Bride (Ali Hazelwood) by Ali Hazelwood

            “Is that why you went back to the Humans?”

            “It hurt less,” I say instead of yes. “Feeling alone among people who were never supposed to be my own.”

            He sighs and draws up his knees, hands clasped between them. A thought vibrates through me: right here, right now, I don’t feel particularly alone.

            “You’re right, Lowe. I don’t have the hardware to understand what a mate is, and I can’t imagine meeting someone and feeling the sense of kinship you’re talking about. But . . .” I close my eyes and think back fifteen years. A caregiver knocked on my door and introduced me to a dark-haired girl with dimples and black eyes. The breath I draw is stymied. “I was able to install the software. Because Serena gave it to me. And maybe I disappointed her at times, maybe she was angry at me, but that means nothing in the big picture. I understand that you’re willing to face Emery on your own, or to sacrifice everything for your pack. I understand because I feel the same about Serena. And for reasons I cannot fully articulate, because feelings are fucking hard for me, I’d like to come with you. To help you find whoever is trying to hurt Ana. And I think that Serena would be proud of me, because I’ve finally managed to care about something. Even just a little bit.”

            He studies me in the moonlit air for far too long. “That was a badass speech, Misery.”

            “Badass is my middle name.”

            “Your middle name is Lyn.”

            Shit. “Stop reading my file.”

            “Never.” He inhales. Tips back his head. Stares at the same stars I’ve been mapping all night. “If we do it—if I take you with me, it will have to be my way. To make sure that you’re safe.”

            My heart flutters with hope. “What’s your way? Architecturally? With a Corinthian pilaster?”

            I’m not funny. But neither is he.

            “If you come with me, Misery, you’ll have to be marked.”





CHAPTER 14




                             She tastes the way she smells.





I expected a twenty-hour road trip in the hybrid parked in Lowe’s garage, or maybe a shorter plane ride in economy class with cotton discreetly stuffed in my nose to avoid being bombarded with the smell of Human blood.

            I did not expect a Cessna.

            “Honey,” I ask, lowering my sunglasses to the tip of my nose, “are we rich?”

            His glance is only mildly blistering. “We’re just banned from most Human-owned airlines, darling.”

            “Oh, right. That’s why I’ve never flown before. It’s all coming back to me.”

            It’s hard to overstate how little Mick, Cal, and Ken Doll Ludwig like Lowe’s decision to take his Vampyre bride to Emery’s home. In the waning light of dusk, they practically throb with tense concern and unspoken objections.

            Or spoken, maybe. I slept most of the day, and it’s entirely possible that while I was stuffed in the closet for my midday coma, they went through several rounds of screaming matches. I’m glad to have missed them, and just as glad that my time awake has been spent organizing tech stuff with Alex.

            “If someone tries to kill Lowe,” he told me, showing me a USB Rubber Ducky, “it’s your duty to give your life for your Alpha.”

            “I’m not full-body diving between him and a silver bullet.” I held the GSM interceptor against the light to study it. Nifty. “Or whatever it takes for you guys to be killed.”

            “Just a regular bullet. And if you marry into a pack, the pack’s Alpha becomes your Alpha. You marry an Alpha, he most definitely becomes your Alpha.”

            “Uh-huh, sure. Can I see that microcontroller over there?”

            I’m not sad Alex didn’t come see us off at the little executive airport, because the others exude enough existential angst. Tight-lipped, bouncer-posed, frowny. Mick repeatedly shakes his head while holding Sparkles like a burping child—because, yes: Sparkles is, according to someone who’s been scolded multiple times in the past two hours for stuffing Play-Doh into outlets, “a valued family member” who “really loves to watch planes go whooosh.” Juno is the least opposed to the op, which is nice of her. The real happy camper, however, is Ana, and only because of the promises she extracted from Lowe: presents, candy, and, in a required logistical effort that far overestimates his abilities, stealing an L from the Hollywood Sign.