Page 2 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

Nine Years Ago—Mercy Hospital for Children

The dream was always the same.

She was running through the woods as quickly as her frail body was able, something— no someone —fast on her trail.

The moon was high and full, a glowing orb in the sky above the trees, casting the dense forest in fluctuating streaks of pearly light.

Her breath came heavy, lungs aching, heart hammering.

Whoever had given chase meant her terrible harm.

She could smell his intention, enveloping her far before his arms were able.

Hide. Her head whipped back and forth, searching for a suitable location but finding nothing. There were only thin tree trunks and a carpet of pine needles.

She tripped then and went sprawling, fear and frustration clashing inside her, an internal gong of soul-crushing defeat, as she rolled to her back, ready to face her attacker.

She was certain she’d be no match for the person in pursuit.

She’d be no match for a young child if he or she had an ounce of strength, and that unfortunate truth didn’t change in her dreams. But she refused to die unaware.

She’d face what was coming. She’d look death in the eye as he overwhelmed her, her spirit the muscle her body lacked.

The blur of a fast-approaching figure. A flash of silvery white. A gasp of breath. Hers.

And then the dream…changed. Always before, she’d hidden, rolling herself into the smallest ball she could inside a fallen tree trunk or behind a large enough rock.

Her pursuer skidded to a stop, and his face came into view.

Her heart lurched, staggered breath pluming in the chilly air.

Autumn blinked, lifting her head as far as she was able from her reclining position.

A breeze blew, the boughs of the trees taking command from the wind and leaning aside in tandem.

Moonglow glittered through the created opening and fell over the man… no, boy.

He’s a boy, no older than me. But…

Her gaze danced over him once and then again before she met his eyes. The trees swayed, the shaft of moonlight fading to sterling tinted night. But in that moment, she’d seen him. All of him.

He was a boy, yes, but he was larger than any adolescent or teen she’d ever seen and unusually muscular, his chest bare, a large, jagged scar running from his throat to his navel.

And his hair. His hair was stark white and bone straight, hanging over his ears and in front of his eyes, a striking contrast to his smooth, light brown skin. He gave his head a small jerk, his choppy bangs shifting from his forehead to reveal midnight eyes, dark and fathomless.

And there was something protruding from his hair on his right temple. It looked curiously like a bolt.

What are you?

What are you going to do to me?

Her heart quickened, the forest wavering. This was a dream, of course, brought on by the medication, but it was the most vivid dream she’d ever had. And the only time she’d been caught.

She felt the bite of the cold, the hardness of the earth under her, and the burn of her weakened muscles, crying out from her efforts.

She couldn’t explain it, but in this bizarre hallucination where her brain was somehow registering her senses, it only stood to reason she’d feel whatever he did to her as well. Fear quaked inside.

She lifted her chin, drawing her shoulders back.

“Do your worst.” Her voice quivered, but her gaze did not.

His heavy brow lowered as he leaned forward, peering at her more closely. His fists were clenched, but she no longer sensed that violent intention rolling off him the way she had before.

He took a step forward, then another, looming over her now, seeming to want to get a closer look.

He was…something. His hair…it…sparkled. His dark eyes were an endless universe.

“How did my mind come up with you ?” she wondered aloud.

His head twitched again, gaze narrowing.

Light shifted, tree branches swayed, and still, they stared.

She saw now that his eyes were a deep twilight blue, the shade of the sky mere moments before it dimmed to black.

Her breath released. She wasn’t scared anymore.

It seemed like years that she’d been running from him, hiding , and now that she’d come face-to-face with her nightmare, she was no longer frightened. Funny. His pale brows twitched.

“You’re…magnificent.” The word was whispered.

It didn’t seem quite right. Not that he wasn’t magnificent.

He was. But he was more than that. “Are you made of nighttime itself?” she asked the boy, eyes like twilight, hair like moonglow, a fanciful collaboration of all that was mysterious and nocturnal.

Something about the thought delighted her. Her mind was a more interesting place than she’d given herself credit for. She’d created him. With the help of narcotics, true, but even so… She let out a slight laugh, and the boy reared back like she’d slapped him with the faint, breathy sound.

Behind her, a scream rang out, high-pitched and filled with terror.

The boy looked sharply in that direction, his fists rising as though readying for a fight.

His hands were so large, veins protruding in his muscled forearms. He looked back, hesitated, then before she knew what was happening, he scooped her up as though she were a mere feather, deposited her behind a nearby tree, and then dumped an armful of pine needles over her.

He leaned in, putting his finger over his full lips.

Shh. He even smelled like the night—wind and fire.

He backed away, fading before her. The dream became misty again, the forest blinking, twisting, the boy made of night growing faint. He seemed to hesitate before turning and ducking away out of sight.

He hadn’t attacked her at all.

He’d…saved her.

Autumn let her head fall back to the earth, her lips tipping, eyes shutting as the dream world around her glittered to dust.

***

She woke with a smile. But her smile faded as her eyes opened, the mint-green hospital walls greeting her just as they did each morning.

Autumn sighed as she sat up, stretching her back and trying not to catalogue her aches and pains.

What was the point? Everything hurt. Everything always hurt.

Gingerly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed to sit up, waiting as the head rush subsided.

“Sleep well, sunshine?”

“Better than usual.” She paused as Genie, the morning shift nurse, wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm and pressed a button as the cuff tightened.

Autumn focused on breathing as what she knew was a slight tightening to anyone else made her grimace in pain.

“I had the dream,” Autumn said, her breath releasing along with the machine-induced grip.

Genie looked from the numbers on the machine to Autumn. “Did you manage to escape again?” she asked.

Autumn shook her head, the smile creeping over her face. “No. I got caught this time.”

Genie’s expression registered confusion before she let out a short laugh, removing the cuff and tossing it aside, apparently satisfied with whatever the number read. “And that was a good thing?”

Autumn nodded. “I was caught by moonlight himself.” She stepped down from the bed, wincing as her hips took her slight weight, the flare of pain soon subsiding so she could move.

“Ah. Well, who doesn’t want to be caught by moonlight himself? He was very handsome I’m assuming?” Genie asked, shooting Autumn a smile.

“Handsome?” Autumn frowned, conjuring the boy’s face.

“No, he was much more than handsome. He was…” She still couldn’t think of the right word.

“Fascinating,” she settled on, picturing him again.

She wished she knew how to draw well. She’d sketch him now while he was still fresh in her mind, before he faded away as all dreams tended to do with time.

Even very vivid ones. But she didn’t know how to sketch well.

Still, she’d take her journal to class and do the best she could.

Those eyes, that hair, that scar… Of course her mind had added a scar.

That was almost to be expected. She was surrounded by scars.

By sickness. By surgery. It only stood to reason that her unconscious thoughts had hung on to that aspect of her life, even in sleep.

She looked at her arm, where scratch marks stood out. She’d done it before, scratched herself in the night and woken with bloody skin. This time wasn’t so bad.

“Do you need help in the bathroom?” Genie asked. Autumn had almost passed out the day before when she’d leaned over the sink and stood too fast.

“No, but will you stay close by?”

“I’ll be right here, changing your bedding. Autumn—”

Autumn turned, her questioning look turning into a frown when she saw Genie’s suddenly troubled expression. She took a few steps away from the bathroom door she’d been about to enter. “What is it?”

Genie’s shoulders lowered. “Zoey died in her sleep last night.”

Autumn’s stomach plummeted to her feet, and bile burned her throat. She brought her hand to her mouth, giving herself a moment before speaking. “Zoey? No. She was doing so well.”

“We all thought she was too. You know how it goes though. This damn disease…things can deteriorate rapidly.” This damn disease. Genie paused, gazing at Autumn with concern. “They’re going to make the announcement at breakfast, but I thought…I thought you’d like to take a little time…”

To cry alone. The words went unsaid, but she saw them in Genie’s eyes.

Zoey. Autumn’s heart constricted, chest aching as a steady buzz took up in her head.

She pictured the tiny twelve-year-old girl with dark curls and a heart of pure gold.

She’d dreamed of being a ballerina. An impossible wish that could never come true no matter how long she’d lived.

She’d done slow pirouettes down the hall just three days before…

Dance, sweet Zoey. You’re well now. There is no sickness where you are.

Autumn had suffered this same clawing grief and uncertainty so many times before—this familiar tipping feeling that made her want to grab on to something solid and the terrifying knowledge that there was nothing there that would hold her steady.

It never got easier. It never demolished her any less. She could only ride it out.

“Thank you, Genie.” Autumn did want to cry. Where no one could hear her. Where she could be alone with her grief. Where she could mourn again when she’d already mourned so many times before. Yet each loss cut just as deep, the scars she carried internally far deeper than any that marred her skin.