Too Many Beds

Lockwood pulled the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, his eyes widening in horror. The client had only said there was a hospital bed that was a source. She had neglected to mention that every bed was a source.

“Lockwood, stop gawking and do something!” Lucy swirled her rapier feverishly, a flush of exertion spreading across her cheeks and down her neck as she worked to keep the throng of visitors at bay.

But what were they even supposed to do against nearly a dozen of them?

“I’m afraid we may have miscalculated, giving George the night off.”

“ We??”

Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You

Lucy gnashed her toast with more vitriol than it deserved, staring off into space and replaying the events of the night over and over. It made no sense. She was more than competent - she was objectively the strongest Listener in decades. She was . . . pleasant-ish. At least, she didn’t start fights. And so what if she finished them? So what was his problem with her, and only her?

“Lucy, we need to talk.”

“No! We d-!”

Lockwood, his expression stormy, leaned in close, and her retort died in her throat. He looked wrecked, his gaze electric. Softly, he tried again.

“Please?”

Divorce of Convenience

Winkman sneered at him. “Your little Listener made the right choice, coming to my side. Shame you weren’t half so clever. Shame you got caught. ”

Lockwood watched as, with a jerk of his head and a sharp look, he had Lucy scurrying to do his bidding. She was as beautiful as ever, even while kneeling beside him, tightening his bonds and glaring daggers at him.

“I told you to stay away, Lockwood. We’re done.”

“But when has that ever stopped me?” he said, trying for a rakish grin. Then, in the barest whisper, “Is he buying it?”

“We’ll find out.”

True Hate’s Kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)

Barnes was coming over with a face that never spelled anything good. Even worse, George was with him, a stack of old books in his arms and a too-tight grin.

“We’ve found a possible fix,” George said. “You won’t like it.”

She scowled. “No. Whatever it is, no.”

Lucy’s gaze darted over to the boy on the stretcher, trapped in his own mind after a run-in with La Belle Dame. It was hard to remember how much she hated him when he was like that. Without all his peacocking and swagger.

“But you heard him say it too.”

Her name.

Dating Your Enemy’s Sibling

Lucy leaned over to George and whispered, “Who’s that talking with Jessica?”

He followed her gaze across the room to their rival school’s team captain. She was surrounded by people congratulating her on thoroughly (and unfairly) trouncing the competition (George and Lucy), but it was clear who she meant. He was exactly her type. George sighed.

“That’s her brother. Don’t.”

“You don’t say . . .”

George watched the wheels spinning and rolled his eyes. “Or do. Nothing I say is going to make any difference.”

Lucy nodded, not listening, and strode up to the boy, her plan written all over her face.

Too Hot to Cuddle

“I want to say I can’t believe you would even joke about that, but-”

“But you absolutely can.” She could hear the grin stretching across his face, even in the near darkness of his room with the curtains drawn. “So should I go to the basement and grab one, or . . .”

He laughed, and she knew she’d never grow tired of that sound. Not in a century.

“No, I think we’ll just have to sleep without touching for once.”

“But a source or two would make the room so cool and comfortable! And then we could spoon properly.”

“Next time, maybe.”