The Healer (Seven Sins MC #2) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,3

scrubs walk out first. Together. And each of them much harder targets.

It was an ugly but unavoidable fact that human women were just easier targets. Smaller, lighter, usually not as strong.

Then, like she was the one I'd been waiting for all along, a lone woman moved out the doors of the hospital, her hand raised, toying with the ends of her almost white-blonde hair, her brows drawn together, her lips pursed.

Beautiful.

There wasn't really any other way to describe her. Short, slight, with a pretty face with a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and a lightly cleft chin, she practically looked half-fae under the harsh overhead lights in the parking lot.

She was lost in her own thoughts as she made her way down the lines of cars, making her way toward me, in fact.

Like fate.

If I believed in that bullshit.

You'd likely think I should have felt bad about my intentions.

Planning on snatching an innocent woman right off the street, taking her back to the house, using her to heal Red, then disposing of her because we couldn't exactly leave witnesses around who knew who we were, that we not only existed, but were part of their world.

That could never stand.

When we eventually all got back to hell, it would be the end of us.

We might not be able to die, but we could be made to suffer for all of eternity for that kind of fuck-up.

I had no intentions of having that be my future.

I didn't feel bad.

I had to heal Red.

Even if that meant sacrificing this human.

Chapter Two

Jo

I really didn't like my hair.

It was a silly thing to be harping on so much, but in between tasks all day at work, it was what I defaulted back to.

See, I had done it.

The thing we all say—when we are of sound mind and strong of heart—we will never do again.

I'd been tiptoeing that not-so-healthy mental line for a while, and after I subjected myself to a movie about a woman who "found herself" after taking off to a foreign country and falling in love, I had taken my wine-tipsy self to the bathroom with a pair of somewhat sharp shears and the belief that a new hairstyle would somehow shake me out of the funk I'd been in for months now.

I'd loved it as I stood there right after, adrenaline—and let's not forget the aforementioned wine—still coursing through my system.

But after a halfway decent night of sleep, a shower, and some fresh eyes, I had different feelings. Namely, ones that almost made me late for work because I was frantically trying to find a way to wear it that I liked.

You didn't exactly have a lot of options when you took your once waist-length blonde hair and cut it into a long bob that just barely brushed your shoulders.

I'd once heard that shorter hair made you look older, but it somehow had an adverse reaction for me. I felt like I looked like a child. Which was not what I was going for during my first month at my new job where everyone was already struggling to get to know me and gauge my skills.

I had this particularly tough head nurse who, for some reason or another, decided on sight that she wasn't my biggest fan. All I could think of as I made my way to work that day was her giving me that now legendary side-eye that managed to make me feel very small for any little infraction.

She'd already shown massive displeasure in my tendency to hum a little bit to myself while filling out charts. She also thought I was a pen thief (I am not). And I'd heard her talking to one of the other nurses complaining that I'd brought a magazine with me to flip through during my break instead of socializing.

It took a lot of self-control not to turn the corner and inform her that if maybe she were more welcoming, I would have happily spent my break talking to some of them.

As it was, I felt like an outsider.

So even changing my hair felt like it was bringing unnecessary attention to me that was getting me more hard looks whenever it was mentioned.

I was never so glad to be done with a shift as I gathered my things, wondering if I had enough time to stop off at the store to grab some hair accessories that might help me tame this much shorter hair into some sort of style, so it wasn't such a reminder