Page 90 of Mate
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 needmeto 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 wouldneverthink 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 realizewhatdismissed 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.”
