He pulled me to his side, his arms surrounding me. It just occurred to me why the temperature of his skin didn’t feel as warm as usual. I was running the hybrid fever as well. That was one thing I would be glad to have back once Bean was born: Jared’s warmth had always been so comforting. Now that it was gone, I mourned its loss a bit.

Bex burst through the front door and sprinted up the stairs, stopping just short of us.

Jared tensed. “What? Is it Mom?”

“No. Why?”

“Why else would you barge in and run full speed up the stairs like that?”

Bex shrugged. “I don’t know. I just felt like running. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that at any moment someone we care about could die. Don’t do that to me.”

“Okay,” Bex said, taken aback. “I’m sorry.”

Jared stomped down the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Bex looked at me. “I didn’t mean to.”

I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay, Bex. He forgets you’re just a kid, I think. You’re doing great.”

Bex’s half-wounded, half-appreciative smile offered little persuasion that my pep talk did him any good. He waited for me to dress for the office, and then I allowed him to drive the Beemer to Kennedy Plaza.

“You are so much like your brother,” I told him as he opened my car door.

“I wish he’d see that.”

“He does.”

“I’ll walk you to the door. With them shelling, we can’t be too careful.”

I nodded. Although I felt bad that Bex had to babysit me once again, I was glad he was so close. The sidewalk was an obstacle course, and as usual I didn’t choose the correct shoes. My high heels landed unbalanced on broken cement more than once, and my pregnant body wasn’t in its most graceful state—angel-blood-amped or not. If Bex’s newly thick and bulging arms hadn’t been there to grab me, I would have rolled both of my ankles at the very least.

“Okay. You made it. I’ll wait in your car for Jared.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

“Nina?”

“Yep?”

“Think you could stop calling me that? I’ll be fourteen in a few weeks, and it’s awkward when people hear you. I look older than you.”

“Do not.”

“Do so.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “My apologies, Mr. Ryel.”

“Bex will do.”

I pushed through the glass door, frowning. I wasn’t sure when Bex had grown up, but it was unsettling. My boot heels clicked across the tile floor, muffling when I reached the elevator. The building was quiet, making me even more nervous to meet with Grant.