Page 50 of My Monster’s Keeper

Becky

H artley screams like a little bitch and promptly passes out. None of us tries to catch him. He hits the floor hard and just lays there.

I crouch over and look him over.

“We probably should have tried to save him,” I say belatedly.

Puppy snorts and kicks the corpse of the creature he killed. “I did.”

“He did,” Stix says happily. “He saved him.”

“From the cracked skull,” I reiterate.

“Oh, that. He’ll be fine.”

“Song, don’t sit on his head.” I palm my face and decide eye aversion is the only way to go. “Why does he look like he hasn’t eaten or slept? He looks awful. What do you think happened to him?”

Puppy climbs the wall and ruffles his scales. “Fear demon.”

I jerk my head. “What?”

“Fear demon. I can smell his fear, his terror. His exhaustion. The demon gives psychic images of his worst fears and feeds off the feelings.”

Hartley sits up and splutters before he gags and rolls himself free of the dog. He sees the dead creature in the middle of the room and gets woozy. Visibly woozy.

“That was here the whole time?” His voice is shrill.

“Yes,” Puppy says. “I killed it.”

“Oh, god, where is Diablos?” Hartley moans. He bursts into tears and weakly gets to his knees.

“That’s what I’d like to know. What’s been happening?” I ask, but part of me feels deeply sorry for the cop. He’s not doing well at all. And there’s a little bit of accusation there, too.

Hartley looks up. Tears roll down his cheeks.

“He tried to get you out like five times. The first time, he barely made it back,” he spits.

“The second time, we had to run, the third and fourth, he came back so injured he could barely walk, and the last time he went to rescue you, he didn’t come back.

That was three weeks ago. So don’t you dare sit there and think no one but you has done anything!

” Hartley thunders, his face red and tendon’s straining.

I glance back at Wilder and Frost. No one needs to say that this is a bad thing. We all know it. Diablos fought for us.

I really need to curb my suspicions sometimes. Regret is a heavy coat to wear.

I close my eyes. “Hartley, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Diablos and Hartley are family.”

The guys stiffen, hearing what I’m saying and not saying. If he tried that hard, we will move the Earth to get him back and murder everyone who hurt him.

“We should go and find him then, poppet.”

“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.

Puppy hisses menacingly. “Let's go.”

“No,” Frost says coldly. “We need to plan this. Last time, we underestimated them, and we ended up completely outmaneuvered.”

I hate that he’s right, but they did. Grant played us. He knew our weaknesses. He knew they would try to protect me.

He knew I would fight for them.

I don’t think he knew how strongly I felt about them or that if I had the choice of saving the world and losing them or leaving the world to burn, I’d light the damn fire myself.

I’m not even sure that I knew what I’d do until that minute.

“We need to do something completely unexpected.” I peer around at them. “Luckily, we have the best combination of minds to make exactly that decision.”

***

Puppy leans over the top of me, watching our target building. If anyone else had been hovering over me the way he is, I might be annoyed. But there is something comforting about the giant, aggressive Grim rumbling his displeasure into my spine.

Okay, and it’s arousing. Who wouldn’t be turned on? The heat keeps spiking, but, so far, it’s not returned the way it was in the factory. Did they break me?

No, don’t think about that.

Stix lies on the building roof beside me and slithers to the edge. Its fucking creepy and also…again, distractingly arousing.

A hand creeps up the back of my leg, settling on my inner thigh, causing my breath to hitch.

“I’m a fan of stakeouts,” Frost whispers.

I hiss as my skin gets cold and then heats.

“We’re supposed to be watching.”

“I am. I’m capable of multitasking,” Frost murmurs. Puppy rolls off and disappears. Frost kisses my spine. “I’ll see you when it’s time.”

I turn my head and watch him and Wilder slink back away from the roof.

The door to the house opens, and Grant walks out. He jogs to the neighbours and chats with the kid for a long couple of minutes .

I curl my lip. I don’t know if he knows I’m here. This is exactly the type of crap he would pull, though, sucking up to neighbours and strangers. Making me feel like the biggest, most antisocial bitch in the world while people fawned over him.

Grant is a master manipulator and charming as fuck. All the neighbours probably have his cell number and will ring him the moment they see us.

It’s ingenious.

It’s diabolical.

It’s weird because, when I look at him, I see the guy who bandaged my knee. Who hugged me when I cried. All those life events, he was there for them. Now, he’s also the guy who tortured me, kept me locked in a cage, and separated me from my guys.

He’s both good and bad. The Grant before and the Grant after. I can’t see them as the same, or I think I will go mad.

Night falls with a slowness that makes me feel ill. Too slow. I want to get this over with.

I drop off the building and am caught by Wilder, who carefully lowers me to the ground.

“He’ll have Diablos in the bedroom. Maximum damage,” I say as we walk towards the house.

The door is unlocked when I push it open. I can’t see Stix or Puppy. But Frost and Wilder stay with me.

I slip into the house, my eyes adjust quickly to the dark. The house is torn apart. I edge in until I see the TV showing blue fuzz. It reminds me of my childhood. I press my lips together firmly and look up. The ceiling is covered in black lines like someone got a marker and drew all over it.

I edge into the lounge room and peer at the strangely misshapen armchair.

It takes me a moment to figure out that there is a body there.

The skin is drawn tight and looks hard like leather, and the mouth is open, revealing a gaping hole.

The eyes, too, are gone, the eyelids drawn back, showing the exposed sockets writhing with maggots.

It’s clearly a woman. My foster mother must have come home.

“Is that?”

“Yeah.”

“Sad.”

I click my tongue. “Yeah, really sad.”

There’s a thunk from the basement. A distraction that I’m not falling for. It’s really unlikely Grant will be in there. He hates basements .

I wander up the stairs, pushing open the master bedroom. I’m not surprised when he’s not there. Two more bedrooms yield nothing. The bathroom similarly is empty. I get to the last bedroom. It’s my old room. Well, the old room all us kids shared.

I’m alone. Frost and Wilder have gone elsewhere. As planned. I push open the door and find Grant sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankles. His eyebrows raise when he sees me.

He looks more and less. When I compare him to the Grant I grew up with, he is more, but compared to my guys…he’s nothing. Powerless. I can see him clearly, and I feel nothing for him.

“You’ve made me wait a long time, Dawson.”

“You tried to have me raped. You deserve to wait.”

“Oh, what’s a little torture between friends?”

“Becky,” I growl. “You don’t get to call me Dawson, for future reference. And I take torture personally.”

“I’ll call you what I like. I’m the one who had to put up with you for all these years. It was…excruciating.”

I shrug. “Well, I mean, you didn’t have to. You chose to.”

Grant laughs. “Oh, you think there was a choice? A blooming omega queen fell right into my lap. How could I possibly walk away? Controlling you means control of the world. It’s just unlucky that those four found you that night.”

I snort and lean against the wall. I can almost feel the creatures hidden in the house, all of them focused on me.

Focused on the guys I brought inside with me.

“So, your plan failed. I opened the worlds and didn’t close them. Sucks to be you. What I’m interested in knowing is whom you are hiding from? I would love to give them a tip. Help you reunite for old times sake.”

“How do you know that wasn’t my plan all along?” Grant sits up, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “Full of yourself now, aren’t you? Think you’re untouchable? You’re wrong. They can’t save you.”

“I don’t know, Grant, they aren’t going to stop fighting until I’m safe. Was it your plan?” I ask tiredly.

“Of course, it was. Right up until they appeared, and that’s when my beautiful thirty-year plan went down the toilet. You’ve thrown a spanner in my plans, and I want you to undo it. Close the doors. Come on, you know you want to. ”

“Ah, so you need me alive.” I smile at him and put a hand on my hip.

“Only a little bit.” Grant grins, and his mouth splits wider. “I can get you close to death.”

I shake my head. “Your arrogance is shocking.”

“It’s my best feature. Do you know what my second best feature is?”

I yawn. “Please tell me. I’m dying to know.”

“My ability to plan. Like right now, your guys should be in worlds of pain.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“Oh, you think I don’t have this all figured out? How your little shadows snuck in to try and rescue their illustrious leader? They’ll be in a nice cage now.”

I glance behind me and see Frost walk up behind me. I stand aside and let him pass, making sure we don’t touch, until he’s standing right beside me.

Grant smiles at the princeling. “What’s he going to do against a whole room of shadows?”

I smile widely. “I don’t know, what are you going to do, Frost?”

Frost smiles widely. The shadows on the walls launch themselves at him.

My mate, who isn’t really my mate, loses the illusion, revealing auburn hair and black eyes. He’s beautiful and deadly, but not mine. I block my ears as he starts to sing.

I abandon the room and find the stairs to the attic, yanking them down. Stix supports Diablos’ weight as he carries him down.

As soon as Diablos is lowered to the grass, the air snaps with lightning. The whole neighbourhood gets deadly as my four mates go hunting. Ripping apart anything that moves.

Diablos gets up on his knees as I untie his wrists. He watches intently as the alpha pack he put together dismantles decades of planning.

In minutes.

The Sirens help us, cementing an alliance that makes me shudder. What couldn’t these nine do? They could rip worlds apart.

I stand there listening to the screams of dying Shadows, demons, and Fae, as Grant, my ex-best friend, is dragged out and thrown onto the grass on his knees before me.

He looks up, and I meet his gaze.

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

He smiles. “Yes, it did.”

So be it.