Page 32 of Bride

“—is Jolene,” she continues, undeterred. “Where is Serena?”

“She... I’m trying to find her.”

“Maybe my brother can help you? He’s real good at helping people.”

I swallow. I just can’t with children. “Maybe.”

She studies me for several seconds. “Are you like Lowe?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but no.”

“He doesn’t sleep, either.”

“I do sleep. Just during the day.”

“Ah. Lowe doesn’t sleep. At all.”

“Never? Is it a Were thing? An Alpha thing?”

She shakes her head. “He has pneumonia.”

Seriously? When did he get it? He seemed healthy to me. Maybe for Weres, pneumonia is not a big— “Wait!” I call when I see Ana heading for the window. “How about you go through the door?”

She doesn’t even stop to say no.

“It would be more fun. You could stop by Lowe’s room on your way,” I offer. Because if this child dies, it’s onme. “Say hi. Hang out.”

“He’s not here. He’s gone to deal with the lollipops.”

I trail after her. “With the lollipops.”

“Yes.”

“There’s no way he is dealing with— Do you mean the Loyals?”

“Yes. The lollipops.” She’s already climbing upward, and spider monkey doesn’t even begin to describe how agile she is. Butstill.

“Don’t. Come back! I... forbid you from continuing.”

She keeps scaling. “You’re a Vampyre. I don’t think you can tell me what to do.” She sounds more matter-of-fact than bratty, and all I can think of replying is:

“Shit.”

I follow her progress, terrified, wondering if this is motherhood: anxiously picturing your child with her skull cracked open. But Ana knows exactly what she’s doing, and when she has hoisted herself on top of the roof and disappeared from my view, I’m left alone with two separate pieces of knowledge:

I’m befuddlingly invested in the survival of this tiny pest of a Were.

And Lowe, my husband, myroomie, is gone for the night.

I slip inside the bathroom, find one of my hairpins, and do what I have to do.

CHAPTER 7

The scent is growing into more than just a problem. It invades. It swirls. It travels. It sticks to his nose. It concentrates, sometimes.

They rarely touch. When they did, her wrist accidentally brushed against the front of his shirt, and he found himself tearing off the piece of fabric where her smell was most intense. He slipped it in his pocket, and now carries it everywhere.

Even as he leaves to avoid her.

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