Ever since Daphne had left her father's office, there was an unsettling feeling that churned inside her. She knew, for some odd reason, whatever it was that her father wished to discuss with Atticus could not be a topic that she would've liked.
Never mind her newfound powers, never mind Alistair's obvious hatred for her and her husband, Daphne was more aware of the unsavory manner Drusilla had been looking over throughout their short and rather unpleasant dinner reunion. That sister of hers — Daphne had come to realize — seemed to enjoy snatching whatever it was that Daphne could get.
It felt like Atticus was her new target.
"No good hell-born babe," Daphne murmured under her breath, her teeth gnashing together as she walked down the corridors. No one heard her, and even if they did, no one dared to reply.
