Page 13 of My Monster's Keeper
Cats belong in our world. They were the first to cross over and have lived here so long they don’t remember how things work. Here on Earth, they are the queens of trash and masters of their human puppets. They are clearly working some long game of domination of this planet by assimilating themselves into every human household. It is impressive, and I feel a kind of pride for them. But mostly disdain.
They need to back off because I’m here now.
I give the cat a low hiss, promising retribution, but it simply starts licking its paw in a display that threatens to send me wild.
I stalk away because I don’t need another lecture from Diablos. And I have much more interesting prey back on the road.
My future meal stares at me when I get back. I curl a lip, showing my teeth. She frowns, her whole body radiating her displeasure.
Diablos snaps his fingers, trying to get my attention, but I don’t listen to him. He thinks I do, but it just isn’t in my best interests to inform him yet. Slowly, I drag my attention to him.
“Do not eat Becky. We need her to teach you how to live here without scaring the humans.”
He waits, but I just stand stock still, staring at him. I see the shudder on his shoulders. Just a faint movement. It’s not a huge one but enough. He fears me. As he should.
Wilder moves towards her and lifts her up by her hair. To my surprise, she swings at him, hitting the Fae in his face. Gold blood drips from his lip, and he curses in his language before hurling her away.
She goes flying, only to be caught by the cold one. I press my lips together, disliking this form. The lost Fae princeling has much magic and lots of secrets. His cruelty is legendary, and my respect is tempered with caution.
I recognise a formidable predator. Wilder is as well, but he’s temperamental and easier to read.
“Okay, there will be no more of that!” Diablos thunders. “She is delicate, breakable. One hard whack, and her bones will impale her insides.”
I jerk my eyes to my prey and stare at her with raised eyebrows. Her bones will splinter and kill her? I consider the ramifications of trying to eat a meal with shattered bones. Isthis some suicidal safe guard against predators? Interesting, I might have to take my time and learn more about my meal.
My path finds me working my way until I’m beside Hartley, and I study him intently. His smells are musky, stale, and flavoured with that tube he set on fire and breathed. Ugh, I wrinkle my nose and step upwind. His fingers are larger than hers, hands broader. He has short hair that’s receding at the hairline. Hair grows out of his face. I can’t see any weaponry on his anatomy, no tail, no scales, no claws. How do these things live?
The girl in comparison is softer still, smaller, more compact. She has two soft, jiggly lumps of flesh on her chest. They look…biteable. Her ass is also plump and nibble worthy.
No wings.
No outer layer of skin or shells.
No antennae.
Just softness.
Ridiculous species. They are just walking around begging to be eaten.
Diablos looks at Hartley, and I can see that pathetic burn of emotion in his eyes. His weakness is this human. I snort and look away.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” The male meal asks.
I stalk past him again, getting a lungful of his scent. Nothing about him appeals except for the fact that it might get under Diablos’ skin. But she draws my eyes again as she circles with me, her eyes narrowed and body set like she’s ready to react to whatever move I might make.
“Yes. She needs to be dead and with them. It’s the only way I can hone them into something I can use.” Diablo huffs. “They’re hostile, hate each other almost as much as everyone else. They see humans as expendable or meals. These idiots do not understand technology or the way this world works. They need her.”
“And she needs them. The cops will come after her.”
My nostrils flare as I focus on the male meal’s face. What is a cop? Why does it want her? It’s not going to have her. If anyone is eating her, it’s me.
“Why is that thing’s eyes moving? It’s not an actual person, is it?” Her loud, angry tones are like candy. I creep closer but find my way blocked by the stick bug himself. He flattens his lips and crouches in front of me. For a moment, I eye him, consider throwing caution to the wind and having it out, but then I turn away.
Patience.
“No, it’s not a human. It’s a parasitic demon. It will stay like this, and when it’s found and leeches the emotions from the air around it, the body will reform into its natural state, and it will go away to wherever it wants to go play.”
She backs away. Interesting. I dart in quickly and nip at her hand. I get the sharpest hint of blood on my tongue, and then I’m gone.
