Page 61 of My Monster’s Keeper

“Just give it to us so we can leave.”

“One condition, but I need to talk to them about it. You get out.” Diablos glowers at me and snorts a plume of red-tinged smoke.

I stare down that long finger pointing at me. The urge to bite it rises up, pressing in on me.

“You’re treading on thin ice, Di.”

He stomps a cloven hoof.

“Oh, my god! How old are you?”

“Hartley, take her out before I forget why I need her.”

“Just try it, Demon!” Puppy snarls, and my heart jolts.

What is this? Feelings for them all now?

Hartley puts a hand behind my back, not quite touching me but certainly guiding me.

“We’ll be in the kitchen.”

He leads me through a couple of arched doorways until we get to a kitchen several times bigger than mine. Hartley indicates a stool at the island and goes to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of orange juice. He fills two glasses, slides one to me, and just stays leaning against the island on the other side.

“So, things are going well between you guys?”

“Well enough,” I say evasively.

Hartley nods, his expression far away. “Be sure.”

“What?”

“Be sure. I can tell you have feelings, no, don’t interrupt, just listen. Their relationships are different from ours and those four are alphas. They need an omega. Anyone less would eventually be destroyed. So you have to be sure.”

I stare at him, trying to hear what he’s saying. But it feels like someone just called me out, like I’m doing something wrong. But I’m not, am I?

“They don’t want someone like me.”

Hartley snorts. “Darling, you’re a cop, and I’m a cop, don’t bullshit me.”

I look away. “So, you’re saying stay away from them?”

“Nah, I’m saying they will change you, and you will be different, and you might not survive it. The only ones who can come out unscathed are omegas.”

“You survived.”

Hartley pulls his top off.

“Whoa!” I protest.

He pulls a face and turns around. “Not unscathed.”

The burn is an immense circle that takes up almost all of his upper back. It’s got a weird swirl of lines of raised scar spiralling into what looks like a white star.

“Shit, Hartley.”

“It was worth it, but you gotta understand, Dawson, this is forever. There’s no divorce, no do-overs, no oops or morning after regrets. It’s one and done. Locked, knotted, whatever you want to call it. There’s no exchange. But I only have Diablos. There are four of them and just one of you.”

I stare at him, thinking hard. Doing the math, but two and two aren’t coming up at four.