Page 9 of Echo (A Monster’s Prey #2)

I woke up to find Mark draped over me. One hand held my wrist in a bruising grip to make sure I didn’t escape. The sun wasn’t up yet, but I needed out of his grasp.

I gently twisted my arm and scootched out from under him. His touch made me want to gag. He woke up with a loud breath and a menacing, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“The animals need to be tended to.” Which wasn’t a lie, but more importantly, I wanted to be away from him.

“You have to earn your freedom.”

Yeah, I knew the drill. Nothing got done until he got off. I let my mind float away for the three minutes it took or so, and didn’t really let my mind wake up, until I was in the bathroom washing my face.

I should have fought, but sometimes I had to pick my battles. All that battle gave me was a slap to my dignity and a loss on my roster. I was suddenly glad I couldn’t see the scars from the stitches I’d gotten on my back, when he shoved me into that glass coffee table.

Because I’d called him a liar to his face and refused to have sex with him.

I wasn’t sure which part got under his skin more. The fact I saw through his carefully orchestrated show or that I said no pussy.

Maybe both together was too much for his fragile ego to bear.

I needed to tread carefully. He had connections and power. He could kill me here and he’d been long gone before someone showed up looking for honey. Or he would actually have me institutionalized. I preferred to get out of this without either of those things happening.

Honey.

Rinah farm was most known for its honey. I’d found some equipment in the barn, but I hadn’t seen any sign of bees.

Yeah, that would keep me far away from him today.

Goal one, find the bees.

Goal two, find some way to get Mark to leave of his own volition.

I cleaned up, got dressed, then fed the animals and myself before trekking into the woods behind the garden, with my trusty sidekick at my heel. Figuring that was the best place to keep the bees so they could pollinate the flowers and fruits.

While I searched, I let my mind wander.

How did I get Mark to let me go? I called him out on his bullshit. I called him a liar. I refused to cook. I didn’t really contribute to the sex. My dog hurt him. What did I have to do to make him release his grip on me?

I wasn’t even in his social bracket for money or looks. I liked to think I was pretty, but lots of big titty bitties would love to swallow his bullshit and anything else he might offer, in return for the life he could give.

Why did he latch onto someone who saw right through him when he seemed to hate it?

Hell, when we met at the bar I worked at the time, I’d called him a liar to his face, when he tried to sell me shit he’d already sold to three other women throughout the night. He’d laughed and given me his number and a two hundred dollar tip.

Why would he ask me out when he already knew he couldn’t fool me?

Then again, I guess he did.

He was good natured and patient until he moved in with me, after a year of dating. That’s when his demons really showed themselves. Didn’t take even a month after that. Then I wasn’t so amusing anymore.

I walked in a giant circle around the property for what felt like hours, when I finally came across an area where the ground was salted so nothing would grow.

A large circle with a fire pit directly in the center.

With another shield knot welded into the side of the giant pit.

I toed the salt and found it went several inches down, as if someone was building an artificial beach without sand.

The circle was ringed with those black rocks Pearl loved so much.

Maybe my family really was mentally ill.

I went up to the fire pit and found a burned blanket inside.

I frowned at the knitting. Shield knots lined the fabric, which wasn’t too weird.

Grandma Ruby said it was common practice in the family to keep any impure spirits from bothering the children.

It swaddled them in protection, so any monsters under the bed couldn’t disturb their sleep.

But the remnants showed that a M with the rest of the name burned off and Valentine was under it. I pressed my lips together.

Valentine was my father’s name.

Why the fuck was my childhood blanket, that Grandma had clearly made for me, all the way out here? And why did someone try to burn it?

While the blanket was singed, it wasn’t nearly as disintegrated as I would think yarn would be in a fire.

Yeah. Pearl was a fucking nut job. Unless her son did this. But why would either of them burn a blanket I hadn’t even seen in almost two decades.

If she felt the need to burn my things, why would she give me a house?

I would probably never get any answers to the list of questions that grew with each passing thought. It would be best to toss this far into the back of my mind and pretend it never happened.

My grandma’s voice came to mind. Whether it makes sense to us or not, people do everything for a reason.

Pearl was probably insane.

Mark had mentioned my grandmother the night before. My grandmother ran off a cliff after escaping the institution she’d been at. On paper, it looked like she killed herself, but she’d been running from monsters in her mind for two years before that. To her, what happened that night made sense.

To Pearl, this was probably prudent decision making.

What was she trying to accomplish?

I huffed and put the blanket over my arm. Grandma Ruby made it for me. Even if it resembled an overcooked pastry.

Ranger snarled and barked at the trees. My eyes came up fast enough to catch a large shadow, darting behind a tree.

“If you’re going to stalk me, the least you could do is get my ex out of my house,” I mumbled to myself and rolled my eyes. Then spoke up, “I have pepper spray, my dude. Bother someone else.”

A dog barked in the treeline, and it hit me. The sound connected the dots I’d been missing. It was the dog that came into my house the night before.

It had that same weird echo to it that turned my blood cold. Ranger picked up his barking, and I slowly backed up.

Don’t run, but don’t turn your back on them either, my dad’s voice filled my mind. I slowly stepped backward to create space. How did the dog get out of my house?

Ranger followed me, along with the heated gaze I was becoming intimately familiar with. There was a sense that the person was stalking me, like a fox would a rabbit.

Stay calm. Don’t show them any fear.

I kept a calm, steady pace as my heart beat loudly in my ears. Between that and my dog, I couldn’t hear any footsteps, no matter how hard I tried. I clenched my hands at my sides so whoever it was wouldn’t see them shaking.

The vague shape of a human kept weaving through the trees, but they never stayed visible long enough for me to make out any features. They were strange, as if an artist blurred the outline of their drawing. I’d seen something like this high on shrooms before.

That could actually explain everything. Maybe I’d stepped on something I shouldn’t have and spores had gotten in the air.

As much as I wanted to commit to that simple explanation, Ranger was still acting like I was under active attack.

Wait.

If spores affected me, they would affect him too. Maybe I wasn’t the only one tripping balls.

“Madison,” Mary Ellen yelled in the distance behind me. The way it carried, echoed, said she was a good distance away.

I whirled around to find the voice, only to find a tree I was about to run smack into. The hallucination unknowingly saved me from a bonk to the back of my head and probably an ugly tumble.

Don’t run. Never run.

“Madison.” This time the whisper came from where the figure was falling behind.

I’d never met Pearl before, but I’d heard her voice over the phone a thousand times. She’d call my grandma at least once a day, and they’d bicker about anything and everything. Anytime I mentioned that it seemed like they hated each other, Grandma would laugh and say Pearl was born disagreeable.

If Pearl stood before me, I’d never know it. But I recognized that voice. What I didn’t recognize was the disgusted contempt filling a single word.

My feet halted in their tracks as I tried to make sense of the situation. My stomach flipped and nausea threatened to make me evacuate my breakfast from the premises of my stomach.

Now, Madison. Don’t let a dead voice spook you. You were just thinking about her, before you went on this not so fun adventure.

Yet, every muscle in my legs tensed to take off, but the discipline that my daddy drilled into me, was repeating in my mind.

If you run, you’re food.

Where would I even run, too? Into the house where I’d have to face off a hallucination and Mark. Where I would prove everything he ever said about me being insane.

“Run, Pretty Rabbit.” This time the voice was a dark growl whispering against my ear. Hot breath blew against my skin and sent shivers rolling over my body.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, bitch?” What was that old saying? Talking to yourself doesn’t mean you're crazy. It’s when things start talking back that was the issue.

The voice hummed or growled as if to agree with me.

“No.” I wasn’t sure if my answer was more for the voice or to remind myself not to give into the adrenaline bursting through my veins.

The voice chuckled as if I were the most endearing thing on the planet. “You will.”

Pressure I hadn’t realized covered the area released as I turned on my heel to find nothing. Tears pricked my eyes as I realized the house was behind a thin line of trees. The loud white color was easily recognizable in the endless green. Maybe that was why Pearl painted everything that shade.

In my lost wandering, I’d made my way back to the house. Call me Lewis and the dog Clark.

I walked over and sat on the porch, letting my eyes rove over every inch of the trees in front of me. Ranger stopped barking, but he held a defensive stance. His entire body trembled with fear even as he held his post.