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Something About Harry(37)

By:Dakota Cassidy


Astrid made a face. “Why do they always have to eat lunch with us? They’re simple and crude.”

Mara tilted her head. “They’re just like us, Astrid. Just as smart, and we have a lot of things in common. That’s why they eat lunch with us. Why do you almost always object?”

“Because they’re not as smart as us, and you know it.”

She didn’t have it in her to soothe Astrid’s unwarranted ruffled feathers. Today, of all days, she didn’t want to cajole and coax her friend into eating a stupid sandwich at a table where two other women sat.

It was ridiculous under normal circumstances. In light of this day’s tragedies, it was just intolerable. “Look, Astrid. I don’t know why you have a beef with the other girls. They all like you. But it’s becoming irritating. Now, I’m going to go find Leah and Jiaying and have some lunch. Either come or don’t.”

She didn’t give her the chance to become angry or petty about the other girls. She turned on her heel and fought her way through the atrium to the cafeteria, leaving Astrid undoubtedly huffy.

Her phone buzzed then, making her frown. God, she hoped Harry was okay. Nina had left him in charge of Carl, so she could grab some vampire sleep, with strict orders to treat the zombie like a mischievous child who needed to be kept on track. Nina had decided Harry needed some sensitivity training where Carl was concerned, and she was throwing him into the training pool whether he liked it or not.

In the last text he’d sent, Harry said Carl had turned to her plastic vegetables and a chair leg to feed his never-ending hunger.

But it wasn’t Harry texting her at all, it was Marty. She wanted to see Mara ASAP.

Oh, God. That could mean only one thing. Keegan knew. The wrath of Attila the Older Brother wasn’t far off. It was his responsibility, as alpha pack male, to handle things like this, and somehow he’d found out what a dirty, dirty pool player slash baby-maker she was.

She’d been found out. It was over. Hello, orange and bars on your window.

On stiff feet, Mara flew up the escalator, running the steps rather than utilizing the electric movement.


* * *


“WE have a problem.”

Another alarming thought stole her breath on her way to Marty’s office. Harry’s niece and nephew. Had they seen something? Her heart began pumping again, beads of sweat forming on her brow. “Are Fletcher and Mimi okay?” She swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted was for her egregious error to harm them.

Marty smiled from behind her large walnut desk. Her smile always warmed Mara. It was as much home as her mother’s used to be. With a click of her computer’s mouse, she was out of her chair and moving toward Mara, perfectly dressed in an empire-waist blue silk tunic with gold embroidery around the neckline, denim shrug, matching skinny jeans, and black pumps.

The ease with which she crossed the floor made Mara look down at her roughed-up white tennis shoes so Marty wouldn’t see her envy. Marty could run a marathon in heels, while Mara would trip just putting them on.

She gave Mara one of her infamous hugs and went to sit on the small couch in the corner of her office. “They’re fine. This morning, Wanda and I made pancakes with chocolate chip smiley faces and fresh strawberries, packed their lunches up, braided Mimi’s hair, made Fletcher put on underwear, kissed them on the top of their adorable heads, and dropped them off at school. They’re great kids, if not still in the business of taking advantage of Harry because he’s so uncomfortable and unsure in his new role. But worry not—there was no advantage-taking today. Not with us. They’re at school, safe and sound. Though, wow. Those car-pool ladies? You’d think they weren’t married women the way they looked at us when we told them we were two-thirds of Harry’s ménage.”

It sounded like a morning similar to Hollis’s, one Mara had witnessed time and again until she’d moved out. Marty was an amazing mother and Hollis was well-adjusted, if not precocious, because of it.

Wait. Ménage. Oh, God. “You did not say that to them.”

Marty threw her head back and laughed out loud. “No. But I wanted to. We kept it easy and simple to thwart any questions or create any more lies we’d have to keep track of. But those women.” She cringed. “If death by eyeball daggers were possible, we’d be deader than Nina. Oh, they’re awful, and obvious. Painfully obvious. Harry should count his lucky stars Nina wasn’t there. It would have been far worse than any verbal damage Wanda and I could do. Anyway, that’s not the problem I’m talking about.”

Terror raced in Mara’s veins. Keegan knew. He was going to have to handcuff his own sister and drag her off to lycanthropic prison where she’d eat gruel and pound out license plates between her shifts in the laundry room. “Before you say anything, I know. I’m sorry, Marty. I swear, I never meant for any of this to get so far out of hand. I know this could be an issue for you and Keegan if you keep it from him. I would never want to come between you two. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just . . .” What had she just? Just been looking to find an easy way out of hunting down a real relationship and doing the hard stuff that came with it because she’d been rejected? Just impatient?