Page 121 of Mate
“What about Fiona, her mother? Did you kill her, too?”
At last, a flicker of hesitation. Koen’s jaw works. After a moment, he says, “I won’t lie to you. It’s possible.”
Irene scoffs. “Have you killed so many Human women that you can no longer recall them?”
“I don’t know. Did you shield Constantine with so many Human women that I lost track?”
“What— what do you mean?” I ask.
He meets my eyes again. Any trace of the anger he showed when discussing Constantine is gone. “When I said that he sent his companions ahead to buy time, Serena, I mean it. If you are certain that your mother was with Constantine that night . . .”
“We are,” Irene says.
“Then yes. I killed her.” Koen is sorry but not repentant. It’s clear in his eyes that he would go back and do it all over again. Then be sad about it all over again.
Irene nods, a bitter, satisfied smile curving her lips.
“Was it you?” I ask, trembling. “Or Jorma? Or Amanda? Or— ”
“It was me, Serena.” His voice is precise. Cutting. “I am the Alpha of the Northwest. Every move, every action, every killing is sanctioned by me. My seconds are an extension of my hand. Whether I tore into your mother’s throat myself or not, I’m still her killer. Do you really need me to explain this? Do you understand your people so little? What did I tell you?”
We are not Human.
My insides twist. “What about me? Why didn’t you killme?”
“You were not standing between me and Constantine, Serena.” For a moment, his expression flickers. Like he’s scanning my features. Cataloging them. Comparing them against an image in his head. His tone loses some of its ice. He’s remembering something, something that was lost until now. “You were hiding.”
“What?”
“In a closet. There was a Human girl with dark hair. She was skeletal and refused to talk.” He searches my features. Sandpapers the years off my face.
“W- what happened to her?”
He swallows. “I brought her to the Human social worker.”
“Was she . . . me?” I whisper.
Hesitation. “When Lowe first told me about hybrids, we immediately got in touch with Human Child Services to track down children of the cult. We were told that they were all accounted for.”
“Then how— ”
“A lie. Most likely, someone examined you, realized that you were a hybrid, and alerted Governor Davenport. And after that . . . you appeared in Paris when you were about six. But the girl I turned in to Human Child Services was at least a couple of years younger than that.”
“Then, if I’m her . . . where was I during those years?”
His jaw shifts side to side. “I don’t know,” he says.
My lips tremble. It’s hard to shape the words. “How— how can you not remember whether you killed my mother? Whether you met me when I was a child?”
“Serena.” He huffs a laugh but seems as shaken as I am. “I killed so many people. I made so many orphans.”
It feels like he’s killing me, now. Like he’s carving my heart out of my chest.
“Did you ever stop to wonder if maybe they were better off among us than with Humans who would never care for them as we could?” Irene asks sharply.
Silence. Did he? He might not remember that, either.
“So you killed both my parents. And then you found me. And then you l- left me alone.”
