Page 11 of Once a Villain (Only a Monster #3)

“Running out of time—what do you mean ?” Joan had so many more questions—where was Gran, and how was she speaking to them? But that was what came out first.

And Gran was somewhere else—behind her, a pink line of sunset ran along the horizon. Here, the moon glowed in a black sky, half-veiled

by clouds.

“The security team’s coming this way!” Aaron whispered. There was more color in his face now that the shadows of the void

were gone, and some of Joan’s nausea had eased too. She could still sense the wrongness of that tear, though, thrumming like a bass note beneath everything.

Joan turned fearfully. In the woodland, lights flashed among the trees. It wouldn’t be long before the searchers continued

down the lawn and into the formal garden. Or maybe the guards would come back.

“Gran,” Joan whispered. “There are people after us! We have to go!”

Gran looked over her own shoulder as if there was a threat at her end too, and Joan’s stomach dropped. Was Gran in danger?

Her face was pale and lined, and she was thinner than the last time Joan had seen her. “I’ll speak quickly,” Gran whispered.

“This window we have won’t last long.”

Joan tried to push aside her dismay. She wanted to talk to Gran properly, but there wasn’t time. Joan wished there was—she’d missed Gran so much.

“Eleanor changed the timeline,” Gran whispered. “I understand why. When the King killed your grandfather, when he killed your

mother, I wanted to raze the timeline too.” Love and pain pinched her face. “I’d have done anything to bring them back.”

Joan took a sharp breath. Gran had never spoken about Joan’s grandfather; she rarely spoke of Mum.

“But I’ve seen glimpses of where you are,” Gran continued. “I’ve seen how humans are treated, the pendants they wear.” She

looked heartsick. “Eleanor twisted the timeline beyond recognition. She made something wrong . She created a world that was never supposed to exist.”

“It is wrong,” Joan agreed, and she felt Nick shudder in response. The thing was, this world was even worse than Nick knew—he was

human, and didn’t have an inner monster sense of the timeline. Some part of Joan had sensed the corruption as soon as she’d

arrived here. There was something off about the world; she could almost smell it, like a faint scent of rotting meat.

“You can still fix this,” Gran told them.

“ How? ” Nick said tensely.

“You cannot go to the version of me in that timeline,” Gran said.

“She isn’t like me. I had a watershed moment—an event that changed me.

I fell in love with a member of the Grave family, and through him, I learned of the erasure of the Graves.

I wasn’t a good person when I was young, but even for me, that was too much to bear.

It turned me against the Court. Made me care about something more than myself.

But... my counterpart never experienced that. ”

“Gran...” Joan had so many questions, and no time to ask them.

“Those searchers are getting closer,” Aaron whispered. “We have to go!”

Joan’s heart stuttered. She looked over her shoulder; the lights were on the lawn now. “Gran, we have maybe a minute ,” she whispered. “They’re going to find us here!”

Gran leaned in closer. “You can’t trust my counterpart, but there are people who can help you there. You’ll know them by the mark of the wolf.”

Joan felt a horrible jolt. In her mind’s eye, she saw the stamp of the wolf at the bottom of Ronan’s message. Nick’s breath

caught. He’d remembered the stamp too.

Gran had told Joan back at the Serpentine Inn to find people using the mark of the wolf. Joan had thought at the time that

she was hallucinating, but it was clear now that she hadn’t been. She leaned forward now. “Gran,” she said shakily. “I found

one of them. I mean, he found me . But he’s dead! What do we do? How do we find more wolves?”

Gran didn’t answer. She was looking over her shoulder again, searching the skyline.

“Gran!” Joan whispered. “Please! I don’t know what to do!”

“I don’t think she can hear you,” Aaron whispered. “I don’t think she’s heard any of us this whole time.”

“What?” What was he talking about? “Of course she can hear us,” Joan whispered. “We’ve been having a conversation.” But beside her, Nick was looking at Aaron, eyes widening. He’d gone pale.

“No,” Aaron said. “She hasn’t responded to anything you’ve said. And she doesn’t seem to know that Nick and I are here.”

“Gran, you can hear me, right?” Joan asked.

Gran’s eyes were on the frame of the tear. “This window is closing,” she said.

The tear was getting smaller; the view was visibly contracting, like a droplet of water evaporating on a hot day. A moment ago, it had

shown a swath of garden in the background, but only Gran was visible now.

“Gran, please tell me you can hear me!” Joan said.

Gran didn’t respond. Her eyes were still on the frame, and it was suddenly clear that Aaron was right—Gran couldn’t hear them. Hadn’t heard anything they’d said.

“You must be on your guard!” Gran said quickly now. “Eleanor has eyes everywhere. She’ll know—”

Gran didn’t finish her sentence—she was gone. The tear in the timeline had vanished, and the space in front of them was just

ordinary evening air again. Come back , Joan thought. Panic was high in her throat. We need your help!

Aaron touched Joan’s arm, looking meaningfully at the approaching lights. They had to go.

Joan’s mind whirled as she and Nick hurried after Aaron on a pathless route in the dark. She kept hearing Gran’s words in

her head, and her own fruitless pleas for Gran to hear her.

Behind them, the security team had finally reached the formal garden, their searchlights flickering along the hedged paths. A dog barked, and Joan braced herself for the sound of pattering paws. But the dogs must have been upwind; they didn’t seem to know they were here.

Joan gasped with relief as they reached the hedge separating the front and back of the house. Gaps in the leaves showed distant

glimpses of the Thames. They were almost out.

“Quickly!” Aaron murmured. “There’s a gate just—” His words were cut off by a shout.

“Intruders on the grounds! Over here!”

Joan threw up a shielding hand against a sudden glare of light as the space ahead filled with figures in black uniforms.

Nick pushed past Joan and Aaron. “ Run! ” he ordered them.

Joan turned and turned, but there wasn’t anywhere to run. She was horribly reminded of the time she’d disturbed an anthill and insects had boiled from the ground. People were

everywhere.

A wave of fear ran through Joan. Was Edmund Oliver here, among the searchers?

They say there’s something wrong with the head of the Oliver family , the guard had said earlier tonight. Joan had only met Edmund twice, but she’d clocked it too; he’d looked down at her, eyes

cold, like she was an insect he’d wanted to pull the wings from.

And what would he be like here , in this world, unfettered by any rules but his own? What was he going to do to them?

A man in a security uniform pushed through the crowd.

Joan tensed, ready to fight, but the man stopped in his tracks, shock washing over his face.

“My lord Oliver?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Joan tracked his gaze to Aaron, whose mouth had fallen open.

“My lord Oliver,” the man said, addressing Aaron again. He visibly pulled himself together. “My apologies for the reception.

We weren’t expecting you back so early.” Over his shoulder, he called: “Have the servants ready the lord’s room! Tell them

the head of the family is home!”