Page 155 of My Monster’s Keeper

“No, he’s not. They have him. The best hope we have is to find Hartley,” Becks says softly. “I don’t know if either of them are okay or not.”

“I have a list of safe houses,” Frost says. “But I think we should check his personal home first.”

“Let’s go check, then,” Stix says and scoops up Becky’s hand and tugs her towards the road.

Becky pulls to a stop. It’s like all the sad and anger suddenly hits her, and she starts to shake. Frost pulls her into a tight hug and rocks her. For long minutes, she just clings to him while the icy wind tears the scents of that awful place away.

I march over to her and snuggle up against her back. “I will kill all of them, my mate. Everyone that hurt you. All dead.”

She shudders but reaches one arm back to grip my waist.

Stix and Wilder stay at the edges of our group, watching around us with hard, furious eyes.

“You know the way?” Wilder whispers to Stix.

“Yeah, I can get us there.”

“Okay, do it. Get us out of here. There are too many eyes. Far too many eyes.”

Frost hears him and lifts his head. His face and hair are whiter than they’ve ever been. He looks up, and lightning strikes, over and over. Thunder booms, deafening us, but the spray of fire and sparks is incredible.

“This place is mine,” Becky whispers in protest. “They can’t have the doors to the other worlds.”

“We got it,” a voice says from the dark.

I turn and spot the five Sirens and the Healer. She is gagged and trussed, but I can’t feel any distress from her. The urge to rush over and slice through the softness of their throats and bathe in their blood is overwhelming. One thing stops me—their scents weren’t in there.

“Go. Do what you need to do. Nothing leaves, nothing comes in. We’ll hold this place.”

“Why?” Becky asks. She’s full of suspicion now.

“Because we have people we don’t want coming through. And people we don’t want going back and tattling. Yet.”

“Can we trust them?” Becky asks me.

“No, but you can trust her. She’s not really a prisoner, she’s pretending. The Healer is tricky,” Stix murmurs.

I dip my head in a slow nod, agreeing with Stix. The Healer is not one who will tolerate a broken bargain. The consequences would be catastrophic.

“Fine. But do not allow anyone from this world out. I have a whole heap that needs to have a conversation with the sharp side of my knife,” Frost barks.

The auburn-haired Sirens nod and move into the factory, vanishing from view. They are like snakes. Dangerous and threatening. But I feel better with them than most others I have met.

In all this time, the thunder and lightning haven’t once stopped. Frost is really enraged.

Stix grips the shadows and yanks them around us, wrapping us tight. And then we’re pulled to other shadows that are cleaner, without the stench of my mates’ agony.

I look up at the trees, the perfectly quiet suburban street, with none of the chaos and none of the disorder.

“What house is it?” Wilder growls.

“It’s the one with the pink hearts on the letter box,” Frost says through gritted teeth.

Lightning strikes the street, turning the world white.

We all take a moment to let that sink in, and then we cross the road quickly and slink up to the front door.

A quick knock reveals a shattered Hartley. I’ve seen more lively corpses. His eyes are bloodshot, and he wipes his nose on a knitted jumper and then throws himself at Stix, hugging him tight.