“How would I know?”

Rhiannon gave the older woman a steady look.

It didn’t escape her notice that Julianna’s concern was not for her own well-being. It never had been, not when Rhiannon first visited her university office, and not later when she’d shown up bearing evidence of being stabbed in the kidney. Even now, the Watcher’s concern was over the Italian girl rather than the Council asset sitting alongside her. It didn’t surprise Rhiannon any longer. She wasn’t angry, but she did want to make the point. The slayer wrapped her fingers around the edge of the bench. When she spoke again, her voice was calm, polite.

“He was a betrayer of me,” she said. “I don’t scoff at the Council or its purpose. I scoff at my place within it. You don’t care about me. I get that. You think I’m a monster, without even considering what made me one. So I’m not going to defend my opinions of the Council when the very reason I feel this way is looking me in the eye.”

She had said too much. Shown too much.

Rhiannon straightened. “Anyway, I’m glad he’s gone. Looks like I’ve got a fairy godmother.”