Page 77 of Marked By Feral Monsters
"It was no accident."
"He doesn't mean to be so violent. Please, he just… he gets scared when he thinks I'll get taken away, or might leave him."
This is all my fault. I never should have taken Nix home. I never should have been so careless.
Nix grips Eric tighter, the cracked mirrors distorting the bird-man's reflection, making him appear even more ghastly. Finally, Nix turns to me. His eyes are fire, searing into me.
But then he softens when he takes in the tears streaming down my cheeks. He glances down at my summery pajamas, a loose-fitting tank top and shorts. Water from the rain drips down my forehead, making a mess of my loosely knotted bun.
The way he looks me over slowly, eyes raking over my body, burning into me… it stirs something deep inside me.
Nope, I can't do this.
Not now, not ever. Notagain.
Not him, not a monster. Not a ghostanda monster, I can't be this fucking unlucky.
I take a step away from them and close the door. The entryway is soaking wet, full of mud.
"What happened?" I ask him. Without thinking, I reach out and wipe my hand over his cheek, clearing some of the dirt away. It's useless. He's filthy. But it makes him pull away from Eric.
"Your wraith dug a deep grave. It took a little while to get myself out."
"I don't understand. He thought he'd killed you."
"He tried. Many have tried."
"Are you a ghost?" I ask.
Nix barks a laugh. "I'm no fucking ghost. What do I look like to you?" He turns, finally releasing Eric. A cool presence slips behind me, and I can't help it, my mind flashes to that fantasy of my cold and hot lovers taking me together.
No, I remind myself. No new monster lovers.
But I can't help it; I feel them both, Nix a blazing inferno standing in front of me, his tall frame and expansive wings shrouding me. Eric feels small, but strong and steady at my back. This wasn't the exact scenario I had in mind, but then again, nothing in the last four years has gone the way I'd imagined.
"Look at me," Nix demands. I do. I can't look away, but his features, which have slowly transformed since he pushed his way into the house, are more human now. Though his nose is still hooked, eyes deep and gold, feathers still push out of the tears in his clothes.
"Am I losing my mind?" I ask, feeling faintly dizzy.
"Say it," he snarls, but I shake my head, pressing my lips together. "Come on, lover. Just a guess."
I can't. The shaking takes over my whole body, shivers wracking through my skin to my marrow, from the cold wet rain, from Eric, poised at my back, from this… impossibility. It's too much. This is all too much.
"Immortality," he growls, voice deep and raspy. He takes a step forward, heat wafting off of him. He smells like a campfire and singed earth, acrid and smoky.
"Regeneration." Another step. "Reborn from the ashes…" Another step, so close, his heat sears my chest. Something tightens in my lower abdomen. It coils, curling into me, hot and tight.
Then, a whisper. "Tell me. What am I?"
It's too strange. But I say the only thing that comes to mind, though I know it's not right. "The feathers… you're a bird?"
"I am no bird. I'm no ghost. I am Phoenix, and I rise from the ashes."
My stomach drops. He's not real. He can't be. None of this is real.
I rarely leave the house. Maybe I didn't go out to dinner a few nights ago. Or I did and had an accident on the way home. Natural disaster? Chemical spill?
Car crash?
