Page 36 of Once a Villain (Only a Monster #3)

what Aaron would have been saying if he were here. A couple of barefooted kids crouched in the street, their heavy pendants

a sickening reminder of their status in this world.

Nick stopped outside a precariously leaning building that shouldn’t have been three levels high. His shoulders dropped as

he took in the broken windows above, the holes in the wooden roof. “I think this is the place.”

If Eleanor gave me that choice again, I’d choose you again. Every time , he’d said. But, surrounded by the consequences of that choice, Joan wondered how that could be true.

He caught her expression and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “We’re going to fix this,” he said softly.

“That’s why we’re here.”

Joan nodded, trying to smile. As Nick knocked on the door, her neck prickled. She looked over her shoulder and glimpsed a

man staring at them from a gap between buildings; another watching from a window. Nick tucked her closer to him.

“Be ironic if we got attacked here ,” Joan whispered.

Before Nick could answer, the door opened, revealing a thin, long-limbed boy. He had lighter hair than Nick, but the same

strong brow. “I saw you from the window!” He grabbed Nick’s arm, dragging him inside. “What are you doing here? Quickly!” He started up a wooden staircase that wobbled under his feet.

The boy matched Tom’s description—sandy-haired and about thirteen. He must have been Finn.

Joan’s throat tightened at Nick’s shell-shocked expression. She remembered Nick pounding desperately at his own front door.

He’d been ripped from his family and dragged into the monster world. It struck Joan that he hadn’t seen them since. That some

part of him had never believed he’d see them again. Not until this moment.

His family had been close, she knew. Eight of us in a two-bedroom flat , he’d told Joan once. My brothers and I all slept in the TV room until I was seven.

“Were you seen?” Finn asked now over his shoulder.

Nick took a breath, visibly pulling himself together. “I-I’m not sure. I hoped the disguise would be enough.”

“Disguise?” Finn paused on the staircase to peer at him. “Huh. You do look different. What happened to your scars? Wait...” A smile started at the corners of his mouth. “Are you wearing makeup ?”

“Shut up,” Nick said, his exasperation more automatic than felt.

“Who’s your friend?” Finn turned his grin on Joan. “He must like you if he’s done himself up for you.”

Joan hadn’t expected Finn to be such a little brother. She found herself smiling a little. “I’m Joan.”

“Finn. The better brother,” he said, and Joan bit back a wider smile.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Just keep walking.” As Finn turned, though, Nick’s expression shifted to something grimmer. He’d caught

sight of the thick pendant at Finn’s throat.

Like the server at the Pelican, the two numbers around his neck were the same: 8 3 27. Eight years, three months, and twenty-seven

days left of life.

Nausea hit Joan. How much time had been stolen from Finn already? Because according to that pendant, he’d never see his twenty-second

birthday.

“You all right?” Finn asked Nick as he walked up.

“Am I all right?” Nick looked his brother over. “You’re so thin.”

“Thin?” Finn snorted and shook his head, as if Nick wasn’t making any sense.

The stairs grew more rickety as they ascended, and nearly every tread had gaping, rotten holes that reminded Joan uncomfortably of the tears they’d seen in the timeline.

“Don’t worry,” Finn said to her cheerfully. “Just put your feet where I put mine.”

Joan was relieved when he finally pushed open a door on the third-floor landing. “Mary!” he called.

“ Mary? ” Nick breathed.

Joan followed Finn into a tiny room. Inside, a girl with long black hair was stoking the hearth. She straightened as they

entered.

If Joan hadn’t already heard her name, she’d never have recognized her. Nick’s sister had been fresh-faced and healthy when

Joan had met her. This version of her was thinner than Finn. Her gray apron dress hung off her, scarecrow-like. Joan had the

feeling she was all bones underneath.

Her pendant said 9 3 18 on both rows.

Joan could feel her own breath coming faster. She turned to Nick. She knew this was agony for him—seeing his family so unwell.

Seeing those pendants and knowing that so much life had been stripped from them. Knowing that he’d put them in this circumstance. Joan felt sick with guilt. He’d done it for her . If Joan had died, none of this would be happening.

She put a hand on his side, needing to touch him, and he drew a deep breath, leaning into her for a moment.

“What are you doing here?” Mary said softly. “You said that Lord Oliver was sending you somewhere safe. That you wouldn’t

be back....”

“I...” Nick shook his head. Then he took a stride and pulled his sister into a hug. He was shaking—so much that Joan knew he’d thought Mary was dead in this timeline. They’d found Mary’s ring among Nick’s things.

Except...

With a jolt, Joan saw that Mary was still wearing her signet ring.

The hairs rose on the back of Joan’s neck. It wasn’t just similar. It was the same ring , with the same faint white scratch at the corner. How was that possible? Had it time-traveled? Could you clone an item like

that? She instinctively thought not.

A shiver of disquiet rippled through the room, as if the timeline itself had registered something strange. None of the humans

seemed to notice the disturbance, and Joan realized she’d felt it with her monster sense.

Mary pulled back from the hug. “You shouldn’t be here!” she whispered to Nick. “It’s not safe for you!”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I’m sorry to come to the house like this.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mary said. “What do you need? Money? Food?”

Nick’s eyes gleamed wetly, and he looked away for a second. He’d missed his family so much, Joan knew. And at the same time,

this wasn’t his family. This wasn’t his Mary, and he wasn’t her Nick. He’d overwritten her Nick. He’d put the family in these terrible

circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Nick said again hoarsely, and Joan heard the guilt of it all, heavy in his voice. She took a step toward him.

Mary saw her and shook herself. “ I’m sorry,” she said to Joan. She had Nick’s earnest way of speaking. “I’ve been so rude. I’m Mary.”

“Joan,” Joan said. “I’m...” She looked at Nick. What was she to him? A familiar ache spread through her chest. She didn’t know. Even after they’d almost kissed last night in the

garden.

To her surprise, Nick reached for her hand and drew her close.

Mary’s face softened. “He’s never brought a girl home before. You must be special.”

“She is,” Nick said, so earnestly that Joan could feel her cheeks pinking.

She held his hand tight, wanting to be a comfort to him. And taking comfort too. Not quite how I imagined taking you home to meet the family , Nick had said, and Joan swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. They were going to fix this, she thought again.

For Mary, for Finn. For all of them.

“Are you hungry?” Mary said to them.

“No,” Joan said. The last thing she’d have wanted was to take food away from Mary and Finn. She glanced around the room properly

for the first time. It was tiny—with no kitchen or bathroom. Joan counted twelve bedrolls filling the floor space. A narrow

window gaped open, huffing frosty air—for ventilation, she guessed. In spite of the fireplace, it was colder inside than out.

“I— We brought you some money.”

That wasn’t quite true—Joan hadn’t thought to bring anything deliberately. But she still had some coins from the Serpentine

Inn. She scrounged in her pockets for them now, and Nick searched his own pockets.

Joan half expected Mary to refuse, but she took the coins with clear relief.

“You’ve been all right here?” Nick asked Mary now. His voice was still hoarse. She and Finn clearly weren’t all right.

“Course,” Mary said. “They sent guards here when you escaped, but we used all the resistance tricks you taught us. We didn’t

tell them a thing.”

Nick took that in, fists tight by his sides. “And the—the others... ,” he managed. “Alice, Robbie, Luke...”

Mary was quiet for a moment, her dark eyes so much like Nick’s. “We’ve been lighting candles for them when we can afford it.

Mum and Dad too.”

From outside, sharp whistles sounded, the notes reminding Joan of the Hathaways’ secret language.

“Guards,” Mary said. She saw Joan’s face. “You don’t have to leave—it’s just a scout warning us of a sighting. They’ll warn

again if they come into the rookery.”

“We won’t stay,” Joan said. “We don’t want to put you in danger. We just need some diagrams.” She retrieved the pencil and

paper they’d brought and explained to Finn what they were after.

“I won’t ask what this is for,” Finn said, eyebrows rising. He knelt on the floor to draw up the plans. To Nick, he said,

“I suppose you only ever saw the pens and the battleground itself....”

He sketched quickly and with detail, starting with the lowest level of the building.

He’d moved on to the ground level—the arena and stands—when more whistles sounded.

“The guards are in the rookery—on Phoenix Street,” Mary said tensely. “They don’t usually patrol this early in the day.”

Nick shot the window an alarmed look. “Maybe someone saw me coming in.”

He was still disguised, wearing Jamie’s carefully applied makeup and glasses. His own family had known him immediately—and

Joan would have too—but she suspected he’d have been unrecognizable to most people.

And if someone had snitched, surely she and Nick would already be in custody. Their opponents were time travelers, after all.

But—Joan thought suddenly of the previous timeline, where guards had spoken of unusual fluctuations whenever Nick had been

around. They hadn’t seemed able to predict where he’d be, or what he’d do. They hadn’t been able to find him.

Eleanor had detached Nick from the timeline so that he could kill the King, and Joan was beginning to suspect that Nick was

an unpredictable point on the timeline now. On the phone call with Aaron, Eleanor had talked about the wolves’ actions being

clouded from her view.

That quality wasn’t foolproof, though, Joan knew. Nick had been captured by the Court in the end.... And Joan wasn’t about to risk Nick’s family on a hunch.

“We should go,” she said now.

“Those guards are still on the outskirts,” Finn said. He hadn’t stopped sketching. “We have time.”

But there were more whistles—closer now. “They’re coming this way,” Mary said.

“We’re done,” Nick said to Finn. “ Thank you. This is exactly what we needed.”

Finn blinked up at him, face flushing a little, and Joan saw a glimpse of how much he adored and worshipped his older brother.

Joan swallowed. “Thank you,” she managed, echoing Nick. She looked over the drawings. “This is brilliant. Can you just put

some crosses where the big screens will be?” She’d been thinking that if they needed a place to lie low in the stands, the

space behind a large screen would be perfect.

“Screens?” Finn said. “What screens?”

“We were told there’d be a recorded message from the Queen,” Nick said. Cassius had mentioned it at the Pelican.

“Right,” Finn said. “She’s going to open the games with a speech—just like she does at every jubilee. But the recorded speech

is one of the three-dimensional ones.”

Joan stared. “So... it’ll look like she’s in the stands?”

Finn nodded. “The staff had to consult these old guys who set up the imperial box for the last jubilee. They had to do all

these calculations to make the projection look realistic. Funny thing is, though—the Court made the staff redo the whole box.

They had to replace all the cushions and curtains with fancy silk stuff. There’s even going to be guards in there. Guarding

nothing , though....”

Joan glanced at Nick; he was already looking back. They’d both come to the same conclusion.

Mary hugged Nick and then to Joan’s surprise, she hugged Joan too. “You know...” She tilted her head. “I’ve been thinking

you looked familiar,” she said to Joan. “I just realized why.”

Joan opened her mouth to agree that her stupid wanted poster was everywhere.

But Mary said, “There was a man who used to live up near Westminster. You look so much like him....”

“I don’t think so,” Joan said slowly. Gran had occasionally lived in Westminster, but Joan looked nothing like Mum’s side

of the family.

“Ah well. He was a lovely guy. Good with numbers. Used to help people come tax time.”

Joan felt herself go still. Dad was an accountant back home. Mary couldn’t have been talking about Dad, though. He was in

Milton Keynes—surely. Except... he had lived in London for a while before Joan was born. He’d met Mum here.

“Haven’t seen him in a long time,” Mary added.

“The guy who did our numbers for a while?” Finn said. “I heard he was secretly married to a Grave woman.”

“Really?” Mary looked doubtful. “A human and a monster?”

“Rumor is they were both on the run together for years, but the Court found them. The guy was disappeared. And the woman...”

Finn grimaced to indicate she was punished somehow.

Could they be talking about Dad? About Mum? Joan’s mouth had gone bone-dry.

“Would have been a big scandal for the Graves if it was true,” Mary said.

Aaron was waiting for them, arms folded, when they got back to the monster part of town. He’d parked the car by the river.

“Thank God—I thought you got jumped in there.” He eyed Nick. “Find your family?”

Nick nodded.

“And?”

“They’ve been reduced,” Nick said shortly.

“Ah,” Aaron said. Joan had the feeling he’d been about to say something sharp before Nick’s answer. He scratched the back

of his neck. “And was this actually worth it, or just an exercise in misery?” His tone was almost sympathetic.

“We got what we needed,” Nick said. He added firmly, “My brother’s involvement ends here.”

Aaron’s expression was difficult to read. But Nick nodded slightly in response. An unspoken mutual agreement had passed between

them, Joan realized. Your family stays out of this now, and so does mine.

“So what do we have?” Aaron asked.

“Plans for the building,” Joan said. “And something else.” She told Aaron what Nick’s brother had said about the imperial

box, and how, in past jubilees, Eleanor had appeared as a three-dimensional recording. “I think this year, she’ll be in the

stands for real.”

“So we’re in business, then,” Aaron said.

“We’ll be ready by the jubilee,” Joan said. They’d have to be.