Page 37 of Brother's Keeper

Donovan’s sunburned nose scrunched. “Does it seem to you that our lives keep getting weirder? I thought when we moved out things would settle down.”

“I try not to think about it.”

I couldn’t let him leave. Fear for his safety had brought me here, and sending him into the city alone felt too similar to Ripley wandering off from the hotel one day and not coming back. If I didn’t want to make my brother feel more like a prisoner than he already did, I needed to keep him engaged.

“How hungry?” I asked at length.

“Huh?”

“Maggie.”

Donovan’s posture relaxed, and he rotated, still on the steps but less eager to leave. “She drew some pictures this morning,” he said. “Stick figure people with Xs for eyes. One of them looked like me.” He shuddered and cast a wary glance at the closed door separating us from the zombie inside. “I took it as a warning. Been out here ever since.”

I chuckled, already planning to tape those masterpieces to the houseboat’s fridge. A few pieces of art would give the place a real homey vibe.

Our lives were certainly getting stranger, and more dangerous with a hungry zombie staying in our houseand Jax’s minions prowling the streets looking for hands to cut off. But chopping off a hand wasn’t enough to merit Hex membership. The rules clearly stated you had to kill someone to take their place in the gang. At least, that was my understanding since accidentally earning my spot by murdering one of Grimm’s “best men.” I created a gap in the ranks and was subsequently pressed into it in a chain of events so rapid and fateful it made my head spin.

“…Does it have to be people meat?” Donovan’s question pulled me from the mire of memory.

“What?”

The boat swayed underfoot as he climbed the steps and closed the gap to me. “Does she have to eat people meat, or could it be another kind of meat?”

It was the second time that particular combination of words passed through my ears, and it proved more unsettling with repetition. I stabbed my finger at Donovan. “First of all, stop calling it people meat—”

“Human flesh?” he teased.

“Secondly,” I shot him a look of warning, “this is weird to say, but I’m better at killing people than animals, so unless you’ve got a hunting rifle stashed somewhere…”

“You have moreexperiencekilling humans than animals,” Donovan said. “A broken neck is a broken neck, right?”

Images flashed through my mind of hapless woodland creatures staring at me with wide, dead eyes while Maggie sucked the meat off their bones.

“I hate everything about this,” I said.

Donovan was already past me, snickering as he pulled open the houseboat cabin door and called inside. “Hey, Mags, Fitch is taking you out for dinner!” He slammed the door and spun away with newfound pep in his step.

Sliding into the path between him and the dock, I corrected, “We’rebothtaking her.”

“Why me?”

I twitched a finger toward his jeans pocket where I knew his car keys were stashed. He smashed his hand against his thigh too late to prevent the keys from shooting up into the air in a launched toss that delivered them swiftly to me.

“No fair!” Donovan yelped. He sounded so much like his younger self that I grinned.

Maggie must have been waiting because she burst out onto the deck with wild eyes and a toothy smile. She wore short overalls with striped leggings and a babydoll tee, and her hair spilled from a scrunchie in a frizzy fountain of pink.

“There’s my girl.” I offered her my hand. “And you look so pretty, too. Ready for our date?”

She ran to me and clasped my hand, letting me give her a ballroom twirl that started her giggling. A piece of paper peeked from her chest pocket and, once she’d come to a stop, she pulled it out and opened it toward me. It was a crude doodle of a boat with a man standing on the deck, wearing sunglasses, holding a book, and sporting Donovan’s swoop of dark hair. As described, Xs covered his eyes, and his mouth was drawn as an exaggerated frown.

Pocketing Donovan’s keys, I took it from her, holding it to the light of the setting sun and giving a snort. “It does kinda look like you.”

Donovan scowled and shook his head. “You’re the worst.”

Maggie pointed at her mouth, then stomach, and made a low growling noise.

“Yes, ma’am.” I pulled her alongside and strode toward the steps off the deck. “You’re coming in loud and clear. We’ll get you a feast fit for a queen. Or at least something that tastes better than Donnie.”

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