Page 64 of Mate

He nods. Fills his lungs with air. Shakes his head. “Fucking nuisance,” he mutters, and then he’s walking, driving away.

Amanda and I enter Anneke’s car.

MY GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE HAS BEEN EMPTY FOR NEARLY FIVE DECADES . The outside, however, looks surprisingly intact, and no one seems to have initiated a stone-throwing contest toward the living room windows.

“Could I claim this property?” I ask, standing on the balcony. “Does it belong to me?”

“Technically, everything on pack territory belongs to the pack itself,” Anneke’s assistant tells me, a little pedantic. We should introduce her to Jorma , Amanda whispered to me earlier, after she offered us a croissant and pronounced it like we were fine dining in Toulouse.

“Is anyone taking care of this place?”

“Yes. People will stay here occasionally, mostly when they are between residences. They would be welcome to move in, but . . .”

“They know it’s the house where Constantine’s father was born and don’t want to commit?”

She nods.

“Fair enough. There’s probably lots of black mold in those walls.” It would certainly explain the family history.

“It’s also very close to the border,” she points out. “Over there, that line of trees? That’s Human territory. Very well patrolled, and we haven’t had issues in a long time. But . . .”

“Interesting.” I pretend to be learning something new. “Thank you for showing me.”

“No problem. I have to say, I was surprised when Anneke said you’d want to visit your grandfather’s home, but . . . I guess it makes sense.”

I smile. Ten minutes later, I lie in the grass with Amanda, staring up at the cloudy sky. My fingers play with my mother’s necklace. Put it on , Saul suggested before I left. It’ll make the lie that you’re all about reconnecting with your ancestors even more believable.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Amanda says, but my mind is on something else.

Someone else.

“Did I ruin it for him?”

She glances at me. “What? Who?”

“Did I irreparably undermine Koen’s authority?” When I publicly stood up to him, his seconds’ faces covered the not-small gamut from shocked to scandalized.

Amanda laughs. “Oh my God, no. Believe me, we’re all very clear on our respective roles in Koen’s life. No one would dream to assume that because you get away with bitching at the Alpha, so would they .”

“I don’t want to make things complicated for him, now that I’m leaving.”

She is silent for a long beat. When I turn to face her, I find her staring. “Thank you, Serena,” she tells me. Serious, and uncharacteristically heartfelt.

“For what?”

“For not taking him from us.”

“Oh.” I rub a hand down my jeans. “How do you know that he . . . ?”

“I didn’t. Or maybe I did, but not because he told me.

I knew from the start that it would come to this.

From the moment he returned from the Southwest and told me that he’d found you.

” She chuckles, shaking her head. “He was so mad, Serena, for actually liking you so much. And I took Saul aside and said, this is how we lose Koen. He doesn’t know it yet.

And if I told him, he’d ask me to fuck off and call me a .

. . a prickhound, or something. But I knew it.

” Her expression sobers. “I would have forgiven him if he’d left the Northwest. But I don’t think he’d have forgiven himself. So thank you.”

That’s when her phone rings, as planned, and Amanda walks inside the house to take the call, leaving me alone.

As planned.

THIS TIME AROUND THERE ARE NO DRUGS INVOLVED, AND WHEN I find myself bound and gagged in front of Irene, I’m feeling grateful.

Honestly? I set the bar too low. I need to start asking more of my abductors.

And then there is a hideout about eight miles from there , Nele told me yesterday, pointing at a map. It’s inconvenient, because it’s so close to pack territory, the risk of being caught during patrols is high. But Irene never gave it up.

Because of its proximity to her father’s home?

She nodded. There were rumors that the previous huddle leader wanted to tear the house down, and Irene decided to keep an eye on it to make sure it was still standing. We don’t really have a burial place for Constantine, so it’s like a memorial. It inspires us.

I looked at Koen. It would make sense for me to take a trip there, since I just found out about my family. Someone like Irene, who’s spent her entire life upholding Constantine’s legacy, wouldn’t find it weird.

I took Koen’s gritted teeth as assent, and here I am.

Blinking at Irene as she kneels in front of me.

Trying to avoid her touch as she cups my face with her thin, soft hands, and tells me, “You made a mistake, choosing the Northwest over your people. I know you are young and untrained, but you should have known better.”

I thrash around a little, mostly for show, but this is cathartic. I’ve never had a family to disappoint before, and it’s a bit of a power trip. Lots of fun. I don’t understand what Misery has been going on about.

“I’m not giving up on you, not if I can help it. You are Constantine’s only direct descendant, and my only blood relative.”

One of the Favored, a male Were, approaches to whisper something into her ear. Irene nods, looking pleased, and he leaves. I wonder where we are. We drove about five hours south.

“The thing is, Eva.” She lowers her voice. Her smile is wistful and threatening. “I might simply not be able to help it. If you refuse your birthright and don’t allow me to elevate you to the symbol you should be . . . I’m going to have to turn you into a martyr.”

She glances at my arm, where the tracker is implanted.

I pretend not to notice the gleam in her eyes.

MY EYES WIDEN WHEN I SEE THE WEAPONS THEY HAVE AMASSED , and it’s not another example of award-winning acting. I was prepared for the firearms, but not for the explosives.

This has clearly been a while in the making. When night comes, I pretend to fall asleep, and gather snippets from conversations floating around. They were almost ready to strike, and my presence is just an opportunity to expedite the proceedings.

We don’t have a long time, but . . .

. . . that tracker? They can see her location, are probably on their way . . .

. . . ideal situation, but we need to hurry . . .

. . . might not come. He left her alone close to the border, after all, not the act of someone who cares.

. . . nonsense. He had his closest second guarding her. The woman. She screwed up.

. . . is very attached to the girl . . .

Poor Koen is probably grinding his teeth to stubs.

I wonder if he’s called Amanda a testicle yet, just for siding with me about the plan.

I wonder if this is shaving a couple of years off his life.

I wonder if it’ll be better for him, once I’m back in the Southwest. Out of sight, out of mind will never be our thing, but maybe not knowing whether I’m in danger will save the lining of his esophagus?

I should talk to Jorma. Make sure that someone is there to take care of him, even if I can’t.

“Eva,” a voice calls, and my eyes pop open. It’s a Human man, holding something sharp. “I’m sorry. This won’t hurt.”

I’m out before I can wonder what he’s referring to.

MY NEXT MOMENT OF AWARENESS IS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I’m groggy and confused, in the same safe house where I fell asleep. Except, it’s no longer bustling with activity.

It’s just me and two Human guards.

My upper arm, where the tracker was, hurts like an open wound. Dried blood clings to my biceps, pools in the inside of my elbow.

And that’s when I realize that I may have underestimated Irene.