenny!” Mac exclaimed, aghast. “One more word, and you are fired.”

She didn’t care in the least, because she fired on like her employer hadn’t said a word.

“Oh. Is that it? Is that what it is?” she asked, eyeing Darra with fake interest, her gaze appraising. “He hasn’t scratched that perverse little itch? Still leading him on a leash? Then again, the promise of a virgin pussy is too good an offer to pass up for most guys.”

Flashes of memories—long buried—made their way through the cinches in my armor. The numerous eyes that were there to bask in your pain and embarrassment. The parties who pretended like they were helping, while in truth, they had a front-row seat to your distress. The attack and accusation from an unknown entity, suddenly out for your blood.

I took it all in as I eyed the trembling female—looking alone and fragile, forced under scrutiny she was unprepared for—and felt an encompassing wave of empathy. Knowing what it feels like pushed me to my feet. I could pick up faint notes of salt from her, and that little vulnerability she strained not to show had me clasping my hands on her trembling shoulders. Being a lot taller than everyone else had most of the spectators drawing back. The small retreat gave her a sense of stability… or maybe it was the unspoken backup I provided. Either way, she straightened, unclenching her fist.

She said nothing. But her spine stiffened.

Then…

Hair tossed, she strutted out past Jenny.

“Hey, Jenny,” Darra called out, finding her strength again. “Nice to have a talent for something that doesn’t include whoring myself to other people’s partners.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she added, “Unlike yourself.”

“You godforsaken bitch!” Jenny screamed, leaping for an attack.

I could have stopped it, but my little female proved herself a warrior. Without hesitation, she jumped aside, dodging the attack that sent the other female sprawling on the floor before me. Not giving her a chance, Darra grabbed her hair, deftly twisting her right arm behind her back. Pinning it there, she rolled the length in her hand with practiced ease—somehow maneuvering it so it was held by the hand that pinned her arm—exposing her face. Still holding her firmly as the other female screamed and struggled, she raised her other hand and delivered a resounding slap to her face. The force rocked Jenny. A shocked gasp echoed among the people gathered around. Mac moved to interfere—but a deadly look from me quelled his movement.

“That is for all the verbal abuse I received here today. And this…” Another resounding slap, this time drawing blood. “…is for mentioning my dad with that filthy mouth of yours.”

She leaned down, whispering, “As you said, I have daddy’s money—so I don’t mind spending it in court.” Releasing the gasping female, she cocked her head to one side, coldly eyeing the tears leaking down her cheeks with disinterest. I silently applauded.

“I will be in touch,” she said, grabbing her bag and stepping over the prone form on the floor. The crowd parted for her as she made her way out. Pausing by the door, she called out:

“Oh, and Mac. You’ve lost a long-time customer today.”

Then she walked out.

Glad to be done with the place, I turned, heading for the exit—only to catch the faint shine of a blazing aura fading out the door in her wake.