Page 9 of Mate

“That, we’re still researching. Unfortunately, I don’t have many memories of the first few years of my life, or of my parents.

All we know is that by the time I was seven, I was living in a Human orphanage in The City.

I suspect that through some routine checkup, one of the doctors realized that I was part Were and alerted Governor Davenport.

” None of what I just said is a lie, which is highly unusual on my part.

“And what did Governor Davenport do?”

“At the time, he knew I was genetically half Were, but I presented as Human. Still, he thought it best to keep an eye on me.”

“And that’s why you grew up in the Vampyre Collateral’s mansion, as Misery Lark’s companion. She was the second- to- last Collateral before the program was discontinued.”

“Correct.”

“And when did you start exhibiting Were traits?”

“About two years ago.”

“By then, you were living freely in Human society, correct? Was Governor Davenport still watching you?”

I nod. “He had me abducted and imprisoned for several weeks.”

“Why?”

“I believe he felt threatened by the Human public’s possible reaction to my existence.

At the time, Maddie Garcia’s gubernatorial campaign was picking up steam, and she was later elected.

It was clear that many voters wanted to see some change in the Were-Human relationships, and Governor Davenport thought my presence might galvanize them even more. ”

“Did he act alone?”

“As far as I know.” Blatant erasure of the Vampyres and Weres he was in cahoots with. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when we meet again, in hell.

“How did you get free?”

Oh, boy. “I shifted to wolf form and escaped.”

“So you are able to shift?”

“I am.” Is it a lie? I’m not even sure anymore. “But it’s a new skill for me.”

“In what ways are you Human?”

“Well, my blood is red. My strength and senses acuity are somewhere in the middle between a Were and a Human’s.”

“I see. Serena, this must all be very painful to relive— thank you for sharing it with us. What about the rumors that there are others?”

“Others?”

“Other hybrids. The Herald ’s article suggested that you might be one of two.”

And this, this , is the real reason I’m here. Everything else— Maddie, peace, reforms, public opinion . . . well, it all matters. But not as much as shoving the spotlight away from Ana.

That’s why I spent the last week leaning across the porcelain sink of Lowe’s bathroom, rehearsing my frown until it was flawless.

When I see it furrow my brow on multiple screens, I decide that all that practice was worth it.

“If there are other hybrids, I’ve never heard of them. But I’d love to meet them.”

The interviewer leans forward a little, ready to dig. I recognize the ambitious gleam in her eyes, the thrill of the chase. I was like her. I used to ask the hard questions. I wanted the truth.

Now all I want is to get this over with.

“The article that outed you,” she says, “alleged the existence of a younger female hybrid, one who lives with the Weres.”

“Oh, right. Yes.” I force a kick of understanding to spill onto my expression. “I wonder if the source was mistaken. What was said about the other Were used to be true of me when I was younger . . . Maybe that’s where the confusion originated?” I shrug cluelessly.

“The article itself did state that the source could not provide evidence on the existence of this second hybrid,” the interviewer agrees. My posture doesn’t change, but I feel my muscles melt into the chair.

I had a single fucking job, and I did it. I’m so ready to go home and throw up in the bathtub, but this lady is still asking questions. “. . .you’ve been staying with the Southwest pack. Do you miss living among the Humans?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, instead of a more truthful Not at all .

The thing is, Humans have been less than outstanding to me of late.

My former colleagues at The Herald wrote an op- ed about feeling betrayed and traumatized by the way I “deliberately misrepresented” myself “in a professional setting, no less.” A waiter from a restaurant I never even set foot inside went on record about the time I ordered a steak and promised a 40 percent tip to make it extra rare.

Pete, an engineer I went on three dates with, sold his story to a tabloid.

I always suspected there was something wrong about her.

She didn’t seem to enjoy what most women do.

His dick, he meant. I can’t believe I’m getting internationally dragged for refusing to screw a guy who told me that I looked just like his mother.

So, yeah. Humans are on my shit list, and I don’t miss them. What I do miss is the period of my life in which the word problem could apply to the printer not working.

“However,” I add, “I’m very grateful for the opportunity to spend time with Weres and learn their customs.”

“And what do you say to those who believe that hybrids such as you are a threat to society and should be eliminated?”

I smile pleasantly, like she didn’t just ask me, What’s it like when people want to watch you croak with their beady little eyes?

Gotta love journalism. “They are free to believe what they like. But centuries of conflict have benefited no one except those in power. I think that the genetic bridge between the two species could be the harbinger of a better future.”

There are a few more softballs, and I spout a few more platitudes, which should get me a seven-figure aphorism book deal any day now. Once the interview ends, Koen waits for me on the side of the stage, looking as pleased as ever.

Which is not at all.

“Are you her, um, Alpha?” the interviewer asks, taking him in. She smells terrified. And aroused.

“Sure,” Koen drawls, right as I snort, “He’s more like my babysitter.”

“And she’s more like a pain in my— ”

“Let’s go,” I nearly scream, tugging at the sleeve of his plaid shirt. He’s the only person in the building not wearing business attire. I’d say he didn’t get the memo, but knowing Koen, he sent it back with I do whatever the fuck I want scribbled all over it. In blood, most likely.

In the elevator it’s me, him, and a gaggle of Human agents standing behind us.

“Did you know?” he asks under his breath, staring ahead at the doors.

My heart plummets. He’s talking about what the geneticist revealed about hybrids having children. I have no clue how, but I’m certain of it. “No.”

His jaw shifts from side to side.

In the network’s lobby, a valet timidly approaches him. “Sir, your car is waiting outside.”

Koen’s eyebrow, the one dissected by scars, arches at an angle that clearly states I’ve never been called Sir before, and it better not happen again . I turn my head to hide a smile, and that’s when I hear it.

“— the gall of coming here and forcing Secret Service agents to guard her. Like we won’t be first in line to get rid of her.” The man in black behind us is mumbling in his buddy’s direction. Low enough not to be overheard— if Koen and I were Humans.

But we aren’t. And the agent is apparently that stupid, because he continues, “Can’t believe her fucking kind.”

I spin, ready to politely request that he repeat it to my face, but Koen wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into the hard heat of his body. From the outside, it probably looks like a playful, affectionate gesture. I take it for what it is: a firm command not to kill .

“Not with an audience this big, at least,” he murmurs lightly against the shell of my ear. Without letting go of me, he uncoils to his full height. “Listen, bud,” he tells the men, at once easygoing and assertive.

This is Koen, being in charge, herding people, straightening spines.

I wonder if the agents know he’s an Alpha.

For me, it’s impossible to miss. Those eyes.

His overpowering scent. How difficult it is to tell him anything approaching no .

“I don’t like her kind, either. Do I think she should have come here? Fuck no.”

The agent blinks. I can almost hear his skin break into goose bumps.

“Women? They belong in the kitchen. I don’t, though.” I can’t see Koen’s face, but the smile in his voice is bloodcurdling . “I get around. Would you like to apologize to the lady, or would you like to learn what that means?”

The man’s scent is pure terror, mixed with a drop of shame. He started shit but doesn’t want to lose face in front of his colleagues. “Is this a threat?”

“If you have to ask, I must be doing something wrong.” Koen shifts me and hooks me at his side. The agent’s friend— older and clearly wiser— takes about five steps back and reaches for his weapon.

So does every other person in the lobby.

Koen ignores them all. “You have two options, shitmuncher. You can apologize to the lady this very instant, or you can wait till later to be fucked up. Your choice. And don’t worry, I won’t be disappointed either way.”

“I’m not afraid of your animals. Send them after me, and see what— ”

“Whoa. Highly offensive. Whatever have I done to make you think that I wouldn’t kill you myself?”

Something in Koen’s tone must alert the man that this is no joke. His throat bobs. His cheek tics. After a few seconds of angry deliberation, he hisses at me, “I’m sorry.”

My shoulders slump in relief.

“Not that hard, was it?” Koen beams. He holds out his hand, grasping the other man’s in a friendly, peacekeeping shake that lasts less than a second. “Careful, buddy. Looks like you hurt yourself.”

The man lifts his arm, puzzled to find thick red blood streaming down his pale flesh, past his wrists and into the sleeve of his suit.

He seems to be unable to grasp what just happened, and I don’t blame him, because neither can I— at least, until I notice the two vertical cuts slicing his wrist. They are claw shaped.

Deep. And they run parallel to the long vein in his inner arm.

In fact, they barely missed it.

“If you make any more comments about this girl over here and I find out,” Koen says, too low for anyone but the three of us to hear, “it’ll be your throat.”

I shiver. The man breathes hard, clutching his wrist to his chest.

“Show me you understood.”

He nods quickly.

“Very good. C’mon, Serena.” Koen’s arm wraps around my shoulder. “I need you to make me a sandwich.”

I let him lead me to the door, feeling as though I’m moving through water. “Koen?”

“Hmm?”

“What just happened?”

“You gave an interview that stuck a bull’s- eye on your back, despite my repeatedly stated and very valid objections.”

“No, I meant— ” Stepping outside is like walking into a wall made of screams. Unsurprisingly, my presence here has attracted a crowd big enough that the network busted out the VIP barriers.

“— abomination— ”

“— never forget what the Weres did to my people— ”

“— liar, you’re a liar— ”

“— blessed with the power of blood and the blood of power, the flesh will be reborn and take new shapes— ”

The last one is my personal favorite. Koen’s, too, judging from how his pupils turn into slits.

But there are half a dozen We love you, Serena, you’re so brave, you’re still one of us signs, and I smile at their owners as Koen pushes me forward and opens the passenger door of the car for me.

He grabs the edge of the roof to protect my head. When I slip onto the seat, he leans against the door and says into my ear, “You did good in there, killer.”

The shrieks, the interview, the man bleeding in the lobby— it all becomes background noise.

I look up at him. Don’t bother hiding my smile. “High praise.”

“Didn’t say you did great ,” he mutters, closing the door after me.

We do have sandwiches for dinner, but Koen’s the one who ends up making them, with a little help from Ana.