Page 28 of My Monster's Keeper
Stix’s fingers brush over my lower back, and I have to force myself to keep moving.
“Nothing. Nothing. I swear.”
“Bullshit!” Wilder snaps. “I can smell the lies in the air around him. The stench is as bitter as his piss.”
The man wails again, but Stix shakes him so hard his teeth rattle.
“I took their stuff!” He finally blurts out. “I took their money, pawned their belongings.”
I scoff in disgust. “It would have been a pittance.”
“But at least I got to live, and I had a little extra to keep me going.”
“Going?” Stix asks me.
“Drugs, he was buying drugs with the stolen belongings,” I say in disgust.
Stix rattles the human so hard his neck starts to look like it’s made of rubber.
“I couldn’t get free of that thing. I tried. He owned me. He bought and paid for me.” His eyes narrow to slits. “You’re the rookie cop, aren’t you? I remember seeing your face. You’re bought and paid for, too.”
I stand up straight. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not a thing, and I’m not for sale.”
He jerks away from Stix and backs away from us. “I ain’t going to jail. No way. I’ve seen what lives in those cages. There’s no fucking way.”
“Hey, hey, what’s your name? Calm down,” Wilder says in his most soothing voice. I think the guy sees a saviour in Wilder. Who am I to disillusion him?
“Dale, Dale Esmess.” He sobs and wipes his sleeve across his nose, spreading snot over his face. “I can’t go there. I’ve seen what I’ve seen, and I don’t want to see it. Please, I wish I never saw it, man. I don’t want to be monster bait.”
I frown as Dale’s speech gets louder and louder until he’s hysterically sobbing. He reaches into his pocket.
I cry out, but it’s too late. He swipes the box cutter across his neck, sending a spray of blood further than I could ever have guessed. It pumps a few times, and then the spray slows. His body is on the floor already, but I don’t know how it got there.
“Puppy!” Wilder calls.
I whirl on him, but he holds his hands up and shrugs.
“We can’t leave this here. Evidence of our passing and presence would be easily found.”
I’m reluctant but eventually nod. “Fine, but I’m not happy with the eating.”
“We know,” Frost says and reaches out to brush his thumb across my bottom lip. My heart slams against my ribs. Conflicting feelings of fear and yearning hit me. He smiles, and I lose track of where the fuck I am. “You look good with blood on your lips.”
The words stump me for a second, and then I realise what he means. I swipe at my lips and taste the metallic taste of Dale. I retch, and once I start, it’s hard to stop. When I look up, feeling weak and minus the contents of my stomach, I find Puppy and Stix staring at me curiously.
I stumble away from the mess I’ve made and then watch in horror as Puppy in his dragon form scurries over and sniffs. He morphs back into his human state and circles around the puddle.
“Another distasteful defense,” he murmurs. “The eating may yet prove tricky.”
I’m getting seriously worried about that one. Just watching him makes me nervous because when he does look at me, which he does often, he stares with an unblinking gaze. And he keeps talking about eating me.
That is not cool.
I walk around, taking note of the rubbish, drug paraphernalia, and alcohol bottles. Stix stays by my side. I follow the flow of the corridors and push open a door at the back of the building. I look at the floor and focus on something peculiar.
There are shoes on the floor. I crouch and pick one up and then start counting all the different pairs. There are forty.
I let out a low growl and stand up, dusting my hands on my jeans. “Forty victims, perhaps more.”
