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“ O h, my goodness! Are you all right?!”
Gwendolyn A.
Gooch weakly pushed herself up from the carpet.
The library page, Jared, had been stocking the shelves when Gwen had fallen nearby.
He knelt beside her as the other patrons of the Burlington Public Library looked on.
“I think so … oh, I just got so dizzy,” she said, an uncomfortable expression on her face.
“Oh, you poor thing!” another woman cried.
The library patron joined Jared in helping Gwen to her feet.
They escorted her to one of the nearby tables, sitting her in a chair.
She weakly leaned back, reaching into the pocket of her modest tweed dress—a blue thing that drew little attention—for a handkerchief.
“I don’t know what happened,” Gwen said, pressing the cloth to her damp brow.
“I must have just gotten so dizzy. Mother hasn’t been feeling well, and I’ve been so busy caring for her, I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting my own health.”
The wave of sympathy was fucking delicious.
A delicacy that Gwen had soon realized was her preferred choice of meat, as it was.
Nothing quite tasted as good as pity.
The more pathetic, the better.
Fear was a delicacy, but pity was a lot easier to pull from humans without garnering suspicion.
It took all her strength not to smile in glee as she greedily swallowed the human emotions.
All the while maintaining a facade of ignorance as Jared and the patron grew exhausted.
Her pink hair was always vibrant nowadays.
“Well … I should get back to work,” Jared said, blinking several times.
Almost as if he was trying to stay awake.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Gwen said.
“Thank you, thank both of you. I think I feel a lot better.”
Once the pair were out of eyesight, Gwen quickly changed her forlorn posture.
Shifting in her seat to cross her legs as she pulled a pen from the inside of her jacket.
Gwen opened her palm and quickly scribbled onto her hand.
I miss you.
The ink on her hand slowly faded as Gwen glanced around the library.
She placed the pen back inside her jacket, pushed her chair in, and slowly made her way to the new fiction section.
Gwen was in the middle of organizing one of the display tables when a familiar burning sensation seared her palm.
As casually as she could, Gwen opened her palm.
I miss you more.
I can’t wait to ruin you.
Gwen grinned. Fuck, he was so romantic and—
“Let me guess, your boyfriend’s gonna be in town?”
Gwen whirled, then glared at the familiar model smile.
“Baron, what are you doing here?” Gwen hissed.
“Especially looking like this?”
Dr. Monday, or as Gwen had come to know him over the past year, Baron Monday, was so much more than Gwen could have ever anticipated.
What had once just been the handsome face of her dentist was now someone Gwen actually called friend.
It took a special kind of person to befriend a monster, so naturally it was in Gwen’s favor that Baron happened to be one.
“What’s wrong with how I look?” Baron asked, glancing at his outfit.
He was bundled up; appropriate given it was the end of December.
The library still had Christmas decorations that would need to be pulled come January first. That was if Gwen could wrangle the newer library pages into doing it.
“The problem is you look like Dr. Monday,” Gwen said with a saccharine smile as she shuffled more books.
“The same Dr. Monday that’s working for them. ”
“Well, it’s funny that you mention it,” Baron said, voice slipping from the American accent of Dr. Monday to his more natural Irish.
“That’s exactly why I’ve come by.”
“Baron,” Gwen sighed.
“Not this again.”
“Oh, c’mon Gwennie,” Baron all but whined.
“Don’t ‘c’mon Gwennie’ me, mister,” Gwen huffed as she walked toward the fiction section.
There were fewer prying eyes there.
“Why not?” he asked, trailing Gwen like her beloved Piki.
“Because it’s kind of in bad taste to ask the fiancé of the demon who was imprisoned by the same organization you work for to join said organization,” Gwen said plainly .
It was one of the unfortunate obstacles in their friendship.
It had been over a year since Ambrosius was forced to leave, and it had been really hard on Gwen.
And with the Hobby Store Cult Murders making news, Gwen had fled Everett fairly quickly.
Thankfully, Ambrosius’ power had a funny impact on the security cameras, and all evidence of her involvement had been erased.
Gwen had traveled north, found a small condo to rent, and was now a library assistant at the Burlington Public Library.
A task that would have been impossible, if not for Ambrosius pulling strings.
Even halfway across the world, the demon was still caring for Gwen’s welfare.
Just the same as Gwen was, by continuing the hunt for more of the Bound Obscene cult members.
Despite her best effort to destroy James’ post, the internet was forever.
Rumors spread, and before Gwen knew it, she was spending her free time investigating occult-like incidents that could potentially lead her to the remaining cult members.
Which made things incredibly awkward when it came to her relationship with Baron, considering…
“That’s precisely why you should do it, Gwennie!” Baron crowed.
“ Velata Umbra has a need for people just like you.”
Ugh, Gwen hated even hearing the name of the organization.
Only pretentious elites would name their organization in Latin.
“People like me?” she scoffed.
“Yes,” Baron insisted, leaning close to whisper.
“Monsters, Gwennie. The kind that aren’t a part of the big four.”
The Big Four.
The name given to the four that dominated all monsters by sheer population and knowledge alone.
Ghosts, werewolves, witches, and vampires were all self-governed.
When something went wrong with humans, they had their own ways of handling things.
Their own governments and societal rules to help them out of exposure.
For the rest of monster-kind, however, they relied on Velata Umbra for that.
A self-appointed organization responsible for the containment and secrecy of monsters from humans.
The same organization that had done its best to clean up the horror of what happened at Master Basting .
“Still not seeing the appeal,” Gwen hummed.
“Besides, isn’t it against your best interest to be working against the organization? My patron is enemy number one, remember?”
The awkward revelation that Baron worked for the people who had locked Ambrosius inside the Antiquarium so many centuries ago had temporarily strained their relationship.
Granted, Baron hadn’t known that when he had impulsively signed up within the last year.
At first, it seemed like the only obstacle was the usual demon versus fae conflict.
Yet for all their disagreements, Ambrosius and Baron had a begrudging respect for the other.
Gwen was pretty certain it was because of their affection for her that the pair didn’t outright kill each other.
“I never said I joined for the betterment of the organization,” Baron smiled.
“I have my own self-interests, my own goals, just like you.”
Gwen’s amber eyes narrowed.
“Tell me why you want me to join and I’ll consider it. But no bullshit, Baron. Remember, I can tell the difference.”
Gwen’s power to read human emotions had grown tremendously.
She could now sense latent emotions that lingered in spaces and objects.
She had even started to subtly pick up Baron’s emotions as well.
It was actually how she had stumbled across his true nature.
Baron had a penchant for shape shifting into other humans and popping into Gwen’s life.
A strange game that Gwen had indulged in even after she had realized his particular flavor of pity tasted the same, no matter what he looked like on the outside.
Baron—despite his normal jovial attitude—appeared almost somber.
He glanced over his shoulder, a gesture that would have been labeled as paranoia if Gwen wasn’t constantly doing the same.
Being a monster in human society was rarely a safe situation.
“I’m using the organization to search for someone. Someone dear to me that I lost a long time ago,” Baron confessed.
“But even with my power, they’re being tight-lipped. Having someone who can get a better read on them would be … helpful for me.”
Gwen shifted on her modest heels, staring Baron down.
Yet, there was none of his usual evasiveness, only sincerity.
Must be desperate if you need me, Gwen thought.
“Who are they?”
“My sister.”
The admission surprised her.
Baron had never mentioned his family, but it wasn’t as if Gwen had volunteered anything about hers either.
Truthfully, when they weren’t avoiding sensitive subjects, Gwen was gushing about Ambrosius while Baron was gushing about his latest one-night stand.
Still, Gwen would need time to think about it.
While she was more inclined to be impulsive, the incident with her neighbor had made Gwen cautious when it came to matters around the occult.
And The Veiled Shadow was one of the biggest keepers of occult secrets .
“I’ll think about it,” Gwen said.
“Truly. But I’ll have to talk to Ro about it.”
Baron nodded, “I figured. Just … let me know soon? Things are getting, well, intense. I’ll be going on assignment next week.”
“What for?”
“Oh, there are rumors that some humans got into a bit of witchcraft,” Baron sighed.
“You know how they are. Apparently, these ones have figured out how to use it to sell things, like lipsticks and perfumes. The local witches should be able to handle it, but the organization wants to follow up on it.”
“Humans really need to learn to leave things alone,” Gwen grumbled.
“Tell me about it. If it’s not enchanted makeup, it’s illegal reanimation or negligent promises of cure-all’s,” Baron complained.
“I busted a ring of poorly versed necromancers back in March—and I say ‘necromancer’ loosely. More like wannabes. We had to talk to the local necromancer families. It was a whole thing. Super messy—like working with the mafia.”
Gwen shook her head.
“Baron, get out of my library already. I’m off in twenty-minutes, and I have a date tonight.”
“So, the old bastard is coming home tonight, hmm?”
“Cool it.”
“Fine.”
The face of Dr. Monday shimmered, a strange magic that Gwen didn’t understand.
Gwen supposed she may never know what Baron really looked like, but she had suspicions.
Could see the flick of gold in his eye before another familiar face was staring back at her.
“Really?” Gwen huffed as she stared down at him .
“What?” Baron asked, his voice identical to Mrs. Han’s.
“It’s familiar. I’m used to it.”
“Whatever, scooch. I have patrons to look after.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t gorge yourself on too much pity, Gwennie.”
“I won’t if you can keep yourself away from eating teeth, you weirdo.”
Mrs. Han’s laughter filled the stacks as Baron walked away.
Piki greeted Gwen the minute she walked through the door.
His little feet pawed at Gwen’s boring shoes as she locked it behind her.
“Hi, Piki!” she grinned, kicking off her shoes.
She scooped the weird little dog up into her arms, making kissing sounds as Piki licked her cheek.
The bright interior boasted bold colors and neons that would most likely assault anyone’s eyes, but Gwen loved it.
Having a condo—one Gwen could decorate—meant she didn’t have to abide by silly design rules.
She went wild with colors, pushed bold designs, and let her creativity drive her.
all, the only place she ever had to be kind of ordinary was at work.
And even then, Gwen pushed the boundaries of the dress code.
She still had gold and pink Christmas decorations up, less for celebration and more out of habit.
Gwen was a sucker for a lot of holidays.
And with the amount of space her newer place had, it was difficult not to be a little more extra.
Unlike her old apartment, Gwen’s condo had enough space for her to have her own office.
A room dedicated entirely to her dolls and work.
They weren’t much different from the dolls Gwen had crafted over the past years.
More macabre than before, but still bright and colorful.
The doll Gwen had made for Ambrosius was still sitting at her work desk.
The dear was a funny thing.
She liked to move around the apartment from time to time, scribbling notes for Gwen to find with suggestions for new outfits she wanted.
Why, Gwen was certain she would start talking any day now.
Her work room wasn’t the only room Gwen was proud of.
She finally had a bedroom with a closing door after a decade without one.
Technically, it was a guest room, as Gwen had swapped the primary bedroom to accommodate her growing doll work.
But Gwen had kept her bedroom ready nearly every night for when Ambrosius would eventually come home.
Something Gwen couldn’t help but eagerly look forward to as she fed Piki.
“You have to be a good boy tonight, okay, Piki? No biting Ambrosius, he doesn’t like that, and I really don’t want to make you disappear.”
Luckily, Gwen’s sofa provided Piki with a rather large window.
Piki often sat there, keeping a watchful eye on the neighborhood.
He was an excellent little guard dog.
Speaking of…
Gwen glanced at her wristwatch and blanched.
Shit, she needed to get moving.
Gwen dashed to the laundry room, chucking her boring tweed into the wash, along with her underwear .
“Don’t peek at me,” she teased the fuzzy blue backed spiders.
They had made their new colony in her laundry room, as it was the only room in her condo without a window.
They liked the dark, and Gwen hadn’t seen a fly or pantry moth since she moved in.
Piki was still gobbling up the liver she had left him as Gwen hurried to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Her bedroom boasted a large canopy bed with teal sheets and pillows, but not much else.
Gwen had wanted her bedroom to have only two purposes.
Quickly, Gwen pulled on a bra.
A cute, sheer rainbow thing with butterflies that covered her nipples.
The panties matched, too, and Gwen had excitedly bought the coordinating thigh high stocking, which she slipped on.
They were too cute and too colorful not to buy.
Reaching into her closet, Gwen pulled a cloak out.
Unlike the abysmal table cloths the cultist had used, Gwen’s was high quality.
all, she made the damn thing herself.
The cloak was a dark teal, but the interior was jet black.
Not only was the material gorgeous, it felt good against her skin.
The ribbon that Gwen used to tie at her neck a lot finer, too.
Creating a nice opening at the front that showed off Gwen’s lingerie, but could easily be tied shut.
A massive improvement compared to what the deceased cultist had.
“Now I just need to light some candles—”
As if someone read her mind, the candles around Gwen’s room lit at the same time.
Gwen frowned, glancing around the room.
That wasn’t me so—
Hands.
Hands moved beneath her cloak.
They glided across her back, her legs, her ass in slow, languid movements.
Gwen shivered as the hands pushed through her arms, curling around her waist. Hands that rubbed her bare arms, that traced the curve of her breasts.
Gwen gasped as a hand came around her throat.
“Hello, my bittersweet . Did you miss me?”
Gwen grinned.
“Hi, Ro. Oh, I missed you so much.”
Ambrosius pulled Gwen against his body, his free hand settling comfortably on her lower stomach.
Fingers gently circling the sheer fabric of her panties.
He leaned over her shoulder, catching Gwen’s dark gaze with his own.
“I missed you, too, my love.”
The End.
Table of Contents
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