Darkest Powers Bonus Pack 2

Not a lot of those on the market, I bet.”There weren’t, obviously. Dad got lucky, though I suppose that luck had come with a lot of work,finding a place we could easily get out of if the Cains returned. This one wasn’t exactly advertised ascoming with an escape route, but it had a passage connecting the separate garage to the house—backfrom the days when the “garage” had been a barn, and they’d had a dumbwaiter for lowering suppliesinto the cold cellar below.The fact that my dad found this place so fast showed how stressed out he was over the Cains. I’dforgiven him for not moving when I asked, but it was still weighing heavily on his mind. He wasn’tjust worried about them finding us—he was worried about how I was dealing with finding them.Discovering my family, and losing them, all within a few hours.How did I feel about that? Confused, I guess. There was no part of me that wanted to go live withthe Cains. I wasn’t even sure I’d ever want to make contact. I kept thinking about what Nate said abouthunting humans.But Dad said I was looking at it the wrong way. Not that I should be okay with my family killinghumans, but that I had to see if from a werewolf perspective, where restricting themselves to rarehunts of criminals actually meant they had developed a system for dealing with their impulses. Itwasn’t the system I’d choose, but at least they weren’t man-eaters. Kind of depressing to realize thatwas the standard for judging my own kind—did they eat people? Maybe that’s what bothered me themost. In the last few months, I’d come to realize—through the Edison Group and Lauren—just howlow a regard supernaturals had for werewolves. Dad could tell me it was just prejudice, but now I sawa little of where it came from, and what I’d have to deal with for the rest of my life.“Do you want to talk?” Chloe said, looking up at me as we walked.“Already done enough of that.” I had, too, until I’m sure she was sick of hearing about it.“It’s never enough if it’s still bothering you.”It was going to bother me for a while. And no amount of talking would cure that. Just time. I wasn’ttelling her that, though. She’d just feel bad that she couldn’t help. So I said, “Later,” and tugged herover to a tree where I’d left a bag earlier.“Got something for you,” I said.“Oh?”“It’s our three-month anniversary.”Her eyes widened in panic. “Today? I thought . . . I was counting three months from—”“Doesn’t matter.” I paused. “Or I guess it does or we’ll keep getting confused. Can we use today—three months back, I mean?”She smiled. “We can . . . if you don’t mind getting your gift late.”“I don’t care if I get one at all. Just as long as I keep getting anniversaries.”She blushed and lifted on her tiptoes to kiss me. “You will. For as long as you want them.”Which was pretty much the best present she could give me, and I stood there, forgetting what I wasdoing until her gaze traveled down to the bag behind me.“Oh, right,” I said. “The gift.”I opened the bag and pulled out a small box of chocolates. “Happy anniversary.”“Oh. Thanks.” She flashed me a huge smile that would have looked totally real . . . if I didn’t knowher better.“Simon said that’s what I should get you. That or flowers. So you like it?”“Sure.”“Liar.”Her face went bright red as she stammered, “N-no, really. It’s great. It’s—”“Completely and totally impersonal. Like something you buy in bulk for all your teachers.”