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.Like humans, Therians are guided by our emotions.We’re more alike than you think.”I was beginning to see that and more.I was also beginning to see how the Therians were a threat to other races.With larger numbers and morediverse personalities than vampires or goblins—and with distinctly less political power than the Fey—Therians were an uncontrol able element.They rarely attacked humans, so were rarely hunted by the Triads.And we knew next to nothing about them, as I was quickly learning.I also hadn’t forgotten his fairy-tale riddle, and, with gratitude and confidence spil ing al over the room, it almost seemed like the right time to ask.Would he give me the answer? Probably not.Maybe after the Assembly ruled in my favor….An awkward silence had settled on the room.It was my turn to speak, but I had gone off into la-la land.I said the first non-riddle-related thing thatcame to mind.“I’m going to need clothes.”Jenner’s gaze flickered to Wyatt, who stood and opened a dresser drawer.Inside were neatly stacked and folded jeans, tops … Wait.“That’s the stuff I took from my apartment,” I said, thunderstruck.“How’d it get here? I left that bag in the stairwel at the factory.”“Phin found it last night,” Wyatt said.“He went back to see if he could track the gremlins to their new location, but no luck.The bag we tossedbecause it stank to high hel , but the clothes washed up.”“What about the photo and laptop?”He pul ed the next drawer.Acrid air drifted up, and I peeked inside.One item on top of another.The photo was facedown, but I had memorizedthe image the first day I saw it.As I stared, heart swel ing with gratitude, a thought struck me.Something I’d been missing recently without realizing.“Wyatt, do you stil have the ne—”He dangled it in front of me, the silver cross flashing in the room’s lamplight.I hooked the chain around my finger, amazed at my attachment to thesimple trinket.Part of it was Chalice’s love for her dearly departed best friend; part of it was my own fondness for the man I’d known for just a fewdays.It was the only physical object in my life with a sentimental value.“I’l let you dress,” Jenner said, and bowed out of the room.I put on the necklace.My fingers tangled in knotty hair.I knew I’d been sponged down and smel ed pretty clean, but my hair seriously neededwashing.I doubted the Assembly would care about my appearance; I just despised greasy hair.I changed into clean clothes without much thoughtto Wyatt’s presence, choosing the nicest of the pieces that I’d grabbed.Black jeans, white tank top, and button-down short-sleeved blouse.Ibraided my hair into a long rope and secured it with a piece of medical tape, in lieu of an actual rubber band.And once again, I was reduced to thesame blood- and soot-stained sneakers.That just couldn’t be helped.The woman who stared back at me from the dresser mirror was rosy-cheeked and straight-backed and no longer a stranger.She’d stil surpriseme for a while, but I was comfortable in her skin.In my skin.Wyatt shuffled up behind me, and I met his gaze in the mirror.“Nervous?” he asked.“Not real y.Why?”“Because you never used to look at yourself so critical y right before meeting someone for the first time.”“That’s because I never used to care how I looked.I cut my own hair, remember?”His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.“What’s changed?”“What hasn’t?”He slid his hands across my back and up to gently squeeze my shoulders.I leaned into him, against his chest, seeing us side by side for the firsttime.My brown hair and brown eyes to his black hair and black eyes.The light smattering of freckles on my nose to his five-o’clock shadow thatnever went away.Almost matched in height, and now much closer in age.But below the surface of this new body, I was stil an insecure, twenty-two-year-old orphan with anger-management issues and a foul mouth.I’dnever felt as comfortable in Wyatt’s arms as I felt at that moment, but I feared where acceptance of that comfort—screw it, of that craving—mighttake us.We’ll see where the day takes us.It had skated us close to this edge so many times—a thin border between accepting and denying—that Iwanted to scream.Or to laugh at the hilarity of it al.I had a man beside me who admitted to loving me, wanting me, and I’d been given a second(third? fourth?) chance to be with him.And al I could do was stare mutely into a mirror and wonder what the hel was wrong with me.“Penny for your thoughts?” Wyatt asked.I barked laughter.“It’l cost you at least a dol ar.”“Worth it.”“I’m thinking we should go.” I spun in his arms and put my palms on his chest.His hands slid to my waist.We drew together at the same time,mouths finding each other in perfect sync.It was a gentle kiss, without the fervor of lust or need, but I stil felt it in my toes.The touch and taste of him,the smel of him in my nostrils.The soft stroke of his tongue against my lips, and the way my bel y quivered when his fingers pressed into my hips.“For luck,” I said when we parted.“Think we need more luck than that?” he asked, arching one eyebrow suggestively.“I think it’l tide us over.Come on, Truman, we’ve got a date with some shape-shifters.”Michael Jenner’s house turned out to be a two-story condo in a new development ten minutes’ drive outside the city, tucked several miles west ofParkside East.Nearly in the mountains that bordered that side of the val ey.He drove a Cadil ac, which didn’t surprise me in the least, and hecoasted along the winding roads like a practiced race car driver.Fast turns on sharp curves, as though exhilarated by the speed and danger.I was enjoying myself and the view from the front seat, but Wyatt had a death grip on his door.He sat behind Jenner, at an angle from me.Everytime I cast an amused smile his way, he’d glare.As we closed in on the city, the whispering tendrils of the Break sparked brighter, and I realized just how faint it had been at Jenner’s house
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