Page 27 of A Mastery of Monsters

“Pecans. It doesn’t need to be that fancy.” I’m glad she’s recovered so quickly from discussing her brother, and I’m happy to change topics.

She stares at me, aghast. “Yes, it does. We’re pregaming.”

“I don’t think you understand what pregaming means,” I say.

The door to the kitchen opens, and Virgil comes in with a textbook under his arm.

He does a double take when he sees me. I catch the exact moment when he looks at my chest, which is very much on display tonight.

Corey insisted that we “pregame” at McIntosh Castle before the mystery frosh concert, so I got ready at my dorm before coming over.

I’m in a bralette and a pair of my nicer high-waist black jean shorts over sheer tights, with a red checkered button-down tied around my waist in case I get cold.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Are you apologizing for looking?”

He throws his hands up. “Because I know you saw that I looked!”

“Did you want a moment alone?” Corey asks, so innocently that for a second, I think she’s serious.

“Shouldn’t you two be studying or something?” Virgil sets his textbook on the counter. It looks like a collection of short stories and poems. Unsurprisingly, he’s majoring in English, while Corey, to my actual surprise, picked history.

Corey gestures at her cutting board. “We’re pregaming.”

“With… charcuterie?”

“We have wine, too!”

I perk up. “We do?” I would prefer shots, but I doubt that’s going to happen.

Virgil shakes his head and grabs a slice of salami from Corey’s cutting board.

She makes a noise in the back of her throat but doesn’t stop him, just continues to slice.

With her left hand, she stabs some sort of tool into the salami to hold it steady while she slices with her right.

I assume it’s more secure than holding it with three fingers.

To Virgil, I say, “While you’re here, has anyone responded to your report about the monster at Big Sandy Bay?” I still have no idea what direction to go in as far as investigating goes, and part of me hopes the society will magically respond and we’ll get more information.

“No.” Virgil reaches for another piece of meat, and Corey physically moves the cutting board away. “Which is weird. Like, it attacked us with intent. That makes it even more dangerous.”

“Then they’re not wild,” Corey says. She tugs a massive wooden board out from a cupboard, along with some small white bowls. “Meaning they’re working with a Master.”

“That’s what I think,” I say.

Virgil says, “Or they’re a Wild.”

I frown. “She just said they’re not wild.”

“No, a Wild. It’s different. Wilds are monsters who don’t need a partner. They can shift at will and mostly retain control while in monstrous form. Not as much as they would in human form or the way they might with a partner, but enough to retain conscious thought.”

“Wait,” I say. “There are monsters who don’t need partners or this whole process? How?”

Corey says, “Dr. Weiss eventually discovered a boy who seemed to be the same as Patient Zero and learned that it was actually his son. A son he’d had before his mutation activated.

Even though the boy’s mutation was expressed the same way as Patient Zero—the half-human, half-monster form—he maintained his faculties.

But he still didn’t have a great quality of life because of his appearance, so Dr. Weiss gave him the serum. ”

“He experimented on him.”

“No! They worked together. It was a collaboration.” I don’t know how much I believe that, but I let Corey continue.

“His mutation, like standard monsters, was changed so he had fully human and fully monster forms. Eventually, Dr. Weiss discovered more people like Patient Zero, and he helped them and their families. Only descendants from those families produce Wilds.”

“Do you know why? Like, is their mutation different or something?”

Virgil shakes his head. “No. It’s the exact same mutation, it’s just expressed differently in them for some reason.

Like, if they bite someone outside their bloodline, that person becomes a standard monster, not a Wild.

It’s unique to their families. Dr. Weiss offered them the serum too, which they took.

From then on, all their children were born with fully human forms and controllable monster forms. And the Big Sandy Bay monster being a Wild would explain why this might not be on the society’s radar or even why they’re neglecting to respond to us on it. ”

“And there was that guy at the nomination who you mentioned led some Wilds rebellion. Gary?”

“Garrett—Garrett Murphy.”

“Right! You all said it was strange that he showed up. Could it be connected?”

“I mean, the Murphys are considered the most powerful Wild family, which is why they live in and around the Kingston area, close to the Doctorate. And it’s a tenuous relationship at best. If someone was worried about this being the start of another rebellion, I could see why they’d ignore our reports and work it out internally instead. ”

Corey presses her lips into a line.

“What?” I ask her. “You don’t think the Wilds are involved?”

She shrugs. “Could be.”

“You think it’s bullshit.”

She flushes, looking from me to Virgil. “It’s just…

well, it’s highly unlikely. For one, Wilds are rare.

That means they’re easy to monitor and they are strictly monitored at that.

There are only three Wild families left in the entire province .

And there hasn’t been a new Patient Zero–like person discovered in a century, so no new families are replacing the old ones.

The living Wilds all work in society roles as per the truce they brokered because they were getting killed off left and right.

Why start a new rebellion now when they have fewer people and less support?

Garrett probably showed up because he, like all of us, knew that Cyrus wasn’t doing well.

Maybe he wants to broker a better deal for the Murphys.

That makes sense. But sending a Wild to attack August, who wasn’t even part of the society at the time, and potentially steal her brother, who also isn’t, how does that connect to his goals?

It already makes little sense for even a Master-monster pair.

But zero sense for a Wild.” Corey pauses, her face becoming even redder.

“But, like, you guys could also be right….”

I shake my head. “No, we’re not. For all the reasons you said.”

Virgil says, “Like I am always telling you, it’s okay to say I’m wrong. Or talk back to me or whatever. To anyone, actually.” He attempts to steal a piece of cheese.

“Wait until I’m done!” she snaps.

He grins. “See? Just like that.”

Corey sighs and starts chopping up a hunk of brie.

“We’re definitely looking for a Master-monster pair, then?” I ask. Which helps me basically not at all in figuring out where to investigate from here.

Corey nods. “I would say so. But we’re not in a position to be questioning any Masters. Not at our level.” She goes to get some more jam from the fridge.

While her back is turned, Virgil makes another attempt at the cheese. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I say.

The boy actually has the nerve to look betrayed. “We’re supposed to be partners,” he whispers, pressing a hand to his chest.

A snicker bursts from my lips, and now I’m the one feeling betrayed by my own body.

And the ick of his and Corey’s high five moment isn’t even working anymore because their friendship is kind of cute.

They’re just themselves around each other and don’t seem to be afraid of calling each other out.

I never said shit to Rachel, even when she was out of line.

Just another person who I couldn’t disappoint.

And I was right. Because the second I did, she was gone.

Eventually, Corey finishes her charcuterie board and pours our wine. Unfortunately, she insists upon a single glass per person, which is exhausting. It reminds me of Christmas at home, when Mom would let us each have a glass of champagne.

After our “pregame,” we head over to the concert venue, incredibly sober but filled with meat and cheese. Which I guess is a good trade-off.

Though “venue” is generous considering that it’s in the Miller Hall parking lot.

I’ve never paid much attention to the building, but I do have a bunch of classes at Humphrey, which is right next to it.

They’ve done a good job transforming the space.

There’s a huge stage set up as if it belongs there, and we follow the crowd of freshmen trying to find spots to watch.

It’s a mystery who the performer is, but I’ve heard a lot of guesses being thrown around, and as I spot the name on the drum kit, I realize that every one of them is wrong.

Lights flash onstage, and the band comes on.

The music is so loud that I have no idea what Corey is screaming at me with a beaming smile on her face, so I just smile back and get lost in the sounds.

I’m low-key shocked that Virgil, who seems like he might only listen to classical music, actually knows enough songs to sing along, bouncing on his toes and waving his arms around.

I remember what Corey said about him not getting to go to school before. About what it might mean to him to be here now.

I gave up on this dream, but he’s just starting to fulfill his.

The lead singer finishes a song and says, “Now, someone told me you guys have a school song. And I kind of need to hear it.”

A group in the crowd starts shouting “Ooooooooooooh,” and the sound grows louder as more students join in. Everyone’s throwing up their right arm, pointer finger to the sky, swinging it around in a circle like a helicopter prepping for flight.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, and Virgil laughs, though he can’t possibly have heard me. Must have read it on my face.

I hold out my arm to drape it across his shoulders, which isn’t easy given his height. Corey sneaks over to my left so I can put my arm around her. And both of them put their arms around whatever stranger is next to them.

It’s complete chaos because we’re so packed together, but we manage it anyway.

Finally, someone starts it. “Oil thigh…”

With my arms around Virgil and Corey, we kick up our legs and say a bunch of Scottish Gaelic words none of us understand, becoming half-incoherent as we laugh over the ridiculousness of attempting this in a huge crowd.

I want to hate it.

I really want to hate it.