“Among them, Constantine.”
“You know what? You’re clever for a hybrid.”
I bite back my laughter until my cheeks bleed. Sometimes I miss Misery so much, it hurts every atom of my being.
“The thing about Constantine, he was also cuckoo bananas, but smarter about it. Early on, he figured that if he wanted to take the family cult business to a pro level, he needed more followers. But Weres, even the assholes, were not interested in leaving their cushy packs to sit around a bonfire and discuss their infinite superiority. So he turned to his Human neighbors. But he needed to offer something of value, and what’s more valuable than becoming faster and stronger, living longer, and having a fluffy secondary form?”
“How the hell was he proposing to turn Humans into Weres?”
“Apparently there were bites and mutual blood drinking and a not insignificant amount of sex rituals.”
I groan. This is too stupid, even for me. “What about the fact that they are different species? What about science?”
“You are so cynical. A little science could never stand between a frat boy and his desire for a monthly howl fest.”
“It makes no sense. We both lived among Humans— have you ever met anyone who said they wished they could be a Were?”
“No. But I’ve also never met anyone with a belly-button fetish, and they exist.”
“Do they?”
“Alvinophilia. Look it up. Anyway, fast-forward ten years or so, and Constantine has hundreds of followers. Lots of them are Humans from the rural places neighboring the original settlement, but some are from The City, too. They basically act as servants and free labor, which in turns begets new Were followers. The leadership is fully Were. Constantine’s career as a charismatic leader is up and coming. If dudes do as he says, they’ll be able to bench-press women at the beach with their pinky fingers. If women do the same . . .” She hesitates. My throat tightens, because I know what she’s about to say. “Their children might just be born Weres.”
I close my eyes. Wait for the room to stop spinning. This scenario fits my situation better than a bespoke dress. “Like me.”
“Well, your mom drinking Were blood had nothing to do with you being a hybrid. But . . . yeah.”
“That’s why they want me. It’s not about who I’m related to. They think that I used to be Human, and Constantine turned me into a Were.”
“Yup. And in case you’re wondering, Why did Lowe and Koen not consider the possibility that I was a child of the cult the second they learned about my existence? the answer is, they did. They investigated it, but they were sure that every child was accounted for. Anyway, this is where the shittiness of Koen’s life starts paralleling our own, because the whole showdown that led to him becoming Alpha— ”
“Actually, stop. Don’t tell me.”
“You don’t want to know?”
“No. Yes.” I swallow. “I think I should hear this from Koen.”
“Aw. Are you guys sleeping together yet?”
“What? No!”
“Well, since it’s probably going to happen, would you like a heads- up on the biology?”
“The what?”
“His dick. It— ”
“It’s not going to happen, Misery. It’d be against the law. He took an oath of celibacy.”
“I mean, sure.” She doesn’t sound sure. “But you should know that because you’re his mate, at the base of— ”
“Stop.” At the what of what? “I liked you better when you were a virgin.”
“Yeah, well, Lowe didn’t. So.”
I hang up and massage my eyes till the mental image is scrubbed from my brain, trying to ignore the way my stomach weighs a thousand pounds. Then something occurs to me: this could be my last conversation with Misery. The last time I hear her voice. The last time she hears mine.
I start texting.
Serena: Now that I think about it . . . Our shitty lives? I wouldn’t have them any other way.
Misery: Seriously? No other way? You wouldn’t, idk, skip over the part where the anti-Vampyre coalition mixed up our rooms and pumped you full of carbon monoxide?
Serena: What I’m trying to say is that I am grateful that our misfortunes brought us together.
Misery: Oh my god. Are you dying?
Shit.
Serena: Is that the only reason for me to tell you nice things?
Misery: It’s the only reason for me to listen to them.
I roll my eyes and throw the phone onto the bed. When I walk into the living room, the seconds are still there. I wave at them, listening in as I start the electric kettle.
“. . .all of their known hideouts. No sign of recent activity,” Saul is saying.
“That we know of,” Elle points out. “But our trackers extended their search and still couldn’t find any trace. And the cult didn’t create problems just for the Northwest— they’re despised by everyone in the area. We asked Human neighboring towns if they’d heard anything about them being back, and they were horrified.”
“Did you follow the kid’s trail from Dr. Silas’s home?”
“As much as we could,” Brenna says. “He knew what he was doing. Covered his scent in the ocean.”
“Any match between his and Serena’s DNA?”
“Unrelated. He was a full Were. According to the forensic expert, he spent most of his life in wolf form.”
I exhale. Continue puttering around the kitchen.
“Any Northwest markers in his DNA?”
“None.”
Koen nods slowly. “The good thing is, there can’t be many of them, or we’d have found them by now.”
“Maybe we could lure them out,” I muse, setting mugs, hot water, and tea bags for everyone on the coffee table.
The room goes so silent, the clicking of the porcelain feels louder than a chain saw.
I don’t let it bother me. “They think I’m their miracle Frankenstein baby, and they’re willing to go to some lengths to get me. If I were one of them, I’d think that I need me to recruit more followers.”
I plop down between Koen and the armrest, disregarding the way my thigh brushes against his. Tension swells in the room, heavy with discomfort, but I ignore it and gently press my knee against Koen’s thick quad to get him to stop manspreading.
He doesn’t budge, so I push harder.
He ignores me.
Until Saul tells me, “We’re not sure you were really a cult child, babe. And just to be clear, we would never think any less of you because of the circumstances of your— ”
“I know.” I smile. Reassuring, hopefully. “But the sooner we eliminate the threat, the better for the pack. And since we can’t find the cult, using me as bait might be the most . . .”
All the seconds stand at once, like they all received a simultaneous message from an alien mothership. I watch them do those weird, drawn-out nods in Koen’s direction, then quickly file out of the cabin. When I glance at Koen, I notice that he’s glowering and realize what dismissed them.
“Well.” I glance at the mugs. “That was a lot of work for nothing.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Not according to multiple physicians.”
His expression darkens further.
“Sorry. I was on the phone with Misery. Still in morbid humor mode.” It would make sense, now that there are more seats, for one of us to move away. We don’t, and Koen’s gaze stays on me, the platonic ideal of the concept of a scowl.
“Feel free to stop acting with reckless disregard for your life.”
“Aw. Thank you. Anything else I’m allowed to do, Alpha?”