And eyes flashing in a way-the-fuck-pissed-off kind of way.

That was all he took in before he had to duck, seeing as she threw something at him.

He didn’t know what it was. He just knew whatever it was was fragile since it exploded with a crash against the doorjamb behind him.

“Early morning training session?” Delilah shrieked, turned, and that was when he saw she had allies. He saw this because Sonia and Leah were lined up beside her, Leah handing her a vase.

A vase she threw.

“Jesus! What the fuck?” Hook shouted after he jumped out of the way and the vase flew out the door, smashing on the flagstone outside.

“You!” Delilah screeched, jabbing a finger her father’s way as Abel felt the rest of the crew flood through the door behind him. “You were in on this too?”

“Now, little girl—” her father started, hands up in a placating gesture.

But he should have known better. He had years where Abel only had weeks, and still, Abel knew there was no placating this Delilah.

“Don’t you fucking ‘little girl’ me, Dad. I cannot believe you!” she yelled, then moved her finger between the two of them. “Either of you!”

“And, might I add at this juncture, I cannot either, and that includes you, Mighty Vampire Lucien,” Leah drawled dangerously, her eyes slits and aimed at her husband.

“I would think of something clever to say, my king,” Sonia put in. “But I’m having difficulty not ripping someone’s throat out with”—she lost it and leaned forward, eyes narrowed and locked on her husband—“my teeth.”

“Perhaps we can move this out of the foyer,” Lucien suggested.

“Fuck that!” Delilah shouted, her gaze glued to Abel. Then she asked in a saccharine-sweet voice, “You know how I woke up, baby?”

“Bao bei—” he started but did it knowing it was futile.

And it was futile.

“With pain so fucking bad, so fucking hideous, I thought my insides were melting,” she hissed, and Abel flinched. “I couldn’t even crawl out of the bed, it was that fucking bad.”

“Lilah—” he began in a gentle voice, no longer feeling like shit but missing that feeling because the pain of guilt was a far sight worse.

“Excruciating,” she cut him off to hiss. “Paralyzing. And worse, I thought it was that bad, could only be that bad, because you were dead.”

Fuck.

“Baby,” he whispered, moving toward her, but she stepped back.

“And even worse,” she kept going, “was that I was powerless. Drained. I couldn’t even move to find someone to tell them they had to find you.”

She hit wall and Abel kept moving toward her.

“Don’t get near me,” she warned, a warning he didn’t heed.

She tried to fight him. But in half a second, she lost and Abel had her over his shoulder and behind closed doors in one of the living rooms.