Koen is angry— whether at my stupidity or at being saddled with me, I’m not sure. Still, the depth of my lack of . . . of everything is not something I want to contemplate at the moment. “You are correct,” I say calmly, feeling a burning pressure behind my eyes. “And I’m not going to say that I can fend off whoever comes for me. However, if I know about a threat, I can prepare and take care of myself— ”
“I will take care of you,” he says roughly.
Oh. “Oh.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, unkempt hair.
“Koen, you don’t have to— ”
“Serena.” I hear it in his voice, how little patience he has to spare. For the first time, it occurs to me to wonder what his night was like before he appeared to take care of Bob— and of me. The warning phone call from Lowe. The furious drive to reach me. The fear of being too late.
The part of me that matters isn’t interested in you, he’d said, and I do not doubt it. But even if the mate thing means nothing to Koen, even if he doesn’t care about me as a person, I’m still a hybrid who could bridge the gap between Weres and Humans. I’m under his protection, and hearing that I was in danger cannot have been easy. “Thank you,” I say with sincere appreciation. “For coming to get me. For being there right on time.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“Why?”
“I fucking hate it.”
“You hate to be . . . thanked?”
“Yup.”
“I . . . Why?”
“If I’m doing something, you can be sure that I chose to of my own free will.” He falls silent for a moment. Then his nostrils flare and he turns to scan my face, his expression increasingly horrified.
“What?” I ask. “Is a moth crawling up my nostril, or— ” I pat my cheek with my palm, and it comes back wet.
That’s what’s upsetting him.
“Oh.” Koen just killed someone without batting an eye but cannot take me shedding a single teardrop. “I’m fine,” I reassure him. His alarm doesn’t abate. It’s like I’ve just been shot in front of his eyes. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m just tired.”
“Then go the fuck to sleep,” he orders, panicky. Big Bad Murderous Wolf in Charge of Thousands Cannot Handle Girl Crying. What a headline. “What are you waiting for? Do you need a bedtime story?”
I chew back a smile. Settle against the headrest. “Why? Do you have any?”
“Me?”
“No— Weres. Us, I guess.”
“Sure, but they’re bleak. Humans and Vampyres coming for us if we nip our teachers too hard. The gods of nature toying with their beastly children. Cosmic horror— that kind of shit.”
“Wow. Do children like them?”
“I didn’t. Had nightmares about them for years.”
I nod slowly. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“The many things that are wrong with you.”
Even under the beard, I can see it. A small smile. A soft snort.
“Go to sleep, Serena.” This time, his tone is a gentle push that has me instantly yawning. It’s an Alpha thing, Misery said. They’re great at making their suggestions sound like the best option for everyone involved.
So I close my eyes and let the time and the road flow by. Until I remember something. “Koen?” I’m almost fully asleep, my lids too heavy to open.
“Yeah?”
“I think you owe me an apology.”
“For what?”
“The way you stared at my tits.”
Silence. Then, instead of the I’m sorry or Go to fucking sleep I expect, he says, “I think you owe me an apology.”
“For what?”
“How spectacular your tits are.”
God, he really is an epic asshole. “You might be the worst person I’ve ever met.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” he mutters.
I fall asleep with a small smile on my face. And for a few hours, I don’t think about how little time I have left to live.
CHAPTER 4
He’s toweling himself off after a shower, and the call is on speaker. It gives him hope that he may have misunderstood.
“Are you serious?” He doesn’t wait for Lowe’s reply. As a rule, Lowe doesn’t joke. “Who the fuck gave her the idea?”
“Maddie Garcia asked.”
“For fuck’s sake, the Human governor’s the one who leaked her existence to the press to begin with. She can suck shit out of a straw.”
“We cannot be sure.” A pause. “But yes. Her team likely did. And when the knowledge of the existence of a hybrid wasn’t enough to sway public opinion, she asked Serena to publicly come forward. Serena said yes.”
“And you let her.”
“I have no say in the matter.”
“Do you realize the danger she’ll be in afterward? Being known as my mate won’t protect her in Vampyre or Human territory.”
“Serena believes that the benefits outweigh the costs. And, Koen . . .” A sigh. “However much you hate this, Misery loathes it more.”
He doubts it.
“But,” Lowe continues, “if Serena’s sister is willing to acknowledge that a lot of good can come from this, then you, too, should— ”
“I fucking won’t.”
“That bad?” Lowe asks after a long silence.
No. It’s worse than that.
Two and a half months earlier
Human territory
THE THING I HATE THE MOST— AND THERE’S PLENTY TO HATE here— is the sticky heat of the camera lights. It sends little beads of perspiration down my spine and makes the skin of my back plaster to my (“Light pink!” per Ana’s request) blouse.
“We cranked the AC all the way up,” one of the producers tells me, apologetic, “but Governor Garcia sent over twenty Secret Service agents to protect you. We’re working on a skeleton crew, but the studio’s not built for a crowd this size.”
I smile, grateful. Nod, appreciative. Wonder if he knows that on top of the Human agents, there are approximately fifteen Weres milling around incognito. Half Koen’s, half Lowe’s.
Maddie said that she’d provide security, I pointed out to them two days ago, when they briefed me on their plan. Don’t you trust her?
Lowe’s diplomatic Yes, but completely overlapped with Koen’s curt No. His favorite word, coupled with his favorite tone.
I cocked my head at him, fascinated. Do you trust anyone at all?
With your precious life, killer? How could I?
This is Koen in a nutshell. Mocking and unreadable and maybe even a little cruel. He does, however, get shit done.
“We’re on in five,” the producer reminds me. “Anything else you need?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
A few feet away, the star journalist who’ll conduct the interview is recording a teaser. “. . . the answer that every Human has been seeking for the past month: When was the first known Were-Human hybrid born? How did she manage to stay undetected until her early twenties? What was her life like? Who is she, and above all, why is she coming forward right now? Stick around to learn more . . .”
I zone out. Dissociate. Try not to think about what’s at stake. In a shocking revelation, the business of going on TV to speak on how alien one is can be a bit alienating. Solitary. Misery and Lowe insisted on being here, but the less obvious my link to the Southwest, the better for Ana. Maddie’s presence would only fuel the (correct) rumors that I’m her carefully chosen political pawn. And it’s not as though I could’ve asked Danny, the last guy I dated before realizing I was a Were, to be my plus-one as I out myself as the Hybrid Whose Existence Has Been Leaked to the Press.
Hence, Koen.
The stage lighting fuzzes the crowd behind the cameras, but the tallest outline, the cross-armed, stern one, can only be him. I smile in his direction, fully aware that even if I could see it, there would be no response.
