Page 5 of Bride

“The Vampyre woman—she backed out.”

He grunts as he wipes his face.Smart of her, he thinks.

“But they found a replacement,” Cal adds, sliding a manila folder on the counter. “Everything’s in here. They want to know if she has your approval.”

“We proceed as planned.”

Cal huffs out a laugh. Flor frowns. “Don’t you want to look at the—”

“No. This changes nothing.”

They’re all the same, anyway.

Six weeks before the ceremony

She shows up at the start-up where I work on an early Thursday evening, when the sun has already set and the entire bullpen is contemplating grievous bodily harm.

Against me.

I doubt I deserve this level of hatred, but I do understand it. And that’s why I don’t make a fuss when I return to my desk following a brief meeting with my manager and notice the state of mystapler. Honestly, it’s fine. I work from home 90 percent of the time and rarely print anything. Who cares if someone smeared bird shit on it?

“Don’t take it personally, Missy.” Pierce leans against our cubicle divider. His smile is lessconcerned friend, moresmarmy used car salesman; even his blood smells oily.

“I won’t.” Other people’s approval is a powerful drug. Lucky me, I never got the chance to develop an addiction. If there’s something I’m good at, it’s rationalizing my peers’ contempt toward me. I’ve been training like piano prodigies: tirelessly and since early childhood.

“No need to sweat it.”

“I’m not.” Literally. I barely own the necessary glands.

“And don’t listen to Walker. He didn’t say what you think he did.”

Pretty sure it was “nasty bitch” and not “tasty peach” that he yelled across the conference room, but who knows?

“It comes with the territory. You’d be mad, too, if someone did a penetration test against a firewall you’ve been working on for weeks and breached it in what, one hour?”

It was maybe a third of that, even counting the break I took in the middle after realizing how quickly I was blowing through the system. I spent it online shopping for a new hamper, since Serena’s damn cat seems to be asleep in my old one whenever I need to do laundry. I texted her a picture of the receipt, followed byYou and your cat owe me sixteen dollars. Then I sat and waited for a reply, like I always do.

It didn’t come. Nor had I expected it would.

“People will get over it,” he Pierces on. “And hey, you never bring lunch, so no need to worry someone’ll spit in yourTupperware.” He bursts into laughter. I turn to my computer monitor, hoping he’ll peace out. Boy, am I wrong. “And to be honest, it’s kind of on you. If you tried to mingle more... Personally, I get your loner, mysterious, quiet vibe. But some read you as aloof, like you think you’re better than us. If you made an effort to—”

“Misery.”

When I hear my name called—therealone—for a split, exceptionally dumb second, I experience relief that this conversation is going to be over. Then I crane my neck and notice the woman standing on the other side of the divider. Her face is distantly familiar, and so is the black hair, but it’s not until I focus on her heartbeat that I manage to place her. It’s slow like only a Vampyre’s can be, and...

Well.

Shit.

“Vania?”

“You’re hard to find,” she tells me, voice melodic and low. I briefly contemplate slamming my head against the keyboard. Then settle for replying calmly:

“That’s by design.”

“I figured.”

I massage my temple. What a day. What a fucking day. “And yet, here you are.”

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