Page 38 of My Monster's Keeper
Nerves reach out and take hold of my nape, squeezing until goosebumps break out all over my skin.
He flicks a forbidding glare in my direction and then holds his hand over my knife. Blue fire engulfs it. I make a sound of protest and cut it short when I see the blade isn’t melting, but it’s freezing. Ice crystals form along the edges, and it begins to glow.
It only takes seconds, and then everything fades, like when you stare into the sun too long. My eyes adjust, and I can’t see it anymore.
The only proof that he’s tampered with my knife is a deep sapphire shimmer that runs over the wood of the handle. He hands it back, hesitating before letting go.
“Think about fire or ice when you use it,” he says.
He turns and walks away.
“Wait!” I call out when he gets to the doorway. The prince turns back, raising one perfectly white eyebrow. “Thank you.”
He inclines his head with this regal nod that makes my stomach flutter. “I would not have you die, human Becky. You have done us a great service in facilitating our assimilation into this world.”
“You didn’t have to do this, though,” I protest.
“I did. I do. Those comments have been directed at you. I don’t understand yet what is happening, but I would not have you step into my world defenseless.”
“We’re not in your world,” I say.
“Yet,” Frost says evenly. I quaver under his knowledgeable stare. “Good evening.”
I’m left alone holding the knife that is both warm and cold in my hand. Am I nervous about what Frost is saying? Yes. It’s disconcerting to hear these creatures I never knew existed talking of me and my future so casually.
Am I worried?
I haven’t thought about it long enough to decide either way. What I am concerned about isthat. I track the dark shadow on the roof as it makes its way down, creeping to the canvas bag and flicking its tongue along all the blades of my weapons.
He exhales with a shaky shudder and finally fixates the yellow eye on me. The black takes a moment longer, and then it, too, lands on me.
I’ll never let him see it, but every time Puppy looks at me, a frisson of fear slices through me, making my legs weak. I have an urge in my mind to run or fight, but I remain motionless, captivated by him. The sheen of his scales, the magnetic pulls of his gaze, the long thick tongue, his claws, and the easy way he moves.
He is alien and so very pretty.
Because as strong as the fear is, there is something else of equal power that isn’t fear at all.
As I think the word, it drags me out of my frozen state and allows time to move again. I let out a grunt when he moves sinuously, closing the distance between us.
“You will be my food,” he promises, his tongue flicking out across my face, pushing my lips open, then my teeth, and probing into my mouth.
I reach out, digging my nails into his shoulders, moving closer despite myself. The invasion, the forceful tasting of my mouth, leaves me feeling weak. Or is that a lack of air?
“PUPPY!”
He draws back, snarling, and scrambles for the wall as Stix barrels in. He catches me as I spin on my feet and helps me to my knees while peering up at the dark corner. As soon as I’m steady, Stix springs at the wall, and the shadows vanish.
They should still be there because that’s where shadows belong, but they aren’t there. Something fundamentally wrong with the lack of shadows. I creep backwards towards the door and spin, stalking through it. Wilder is loitering in the hallway. His eyes find me as I come out and track me as I stalk past him.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m…” I turn on my heel and peer up at him. “They stole the shadows that belong to the room. No, I’m not all right.”
Wilder nods his head. “The Shadow dimension has different laws than ours.”
Half of me wants to leave that statement the fuck alone, but the rest of me, the inquisitive, irritated, irrational side seizes it. “Shadow dimension?”
Wilder grunts and leads me into the kitchen. He rummages until he finds a packet of round biscuits. He pulls out one and places it on the table.
