Bride (Ali Hazelwood) by Ali Hazelwood

            “It’s about Ana, right? You think Serena was looking for Ana.”

            More staring. Mistral, with a hint of assessment.

            “Listen, it’s obvious that you want to figure out why a Human knew of your sister’s existence. And I’m not asking you to trust me—”

            “I think I will, though,” he finally says, decisive. And then starts spreading peanut butter on the bread, like he’s settled an important matter and now needs a snack.

            “You will . . . ?”

            “Trust you.”

            “I don’t get it.”

            “No.” His expression is not tender, but approaching. Kind. Amused, for sure. “I reckon you wouldn’t.”

            “I was just proposing we trade information.”

            “And you could do many horrible things with the information I’m about to give you. But you’ve been in Ana’s shoes before. And you’re hurt because you ran to help her when the sun hadn’t set yet.” Lowe points at the reddened skin of my right arm and hands me an ice pack.

            He must have retrieved it earlier from the freezer. And it feels really, really good.

            “Misguided as you were, I doubt you’d throw Ana under the bus.”

            “No more misguided than using her as bait. Nice parenting there, by the way,” I add, a bit archly.

            “There were eight Weres monitoring the situation,” he says, unoffended. “And a tracker in her suit. Max had no vehicle at his disposal, so we knew he was going to attempt to hand off Ana to someone else. She was never in any real danger.”

            “Sure.” I shrug, pretending I don’t care. “And children are soft and adaptable and make for perfect pawns in the power plays of great leaders, right?”

            “I can only protect Ana if I know where the threats against her are coming from.” He leans forward across the table. The scent of his blood is like a wave lapping at my skin. “I’m not like your father, Misery.”

            My throat is suddenly dry. “Well, you’re wrong. I would throw Ana under the bus, if I had to choose between her and Serena.” I have priorities, very little heart, and find no pleasure in being deceitful when others are being honest with me. Ana might be growing on me, but she wasn’t the one who slept next to me for a whole week when I was fourteen and gave myself seizures by trying to file off my fangs for the first time. With a cheese grater.

            “Yeah?” He doesn’t sound like he believes me. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

            “I don’t think it will,” I agree. “And it makes sense for us to collaborate. As Ana’s brother and Serena’s sister.”

            His eyes meet mine, serious and unsettling. “Not as husband and wife?”

            Because we’re that, too, even if it’s disturbingly easy to forget. I glance away, landing on a dollop of peanut butter on the rim of the jar. It’s the variety without the crunchy bits, which . . . yeah.

            I set down my ice pack and lean back in my chair, as far away from it as possible.

            “She’ll be seven next month, by the way,” he tells me. “She’s just better at lying with words than with her fingers.”

            “Are her parents . . . Where are they?”

            There is an infinitesimal stutter in his movement, and he sets down the jelly jar. “Mother’s dead. Father’s somewhere in Human territory.”

            “There are Weres in Human territory?”

            Lowe’s jaw tenses. “This, Misery, is where I’m taking a leap of faith.”

            My heart goes wooden. A memory flashes: my first day alone among the Humans, after Father and Vania and the rest of the Vampyre convoy had left. The terrifying smell of their blood, their odd sounds, the weird beings crowding around me. Knowing I was the only member of my species for miles and miles. I don’t want it for her. I don’t want it for anyone. “Is Ana Human? A Collateral?”