Page 157 of My Monster’s Keeper

“We don’t know where,” Frost murmurs.

Hartley makes a sound that draws my attention. “Actually, he’s been working on that. I can show you.”

I follow on Hartley’s heels as he leads us into a den. Damn it, I mean a room.

“I can handle having a gun pointed at my face. I can deal with gang-bangers. Drug addicts, easy. Alcoholics, no problem, domestic violence, I’m your guy. But monsters? I’ve got nothing to protect myself. But I tried, we tried.”

“Well, now that’s just not true,” Stix says and reaches out to tap Hartley’s hand. Dark shadows wrap around him, and then Hartley is wrapped in a shadow. Huge horns rise almost to the ceiling.

“Well, that’s sure…something.” I squint up at the horns and then clear my throat. “How do you walk with those?” I mutter.

“How do you fuck with those?” Frost murmurs back.

“What is it?” Hartley asks when he can finally speak again.

“Part of your bond sharing with Diablos,” Stix says. “I’ll leave it here, learn it.”

“Oh, no, you don’t! I’m coming with you. He’s my…my mate!” Hartley snarls. He reaches in the den’s drawer and pulls out his badge and gun. The horns disappear, but I can still see the faint outline.

I drift away from them when I see something on the wall. It’s a map of the city. There are green pins, pink pins, and black pins. There seems to be a ring of green pins. While the black dominates the space in an erratic arrangement.

“Is what they say about fairy circles true?”

“No, and yes. Fairy circles are a lie to steal children. But rings can be made to be portals if they are strong enough,” Wilder says and stares at the pins. “Green is Fae.”

“Black is Shadow. See the chaotic patterns across the poorer neighbourhoods. Lots of prey that would not leave a trail.” I drag my finger from shitty neighborhood to shitty neighbourhood.

“So what is pink?”

“What is pink, indeed? There were no other doors there.”

There are twelve pink pins.

I study them. They’re at random locations. A factory, a park, a shopping center. The neighbourhoods are across the board, rich, poor, suburbs, industrial.

“What is it?” I whisper.

Down the bottom of the map, I notice another pin. This one is red. Easily could pass for pink in the bad lighting, but it’s not. I kneel and pull the pin off the map, looking at what’s underneath.

It’s the factory where I opened the portals. I stand up and move the pins. It’s the docks, the suburban house, the community center. The river.

I pull the pins out until there are only two left. One is our house. The other is a house I recognise, one that leaves me with a cold chill and a feeling of fear, like I have to face my nightmares, and I’m not ready.

I stand up and pace away from the map. I glance back, staring at it in frustration. Grant is sending me a message. I need to stop thinking about this situation as something that isn’t all connected. Grant did this. He’s the one I need to understand, and I do understand him. Maybe not all the details, but I know how he functions.

Where would he be? He’d be at the house that would cause me the most emotional pain. The house where my foster father tried to beat me to death.

I shake my head. He always did think I was more emotional than I actually am. I smirk as I shake my head and think it over.

He really thinks I’m going to crumble and fall just because I have a couple of bad memories. Grant’s a bigger dick than I thought.

“This place,” I say and stab my finger down on the map. “This house is the one I grew up in.”

Puppy peers at the spot. “He’s hiding in your den?”

“I believe so. It would be just like him. He’s full of symbolism and enjoying the irony of jokes like that.”

“It’s not a joke!” Hartley snaps.