Delia didn't know very much about her family. Or, at least, her real family. She knew that Alexander was really her brother and should have been her twin. She knew that her real father was someone who was very powerful and important, and one day would rule the world. She also knew that people feared her, and her brother, and even mentions of her father. And those who didn't fear them, tended to worship them.
Personally, though, Delia didn't care much about any of that. Alexander was all the family she really needed. She'd sensed that about him before he was even born, and she knew it with an absolute certainty that she didn't feel with many other things. Alexander was all that mattered to her, really, aside from her own well being, and now he was gone. He'd left her alone in this place and it really just wasn't fair.
Her thoughts were interrupted by someone joining her on the curb. With a frown, Delia glanced sideways at the young woman, sizing her up intently. The fact that Atticus wasn't growling at this newcomer meant that there was something different about her. The hellhound tended to snarl at anything that drew too close to Delia, after all, save for a very select few.
Then the woman mentioned Alexander, and Delia's brow furrowed in suspicion and frustration. "Yes," she muttered, her gaze going back to the curb. "And the people here won't hit me," she added almost petulantly. "Bad things happen when people try to hurt me."
If it was a warning for this person, Delia didn't let on as much. In fact, no sooner had the words left her mouth and she was already taking another bite of her ice cream while feeding Atticus the last of his.