Page 99 of Monsters in Love

He approached, and Isabelle swore the room grew colder the closer he drew. “I heard the monsters stirring this morning,” he intoned, “and thought to myself, surely the Great Golden Gods would not allow the demons to taint our sacred day of harvest. This one day when the hard working people of Windhaven enjoy the fruits of their labors. But it is not so.”

“Is that because of demons, or because ye’ve been hoarding all the meat,” someone cried.

Rumbles of agreement trembled through the room.

Despite her antics, or perhaps because of them, Isabelle’s sister was much loved. The people were protective of her—and, like Belle, they’d all lost too many loved ones to cries of demons. She noticed the miller and blacksmith drawing near, their expressions fierce.

“Enough!” the bishop cried. “We must rid our town of this menace.”

A group of guards encircled them. Isabelle tried to fight them off, but there were too many and her fists did nothing against chainmail or plate. She couldn’t keep them from getting ahold of Emmi. She begged and pleaded for mercy, but they grabbed her, shoved her into Jaston’s grip.

Others formed a line between them and the townspeople, moving in sync as Emmi was dragged outside.

The squeal of the gate cut through Isabelle.

“No!” Gaze locked on her sister, she fought against Jaston’s hold. “Don’t do this!”

“Too late, Belle,” Jaston hissed, arms tightening around her middle so much they crushed her lungs. “You should have been willing.”

Unable to speak, barely able to breathe, she staggered forward in his grasp. The pain of her ribs creaking beneath the pressure was nothing compared to the horror in her heart. By the time they reached the square, the grate to the demons was already open. Guards brandished swords and shields, creating a deadly corridor, down which Emmi and Isabelle were carried.

Behind them, she could hear Mama wailing. But she was begging Emmi to repent and Belle hated her for it. Even now, with Emmi held at the edge of the pit, her mother chose the Chastry.

“You will repent,” the bishop intoned, voice pitched to somehow carry over the crowd. “If you emerge, we will know you are cleansed of your sins. Thus, the Fallen Gods demand.”

“Horseshit.” Gods, but her sister was glorious. Head high, Emmi pointed with her free hand at the bishop. “You’re an evil bastard, and so’s your captain. I’d rather be with the demons that used against my sister.”

“What a pity it came to this.” Jaston’s grip slackened.

Isabelle gulped in a breath. “No! Emmi, no! You’re all I have left.” She craned her neck around to look at the bishop past Jaston’s shoulder. “Please, Your Eminence. I beg you. Please let her go. She’s just a child. If the Chastry can’t save a child, what good is it?”

The bishop didn’t acknowledge her plea, didn’t so much as look at her. Long, thin fingers gestured toward the pit. “The creature spouts sedition like a fish does water. Cast her back to her kind!”

“No—” Isabelle screamed as her sister was shoved through the opening. “Emmi!”

Dear Gods, it was happening again.

Her loved one was being cast below, and Isabelle was forced to watch. Jaston was holding her, just as he had the year before. All her maps and her planning and cries and she was still helpless. It was the previous year repeating, a mirror of her nightmare.

Except for one thing.

She stilled.

This time Jaston wasn’t wearing his armor.

Already the guards were starting to close the grate, she must be quick.

“Oh, Jaston. I must tell you one thing…” She twisted around in his arms and waited for his head to lower toward her. Then she slammed her knee into his groin with all the force she could muster. “Go to the demons.”

His arms fell from her and he doubled-over in pain with a muffled cry.

Free of his hold, she launched herself forward, racing for the pit before the grate was lowered. She threw herself forward. Her skirt caught on the door’s iron spikes, yet she slid through the opening and into the darkness beyond.

Hold on, Emmi. I’m coming.

Isabelle slid down angled stone into the heart of darkness beneath the Chastry.

Arms outstretched, elbows and knees scraping along the chute, she gasped when the stone suddenly vanished. Thrown into the air, she didn’t have time to scream before she crashed into the ground. The impact drove the air from her lungs, though what felt like a pile of dried leaves broke her fall.

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