Page 52 of Once a Villain (Only a Monster #3)

But Tom had seen him after the scrum had cleared. Nick had been lying on the ground, eyes open and lifeless. Dead.

“I thought I was going to die,” Nick said, “but I don’t even remember landing. I was falling, and then I was in that room

with you.”

Joan bit her lip. “We thought you had died,” she admitted.

“You thought what ?”

She shouldn’t have said it so bluntly. “Everyone thought you died,” she said, more gently. “I—I can’t explain it.”

Nick was beginning to look overwhelmed again. The shock of everything was catching up to him. Joan caught his hand, needing

to comfort him. Nick seemed grateful for that too. But Joan was overly aware that Aaron was standing right here. Was it still

okay to touch Nick? Everything felt so fraught suddenly. She let go of his hand again.

Aaron barely seemed to have noticed. He was looking around, expression troubled. “We need to find somewhere safe to stop.”

“Somewhere nearby,” Joan said. Nick was still weak. “I don’t think we should risk a cab.” And Aaron’s own car was out of reach.

He’d parked it on the main road outside the Argent house, and, last they’d seen, that street had been full of guards.

“I saw a place from the roof,” Aaron said. “We can lie low there for an hour or so. As soon as he’s strong enough, we can

get back to the Chimera Inn.”

There were guards everywhere, though. They milled around as if they weren’t quite sure what they were supposed to be doing.

The Argents must have realized that Nick was missing, Joan guessed.

Aaron took the lead, dodging guards with surprising skill—although once, as he turned a corner, Joan had to tug him back.

Guards were walking away from them, just a few paces ahead.

“—strangest thing,” Joan heard one of them say. “They’re saying that someone stole the gladiator’s body. We tried to intercept

the thief, but we arrived at the wrong time—just after it happened.”

“There’ve been weird fluctuations for weeks,” the other said. “I’ve heard guards keep mis-jumping in the vicinity of this time.”

Joan glanced at Nick. It had to be him. This was just confirmation of her suspicions that the timeline was fluctuating strangely

around him.

The first guard spoke again. “I thought locking the timeline was supposed to stop all these fluctuations.” His companion didn’t

respond, and he coughed as he realized he might be perilously close to criticizing the Queen. “Not that I know anything,” he added quickly.

Joan bit her lip. Despite what the guards had said, she knew that they had to be careful. Fluctuations or not, Joan had been

arrested by Nick’s side before.

As soon as the guards were out of sight, Aaron pointed out a door across the street. There was a wordless sign hanging from

the eave—an illustrated jack of spades card. It was a pub, Joan guessed. Maybe one for humans, because the jack wore a numbered

pendant saying 10, 10, 10 .

“It’ll be shut,” she whispered. “It’s still early morning.”

Aaron shook his head. “I saw people going in and out.”

As soon as the road was clear, they jogged across and ducked inside. Aaron had been right—the pub was open, but only just. Half the room still had chairs stacked onto tables.

The space inside was very dark, and the furnishings were rougher than any of the monster inns they’d been in.

Joan ordered chips just to have something on the table.

The server glanced at her scarf and then at Aaron and Nick, whose throats were bare.

He didn’t say anything, though—just took her coins and gave her change.

Joan led the others to a quiet booth at the back of the room with a view of the main road and the exits. As they sat, another

pair of guards passed by along the road. Joan withdrew instinctively. It wasn’t safe here, but she guessed they were marginally

safer than they’d been on the street. Most of the other patrons seemed to be human, and uninterested in anything but their

own company.

Aaron poured water into glasses. His fine features were tight with worry. Opposite them, Nick put his head in his hands for

a long moment. He took a breath, and then he forced himself to lift it again. “I’ll be back in a second.” He pointed to the

bathroom sign above a flight of stairs leading down.

“You can’t go alone!” Joan blurted, and he raised his eyebrows.

“I promise I’m not that injured.”

“We don’t know that,” Aaron said. It was his flattest voice. “And you’re still off-balance.”

“I’m fine ,” Nick said. “If I’m not back in five minutes, you can come and find me. But to be honest, I need a second to myself. I need

to take all this in....”

Joan swallowed. “Okay,” she said softly. She watched him, though, as he made his way downstairs. He used the rail to balance,

but he was moving more and more smoothly now. He seemed stronger than even a few minutes ago.

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and the situation hit her hard again.

Nick was alive . She’d loved him from the moment they’d met. She’d thought she’d lost him, and then he’d told her he still loved her. She

still loved him .

And then he’d died.

And she’d slept with Aaron. She’d realized she loved Aaron too.

And now Nick was alive again.

She swallowed hard. She’d never wanted to hurt Nick. She’d never want to hurt Aaron. She’d rather have hurt herself. She felt

suddenly on the verge of tears. “I’ll tell him when he gets back.”

Aaron didn’t reply, and Joan reached for his hand, needing to be closer to him. But Aaron pulled away before she could touch

him.

Joan looked up at him, confused. The withdrawal had felt like a rejection. Aaron’s expression was closed off, and Joan tried

to push away the tendril of fear in her chest. She knew from last night that he’d felt second to Nick, even when Nick had

been dead.

“This doesn’t change anything for me,” she said. “I love you. I choose you .”

“You told me that last night,” he said. “I won’t hold you to it.”

Joan searched his face, trying to read his expression. His mask was back on. He was showing her his public face, not the private

one she’d been gifted last night. And somehow that felt worse than when he’d pulled away from her touch.

He met her gaze, his gray eyes as opaque as the sea in a storm. “I think we should pretend that last night didn’t happen.”

“Didn’t happen?” Joan repeated. She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. They’d slept together. It had been her first time. She’d never been intimate like that with anyone before; she’d opened herself up to him completely.

“Last night shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was gentler than his words. “We never have to speak of it again. He doesn’t need to know.”

“I love you.” He’d said he’d felt the same. Hadn’t that been true? Had she done something since that had made him change his mind?

“Did—Did I do something wrong?” she whispered. “I’ve never really been in a relationship before. If I’ve done something wrong—”

His mask did drop then, and Joan saw a glimpse of his feelings for her. She saw again the depth of them. “No,” he said, voice gentling.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Joan wanted to feel relieved, but her throat felt painfully tight. Why was he looking at her like he was saying goodbye? “Whatever

you’re about to say, please don’t,” she whispered. She’d lost him once before, and it had been like losing herself. At least

last time, it hadn’t been his choice.

“Joan...” He said her name carefully, as if it was a fragile thing that he’d been tasked with caring for. The mask was

still off—she could see everything he was feeling.

He did love her. “I would be with you if there were any chance that I could make you happy. But I can’t.

Not while he was dead, and certainly not now he’s alive.

You can say that you choose me, but if you kept to that pledge, you’d never stop yearning for him.

It would kill you knowing that he’s alive and that he loves you back, and that you weren’t with him.

You wouldn’t be able to bear it, and I couldn’t bear that . ”

“I didn’t get over you when I lost you last time.” She’d thought of Aaron constantly; she’d woken to thoughts of him, fallen asleep with his face

in her mind.

Aaron did touch her then, his hand closing over hers with a kind of painful reverence—as if he was trying to lock in his mind

how it felt to touch her. “I saw your face when you realized he was alive. I saw you. I heard the way you said his name. The way he said yours.” He was quiet for a moment. “Tell me that you wouldn’t think

of him if you were with me.”

Joan swallowed. Last night, it had felt like Aaron was constantly thinking of Nick.

“Tell me you wouldn’t wish to be with him now that he’s alive,” Aaron said. “Tell me nothing I said was true. Tell me I’m completely wrong.”

Joan didn’t want to lie to him. She fought back tears.

A terrible knowing look flickered in Aaron’s gaze, and then the mask was back up.

Joan loved Aaron. She loved him. And she loved Nick too. It was like her heart had been torn into two halves, stamped with both their names. Losing one

of them would be like losing half of herself. “If I was with him, I’d think of you,” she said. “That’s the truth too. I need

you . Aaron, please !”

Aaron’s eyes shone slightly in the low light. “We’re going to stop Eleanor,” he said softly. “We’re going to change the timeline,

and then you and I will both forget each other, and everything will go back to the way it was always supposed to be.”

He said it with finality, as if it was a true vision of the future. We should act as if it didn’t happen , he’d said.

And if they corrected the timeline, then maybe it would come true. Last night would be erased, as if it had never happened.

Joan felt more than heard Nick’s heavy tread. She turned fast. He was walking up to the table and was almost upon them. She

and Aaron had been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t heard him coming back.

Had he overheard what they’d said? As soon as Joan saw his face, she knew it didn’t matter. His eyes were fixed on their clasped

hands on the table, how close they were sitting together. And his fogged confusion from earlier was gone now; his expression

was blooming into realization and hurt.

“Don’t overreact,” Aaron said to Nick.

“I haven’t reacted at all yet,” Nick said, the words too even. He wasn’t looking at Aaron. His eyes were on Joan like he thought

he’d known her; like he didn’t know her anymore.

It’s not what you think. I reached out for him in grief , Joan thought. But she couldn’t say that. It wouldn’t be fair to Aaron; it wouldn’t be fair to the truth. She’d reached for

Aaron because she loved him. She met Nick’s eyes. “I wanted to talk to you,” she managed.

“Well, now you don’t have to,” Nick said. And still, his voice was horribly even, horribly devoid of emotion. The terrible

hurt was there, though—it was all over his face.

“Nick.” All of this felt unreal suddenly. Joan gripped the edge of the table, needing to feel something solid. But under her fingers, even the wood felt strange. “Please.”

Nick was already backing up, though. He was going to leave.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Aaron told him sharply. “You’re still weak, and there are guards out there looking for you!”

As he said it, there was a startled exclamation from the direction of the bar.

Joan turned toward the voice—one of the waiters was staring at their table, eyes wide with horror and shock. Joan followed

his gaze and jerked back.

Under her hands, a tear was opening up in the timeline—a sickening thing, jagged edges surrounding an abyss. Joan felt like

she was standing at the top of a cliff at the edge of the world, looking down into nothing .

“What the hell is that?” someone shouted.

“It’s a tear in the timeline!”

“It’s her !” someone shouted. “ She’s doing it. She’s tearing into the timeline!”

“Someone call the guards! Now! ”

“Shit!” Aaron scrambled up, dragging Joan with him, but the tear kept opening as Joan moved, as if the world itself was tissue

under her hands.

“Stop!” Aaron said to her urgently. “You have to stop!”

“I don’t know how!” Joan said. She was terrified. The tear was larger than the table itself now, and within the hole, the

shadows of the void coiled and shifted like snakes.

And then she heard a step behind her, and Nick was standing there, reassuring and solid, a hand on her back.

“Take a breath,” he said softly, and Joan did—gulping in air.

“You’re okay. Just breathe. Just be calm.

” Joan took another breath. He tugged her gently back a step, moving back with her.

This time, to her relief, the tear didn’t rend further.

“ Guards! ” Aaron exclaimed. “We need to go!”

The guards were swarming into the pub, their red coats distinct and bright. Someone must have hailed them from the street.

“Over there!” It was the same person who’d shouted earlier. “It’s her! That’s the girl!”

“Did you see an exit when you went to the bathroom?” Aaron asked Nick.

“Dead end,” Nick said shortly. His eyes darted; he was looking for a way out too.

“The kitchen!” Joan said. There was an open door behind the bar, showing a cooking space. “They should have a door for deliveries!”

She felt a wave of déjà vu as they sprinted for it. She and Nick had been caught like this once before—in a courtyard outside

the café where she’d worked.

This time, they didn’t even make it out of the dining area. Guards were suddenly surrounding them.

“Travel out!” Nick told Aaron and Joan.

“We can’t!” Aaron said tensely. “Westminster’s on a mire!” He snapped at the nearest guard, “This is a mistake! Don’t you

know who I am?”

“Tell it to the courthouse,” the guard said as Court cuffs were burned onto their wrists. “You’re under arrest.” He gave Joan

a nasty smile. “The Queen has been looking for you.”