Bride (Ali Hazelwood) by Ali Hazelwood

            “Wow. Serena and I watched that at fifteen and slept with the lights on for months.”

            “Ana watched it at six and will need expensive therapy well into her forties.”

            I wince. “I’m sorry. For Ana, mostly, but also for you. People usually ease into parenthood. We’re not born knowing how to change diapers.”

            “Ana’s potty-trained. Not by me, obviously—I’d have somehow managed to teach her to piss out of her nose.” He runs a hand over his short hair and then rubs his neck. “I was unprepared for her. Still am. And she’s so fucking forgiving.”

            I rest my temple on my knees, studying the way he stares into the distance, wondering how many nights he’s comes up here in the witching hour. To make decisions for thousands. To beat himself up for not being perfect. Despite how competent, self-denying, and assured he appears to be, Lowe might not like himself very much.

            “You used to live in Europe? Where?”

            He seems surprised by my question. “Zurich.”

            “Studying?”

            His shoulders heave with a sigh. “At first. Then working.”

            “Architecture, right? I don’t fully get it. Buildings are kind of boring. I’m grateful they don’t fall on top of my head, though.”

            “I don’t get how one can type stuff into a machine all day and not be terrified of a robot uprising. I’m grateful for Mario Kart, though.”

            “Fair enough.” I smile at his tone, because it’s the poutiest I’ve ever heard. I must have found his touchy spot. “I do like the style of this home,” I volunteer magnanimously.

            “It’s called biomorphic.”

            “How do you know? You learned it in school?”

            “That, and I designed it as a present for my mother.”

            “Oh.” Wow. I guess he’s not just an architect—he’s a good architect. “When you studied, did you do the Human thing?” Their school system is often the only option, simply because there’s more of them, and they invest in education infrastructure. In Vampyre society, and I assume among Weres, too, formal degrees are not worth the paper they’re printed on. The skills that come with them, however, are priceless. If we want to acquire them, we create fake IDs and use them to enroll at Human universities. Vampyres tend to take online classes (because of the fangs, and the whole third-degree burns in the sunlight thing). Weres are undetectable to Humans’ naked eye, and could come and go from their society more easily, but Humans have installed technology that singles out faster-than-normal heartbeats and higher body temperatures in plenty of places. Honestly, I’m just lucky they never expected Vampyres would go to the trouble of filing their own fangs and never developed the same degree of paranoia about us.

            “Zurich was different, actually.”

            “Different?”

            “Weres and Humans were attending openly. A few Vampyres, too. All living in the city.”

            “Wow.” I know there are places like that around the world, where the local history between the species is not so fraught, and living side by side, if not together, is considered normal. It’s still hard to imagine, though. “Did you have a Vampyre girlfriend?” I point at my ring finger. “Once you go Vamp, you can never go back, huh?”

            He gives me a long-suffering look. “You’ll be astonished to hear the Vampyres didn’t hang out with us.”

            “How snobby.” I fold my hand back in my lap, but start playing with my wedding band. “Why all the way to Zurich? Were you on the run from Roscoe?”

            “On the run?” His cheeks stretch into an amused grin. “Roscoe was never a threat. Not to me.”

            “That’s brave of you. Or narcissistic.”

            “Both, maybe,” he acknowledges. Then quickly turns serious. “It’s hard to explain dominance to someone who doesn’t have the hardware to understand it.”

            “Lowe, was that a computer metaphor?” I get another of those don’t-sass-me looks, and laugh. “Come on. At least try to explain it.”