Page 4 of Monsters in Love

“I will see you in one.”

The scent hits me first as Earth materializes before my eyes. Terra Prime, being as raw as it is, allows many natural states to proliferate. Sewage clashes with the sugary scents wafting from a nearby food vendor. My stomachs clench at the noxious odors.

I make sure my cloaking armor is on. The last thing we need would be for a hysterical mob impeding this investigation.

My second-in-command is already here. Tag looks to be a nondescript human, forgettable at first glance thanks to our armor’s optical deflection field. The disguise wouldn’t get past true security scanners, but is good enough for what passes as technology on Earth.

Which is how my second is virtually invisible among the stream of smaller humans despite his height, mass, and set of horns. Tag, unfazed by the locals, straightens to attention when he spies my approach.

I tilt my chin to him in acknowledgement. “What do we see here, Tag?”

Tag was a younger Taurine, but his austere temperament was shaped in a landscape of war. He follows order and discipline to a near-religious zeal that I respect. He recites his initial observation in a clipped tone, each word precise and necessary.

In the end, he shows me a crushed unit in the palm of his hand. “This seems to be the end of Ms. Adalyn’s tracking. Her last known logged location.”

I take in the scene. The framework of this section of tunneling hides key components of a deflection field as well. Before I can ask, Tag says, “The deflection field was deactivated when my team and I arrived. I reactivated it to see that it was not malfunctioning and kept the field on to minimize curious persons.”

Tag narrows his gaze at the flow of humanity at large, and so I know he means the uninitiated natives.

“I took the liberty of calling in a forensic team, too,” Tag continues. “While my team is tracking down a promising scent trail, these investigators are making sure we miss nothing.”

Tag nods to a young Taurine analyzing the portal. “Report,” he commands the bullock.

The investigator stands at attention, heels together, chest out. Everything about him was shiny. He will not last long in the field. “Sir! The doorway was opened and connected to a portal. No signs of entry or exit. Sir.”

Rage simmers in my chest, a warm feeling that constricts my ribs. Poor Adalyn. I can only imagine her panic. She had been so close to safety. Her call had even connected with mine.

Tag’s face is neutral. “You know what would happen if we do not retrieve her.”

“The possibility is moot, and so we do not need to speculate,” I say.

“We do not need to speculate. The other houses will lash out. Adalyn is the prime aurochs’s daughter—”

I hold my hand out to squash his words. We don’t know what kind of spies may be listening. Besides, I do not need to be reminded of her pedigree. An aurochs’s daughter or no, she is under my protection and should have been untouchable.

“House Nighthold can withstand threats,” I say.

“We are strong but one house against a swarm will eventually fall.”

Tag says the truth, but I refuse to poison my thinking with any possibility of failure. To lose a precious gift like the one Adalyn represents would cost House Nighthold. Once others doubt our ability to protect our stable, it would leave the females open to being poached and taken—if the females even choose to stay.

“Then let’s not allow for that possibility,” I say. “What are you holding?” My second looks like he had bits of random debris in his hand.

“The investigation team found these. They were scattered closely to the scene with the same scent signatures that overlaps with Adalyn. It could be related.” He presents the collected bits of personal items and an empty bag.

I pluck the bag from his hand, holding it aloft between my thumb and forefinger. An offensive odor clings to one strap. I’ve smelled it before, and grit my teeth against the memory. Viper pheromones mingles with the wet, dank musk of old dirt.

“We found these items near Adalyn’s broken comm unit, along with this device. Bring the device here,” Tag calls out.

The bullock from the forensic team shows me a unit similar to Adalyn’s. “The humans call it a mobile phone,” the forensic investigator informs me.

I raise my brow at him before he retreats to the rest of his team to analyze more data. The unit in my hand is a more primitive model than what we carry, but its purpose is still obvious. I tap the screen. “It seems to be locked.”

Tag looks at it for a moment and fiddles with the settings. “I believe the power is low. Here, I have a spare charger.” He slaps a charger around the phone, and after a moment, it glows to life. Tag hands it back to me.

Text messages float across the screen. I scroll through them, hoping for a hint of something. Nothing. “This is unfortunately a dead end. What do we have—”

The screen lights up once more, cutting off my words. I see that the notification is for a message from someone labeled “Mom.” From my interpretation of the jumble of hieroglyphs, Mom is full of hearts and tears yet is laughing.

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