It bothered Justine that other men and women automatically assumed Thomas hurt people. Sure, what the Raiths did was wrong down at its very core, but Justine had walked into it with her eyes open. She knew what Thomas was, and at first it didn't matter. She'd prostituted herself to him--one man--instead of many in the back alleys of Chicago's streets. Which was a thousand times better than Bianca's then offer.
"No," she said sternly, though not unkindly. She wasn't capable of being mean, and maintained that pleasantly distant expression. "He's not hurting me, he never would. And he's no danger to you either." Not now that Thomas was feeding on Justine again. She'd maintain that by staying intimate with David on occasion, and Thomas would get his sustenance from her.