There were two warring factions of Jenna's brain right now... One was the piece that knew how much Xavier loved Greg, and that he would never, in a million years, cheat on his husband. The other part of her mind saw right in front of her what could literally be nothing else... A gorgeous redhead pressed up against the wall by Xavier's solid body, his head tucked in at her throat. But then when he turned to look at her it all became abundantly clear, and there was a part of Jenna that just wanted to throw her hands up in the air and shake her head in disbelief at the whole thing. Was seriously everyone fucking Kindred and she just didn't know it. Her mind went back to Spencer's words about her never knowing for sure how many of their kind were surrounding her.

Jenna felt like a deer caught in headlights when Xavier was staring at her, his eyes the glinting silver that she'd seen Asher's change to that night at Knightshead when he'd fed from her. And then he told her the truth that he was over five hundred years old, and Jenna's mouth dropped open. It all made sense, though. He was the English guy Brodie was talking about. The one who'd lived in the times of Henry VIII, and... Jesus Christ, Jenna's mind wasn't prepared for any of this right now. "Is Greg Kindred, too?" she asked, eyebrows raised in question. "Fuck, who else do I know that's one of you?" She paused, giving Xavier a very stern look and crossed her arms over her chest. "And I know you guys can erase my memory so I won't even remember this happened, but please don't."