Page 99 of The Hive Queen

It sure would have been nice if the people who own Make Out Mansion had bothered to maintain the old road to make things easier.

When we receive an alert from Flint that they made it back to the van safely and the zombie had been laid to rest once more, the relief the news brings is short-lived.

Before I can tuck my phone away, it vibrates with an incoming call, and Chief Lynch’s name appears on the screen.

Dread tightens my gut when I hit answer and step away from the chaos of the scene. “Sharpe speaking.”

“What the hell is going on?” Lynch demands, his tone angry. “The switchboards are lighting up with reports of explosions and gunfire. Tell me you at least have good news.”

I slip my free hand into my pocket, clenching the earbud case in my fist. “We were able to locate the Hive Queen, sir.”

“And?” he barks out.

His sharp voice stabs like daggers into my abused ear, setting off a wave of pain left from the Hive Queen’s attack, and my hand tightens around the earbud case. “The weapons we had didn’t work, and she escaped.”

Cursing fills the line, and the pain in my head worsens. “How many people were hurt in this botched mission?”

“We’re still sorting things out.” I close my eyes. “She was holed up in a mansion in the woods near the high school—”

“The founder’s house?” he cuts in.

“Yes. The ceiling collapsed—”

More cursing fills my ear, and my fist clenches on the earbud case so hard my hand aches, then harder still until it feels like the case disappears altogether, and my fingernails dig into my palm.

When the yelling stops, Chief Lynch says, “I’ll handle the Berdherst family lawyers about the property damage. Just tell me you have a plan for how to neutralize this monster.”

I frown to hear the Berdherst name brought up again. It feels like too much of a coincidence with everything else going on, and I make a note to tell Pen and the others once I’m off the phone.

“I have a plan, sir,” I lie.

“Good. We’ll meet tomorrow to go over it,” he snaps.

The way he says that sounds like he no longer trusts my judgment, and I grit my teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t make me regret promoting you to your current position, Sharpe,” he says. “We have to prove that there are humans who can handle the Others, or we’ll be back to riots in the streets.”

“I won’t disappoint you, sir.” I pull my fist from my pocket and uncurl my stiff fingers to stare down into my empty palm, where only the indent left by the case proves I didn’t imagine its existence. “The JTFPI can handle the Others.”

But not because we’re humans, and what will it mean for my people when that revelation eventually gets out?

reconciliations

- Pen -

My feet dragas I walk out of the back of the house and toward the shed near the woods, and I shiver against the cold. The hazy sun overhead does nothing to dispel the chill from the air.

It had taken until almost sunrise to search Make Out Mansion. We uncovered hundreds of empty liquor bottles, a dozen soiled mattresses and sleeping bags, uncountable condom wrappers and empty boxes, but no bees or eggs.

The night turned out to be a complete bust.

When we made it home at sunrise, I’d crashed for a few hours before my alarm went off, reminding me of my brunch engagement with Lord Marius.

I’m exhausted, and I’d like nothing more than to reschedule, but we need any lead he can provide on the Hive Queen.

He better have coffee, because I didn’t wake up with enough time to have some before heading out. I’d barely had enough time to brush my hair and teeth and was forced to forgo a shower, which means dust and dirt still cling to my skin, making me itchy and irritable.

When this is over, I’m going to sleep for an entire week. Or at least an entire weekend. I don’t know if I can be idle for seven whole days.

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