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“Stop!” I snap, the fear flaring into a sudden, hot spark of temper. “She cares about me! She thinks I'm having a collapse, and she’s right. I kind of am!”

Malachi just rolls his eyes and scoffs at me.

“What am I going to do?” I mutter to myself.

He shrugs, wholly unbothered. “Well, you know what I think. We could simply not answer the door when she arrives. Or I could kill her. Both are viable options. One is arguably more permanent, and a lot more fun for me.”

“That isn't helpful, Malachi.”

“Wasn't meant to be.”

The knocking starts minutes later, and I jolt to action. I smooth down my hair with shaky hands and tugging at the hem of my sheep-print pajamas in some last-ditch attempt to make myself look at least semi-presentable. I can do this. I just need to tell her I don’t need an intervention. I need space. I need time.

“Open up!” Piper’s muffled voice shouts through the wood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I scramble out of the kitchen, square my shoulders, and swing the door open, plastering on my best 'I'm doing fine' smile.

“Pipes,” I start. “I don’t want to go to Mom and Dad’s house. I don’t need an⁠—”

She barges past me, ponytail flicking against my face, before stopping in the middle of the living room. “Where is Malachi?”

“He’s... he’s just in the kitchen,” I stammer quickly. Then, the weight of the question hits me, sending an uncomfortable sensation whirling through my gut. “Wait. How do you…”

There’s a blur of dizzying motion as Malachi plants his massive frame directly between me and my big sister.

“Eden,” he growls. “Get back. Now.”

Chapter 23

Malachi

Conniving little cunt.

“No need for growling. I’m just here to check on my big sister.” Piper says, the words wrapped in a nauseatingly sweet, mortal lilt that makes my stomach turn.

“She’s your little sister,” I snap, baring my fangs in warning. “If you’re going to wear the skin, learn the history, you bureaucratic, ass-licking shrimp.”

“Malachi, stop it!” Eden’s voice cracks from behind me, a brittle sound caught between a dozen different terrors.

“Be quiet, mortal,” Piper says. “The adults are speaking.”

Eden freezes, her breath hitching in a way that suggests her heart has stopped. “Wh—what?”

“That isn't your sister,” I bark, not looking away from the vile threat before us.

“Then what is it?” Eden chokes out.

“A Compliance Warden, from the Ninth Division,” I snarl.

“A—a what? Where—where’s Piper then?”

“Wardens get fired out of a cannon,” I spit. “They don't have the luxury of carrying shells across the Veil. They land as vile, naked little shrimps, and they have to requisition the first biological template they find or they’ll flicker out in seconds.”

The Warden smirks as she reaches up to smooth down a stray hair in her ponytail. “Correct. I travel light. I arrived at the coordinates, and your sister was the first thing to park her car outside. Quite the stroke of luck, wouldn't you say?”

“You... you just took her?” Eden whispers. “Because she was there?”