Page 5 of A Monstrous World: The Complete Series

Chapter Five

Emerson

M y nerves are getting the better of me, again . My eyes fly to the clock. I need to be at The Den in an hour for my practical.

What an unassuming word for sex with a stranger. It will legitimately be a practice run for sleeping with clients.

God, I'm so out of my depth, it isn't even funny.

Nadia frowns at me. “Stop pacing. Damn, girl, you're stressing me out.” She snorts a laugh. “I brought three outfits for you to choose from.”

My arm wraps tighter around the top of my towel as I approach the bed.

“I think the black bandage dress is going to look the best on you since you're a bit taller than I am,” she says, carefully laying out the dresses in a line. “You're on your own for undergarments.”

I snort a laugh. I really don't know what I'd do without her and Meena right about now.

My mind drifts to Ember asleep down the hall. She's a chattering bundle of energy, but that means she crashes hard at the end of the day. I hate leaving her, but one major perk of the job is that I'll be working while she sleeps.

My ex didn't bother telling me he was a shifter until after I was knocked-up. I was taking birth control, but I didn't know it wouldn't be effective against wolf super sperm.

I nearly snort at the thought.

Luckily, that's not one of my worries for tonight. Nadia used her magic to whip me up a birth-control potion she swears won't fail me, no matter the monster. Which is good, because I'm barely providing for one kid at this point. Things have been tougher than I like to admit.

“All right,” Nadia says, “get dressed. I'll be in the living room.” She hops up and walks out, closing the door behind her.

My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling. Nadia explained what to expect while she did my hair and makeup, but knowing what's coming doesn't lessen my anxiety.

Blowing out a breath, I shake my head. Is this an ideal situation? No. Is it one I'd pick for myself if I had any other options? Probably not. But that doesn't change the reality of things.

I can stand around feeling sorry for myself and resenting the hell out of Alix, or I can work on fixing my problems.

I get myself together.

I can’t be late.

My heels click against the pavement as I head down the sidewalk. The Den isn't far from the house, but after the other night, and add in the fact it's dark... Everything feels more nefarious than it does during the light of day.

The Den is on the edge of downtown, close to the water. Everything makes more sense now that I understand the business has multiple parts. Likely, the location is necessary due to having aquatic monster customers.

My new-hire paperwork very clearly laid out what to expect when selecting each option. A smorgasbord of sex positions, orifices, and extremities. It was surprising to realize I'd be down for most of them under the right circumstances.

Nadia said it will be easier to handle once I get to know my customers, and that sounds reasonable enough.

Most of my anxiety for the not-so-practical, practical exam is coming from not knowing who I'll be paired with.

The hellhound shifter, Dread, pops into my thoughts as I walk.

It wouldn't be terrible if he's my partner.

His broad shoulders and expansive muscles make for a climb-worthy frame. And he isn't half bad to look at.

What the hell, Emerson? Haven't you learned anything from dipping your toes into the shifter pond?

No, apparently, I haven't.

Although, from what I understand, hellhounds are demons, not shifters. Okay, I'm trying to justify my attraction to a demon. It's no wonder my life is a shit show.

The smell hits me first. I let out a little gasp as I stumble along in the sky-high heels Nadia demanded I wear.

“Emmy,” the raspy voice calls.

I don't stop. Hell, no. I'm only twenty or thirty feet from the employee entrance of The Den. They'll have someone in security guarding the door.

“Emerson,” Joe, the enforcer says, grabbing my arm.

My eyes fly to the alleyway I know leads to the side entrance of The Den.

Dammit.

If I had made it down that sidewalk, then security would likely see or hear me, but where we are now, there's basically no chance of anyone coming to my rescue.

“Joe,” I say, offering a smile, “what a pleasure.”

“I'll bet,” Rocco replies. There's a certain comfort in realizing I recognize the guys. They're only two of several enforcers I've become acquainted with, and they aren't the worst of the bunch.

Not by far.

“Nice to see you, Rocco,” I say, giving him the same pasted-on grin.

“You look pretty.” Joe gives me a once-over. “Finally making a real attempt to get the boss his money?”

“Like I have a choice,” I volley back and bite my lip. My anxiety is manifesting as attitude again, and these men won’t put up with that.

“That you don't,” Rocco agrees. He isn't good at even pretending to have compassion.

“When can we expect a payday?” Joe asks. His eyes keep darting over his shoulder. His wolf is clearly on edge. I can tell by the way his eyes glow in the low light.

Hope rises in my chest. Perhaps The Den's security casts a wider net than I thought?

“I haven't even been hired for that yet,” I tell them, trying to push Joe's hand off my arm.

His wolf seems riled by something I can't see, and his claws are digging painfully into the unprotected skin of my upper arm.

I don't think he's doing it purposely, but it still hurts like a bitch.

“And I likely won't be if you make me late.”

“You better figure it out,” Rocco growls. “We need to go. Something feels off here.”

“You could save yourself from all of this and give in to the alpha,” Joe says. He retracts his claws and gently pats my arm in apology.

“Yeah.” I laugh. “I think I'll make sure I get the job.”

Spending my life as part of Alpha Brayden's harem of concubines sounds worse than servicing monsters. That says a lot.

I'm taking my chances that the guys I'll need to bang aren't even more disgusting than Rocco and Joe's alpha, but at least I'll be able to choose the monsters I sleep with. I won't be passed around to Brayden's men as a prize or for punishment.

“You're a snobby little bitch.” Rocco steps up to my side and squeezes my cheek in his strong hand. “Especially for a human.”

Apparently, they don't see humans as a treat like the customers at The Den do.

The claw of Rocco's other hand slices the top of my shoulder as he holds me in place, and I whimper, struggling against his sharp nails.

“We need to go,” Joe says in a shaky tone. He yanks something out of his pocket and hands it over. “Something ain't right here. Stop the bleeding.”

I do as he says, taking the handkerchief that seems mostly clean and covering the small but deep cut.

The entire atmosphere of the street seems to change in the blink of an eye. My human eyes can't pick up things like a supernatural's eyes can, but I still dart my gaze around, trying to find what is sending that terrifying chill down my spine.

One second, Rocco's arm is pinning me to the brick wall while he also appraises the threat, and in the next, his body lands in a crumpled heap against the opposite wall of the corridor.

Joe raises his hands and takes several shaky steps toward my side. “Tell whatever the hell that is,” he says in a low, horrified tone, “that I didn't hurt you. Things will be much worse for you if both of us hobble back to the alpha.”

“If you're both dead, there will be no one to return,” a deep, echoing voice says.

I instantly recognize him. He's one of the owners. His huge black wings, with sharp bony claws at the top, fill my vision as a powerful body lands in a crouch. Dark gray skin tops an extreme number of well-defined muscles. He's a fucking masterpiece of male hotness and he screams safety.

“Thank God,” I whisper like a total loser.

Those black, leathery wings twitch as the monster turns to me. His short dark hair glints in the low light as he quirks an eyebrow.

Okay, so I lost my chill somewhere on the walk to work.

Still, he's super impressive, and I'm really freaking grateful to be getting a save right now.

“Collect that asshole and leave,” the gargoyle hisses. His fangs are kind of terrifying. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine as I imagine how much damage those things could do.

“This doesn't involve you,” Joe growls, but he's clearly outmatched. I'm sure a pack of wolves could take down a gargoyle, but the two of them don't stand a chance.

The gargoyle flexes a burly arm, extending it to me. I immediately sidestep Joe and run into it.

“All employees of The Den are under our protection,” the gargoyle says, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Make sure your alpha understands the risk next time he sends his henchmen into my city.”

Cool air flutters around us as the gargoyle takes flight. I've never flown before, and I very unceremoniously bury my face in his skin and try to climb him. His massive frame makes it nearly impossible until he places his other hand on my rump and pulls me into him.

“T-thank you,” I say in a shaky tone I'm kind of embarrassed of.

“Ryktus,” he says, giving me a nod. We land on a roof several seconds later.

“Emerson,” I reply. I try to stand, willing my legs to stop shaking. Clawed hands land on my forearms, steadying me in place.

“Oh shit,” I whisper. My hand still holds the bloody handkerchief. I attempt to clean off my blood from his chest. “Sorry, I got blood on you.”

“You're still bleeding,” Ryktus growls. “Worry about yourself.” He nods to my shoulder.

My gaze flies to my upper arm. The wound is no longer dripping, but it's not completely closed. I dab the cloth against it and grimace.

“I'm so sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I think I'm about to be late. Could you direct me to the door or tell me how I can get inside?”

“Come along,” he says in an annoyed tone. He grips my uninjured arm and drags me toward a door I hadn't noticed.