Page 154 of Mate
ITHINK IT WAS ALL A DREAM.
Not just the fight and the fire and the abduction. Not just Koen, me being a Were, and my time atThe Herald. I think I’m still in college, wondering who the hell is getting kickbacks for putting a chemistry requirement in a finance degree. I think I’m at the Collateral house, wondering whether the new landscaper’s resting asshole face means that he’s secretly an anti-Vampyre activist.
The last six or seven years were all a nightmare. Nothing else could explain that the first thing I hear when I regain consciousness is Misery’s cackle. “Oh, boy. He’s gonna besopissed.”
“Who?” I wheeze out. My palate feels coated in kelp. When a straw is thrust into my mouth, I latch on to it and take about twelve gulps.
“Who what?” Misery asks.
I am, obviously, in a hospital bed. She is, obviously, in the chair next to it. Judging by how my bedside table is covered in electronic devices, an empty blood bag, and even the last installment of the Were mystery series we both swore we’dstop hate-reading, she’s been here for a while. “Who’s gonna be pissed?”
“Koen. You’ve been out for four days, and he literally just agreed to leave this morning.”
“Where did he go?”
“Something somethingpack. I think he’s getting yelled at by . . . Is it possible that Amanda mentioned an Assembly?”
Yup. “Am I . . . Is this the Southwest?”
“What? No. Look out the window. It rains here. There are trees and shit. We’re in the Den.” She leans back in the chair, kicks off her shoes, and stretches her long legs at the foot of my bed. Her pretty, fay-like face curves into a happy smile. “Anyway. I’m sure you’re very confused. And have questions. I’ll be happy to fill you in,” she offers, magnanimously.
When is Koen coming back?seems like a shitty thing to ask my best friend, who’s clearly been watching over my sickbed. So I go with “Did she shoot me?”
“Irene? Yup, but only in the arm. Leg? I don’t know. You were in wolf form.”
“Where is she?”
“Um, so. Koen was, um, mad.”
“Ah.”
“You have been de- aunted, I fear.”
“How tragic,” I say, not giving a single fuck. “The girl?”
“The redhead? The one they put your tracker in? She’s fully recovered. I met her sister, by the way. She has a crush on both youandKoen. It’s kinda cute, honestly.”
“She’s sixteen.”
“I think it’s a platonic crush. But also, when you were sixteen, you wanted to pork Mr. Lumiere in the mudroom.”
“Did I?” I groan. Yeah, I did. “What about everyone else? Anything I should know?”
“Let’s see . . . The cult members are either in custody or with Irene. Which, I am sure, will delight them. The fire was put out. No one from the Northwest died, though there were minor injuries. Can I just say— I’ve had a lot of time to consider recent revelations, and I’m notat allsurprised that you come from a long line of cult leaders. You’ve talked me into so much weird shit through the years, and I always wondered why I kept falling for it.”
“I’m glad we figured it out.” I sit up. It’s a pleasantly easy and painless process. “Not that I’m unhappy about it, but why are you here?”
She pouts. “Because my sister was on the brink of death?”
“Was I, though?”
“Well, critical condition. Interestingly, not because of the bullet. You hit your head hard when you slammed into Irene. Basically, you are responsible for the worst of your own injuries. Way to show agency.” She holds up her hand. With a sigh, I high-five her. “Lowe flew in with me. He left yesterday, when they cleared you. Today I had to drink fridge blood, and it’s like going from gourmet peanut butter to diarrhea.”
“Such vivid imagery— ”
The door opens. “Misery! Look at this frog that I . . .” A gasp. “Serena isawake?” A second later, the frog is leaping away, and a soft, bony weight lands on me with all the grace of a flying squirrel. I return Ana’s boa constrictor hug, trying not to burst into tears at how much she’s grown in the last few months. “Hey, baby.”
“Your hair is so long,” she says. “Can I braid it?”
