by Eden Beck
We’ve only been back for a day, and already, I can tell something’s changed between us.
I should never have let that boy into my pants.
“This will be an individual project,” Professor Jaxton tells us as soon as we’re all settled in, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “You will be assigned a creature, and you must take care of it for the semester.”
I perk up. This may be difficult—I’ve already got Cleaver to take care of now—but I’m excited anyway.
This is one of the only hands-on monster experiences we get during our first year at Saint M. I’m lucky that I already got to hunt the al, but it’s been ages, and I’m restless. It might not be hunting, but it’s still monsters.
“I’m handing out your assignments,” the professor continues as he passes out papers. “No two people have the same species of creature. All of these creatures have the potential to be vicious and dangerous, so you need to take this seriously.”
I grab my paper excitedly, my eyes scanning the page anxiously to see what I’ve been assigned. My creature is a kelpie named Aurora, located in chamber W2.
From what I’ve learned about kelpie, they’re not so different that the baekhest that Piers and I studied last semester. That little reminder makes the pit in my stomach grow deeper. So far, the boys are just ignoring me. They haven’t started actively torturing me again yet, but I know it’s just a matter of time.
It’s sad. I’d really started to like them.
More than like them, if my little tryst with Sawyer is any indicator. I’m supposed to be focusing on hunting monsters, not men … but I can’t help the wandering thoughts that wonder what it would be like if one of them—Piers, Owen, or Bennett—was in my bed instead.
The professor has continued talking over my horny inner monologue.
“All creatures must remain here in the Menagerie at all times. We simply cannot abide monsters running loose in the school.” The professor finishes handing things out. “There are basic instructions for the creature’s care on your paper. Go and find your chambers.”
I turn to Erin. “What did you get? I got a kelpie. I’m headed to W2.”
“Mine is an ahool,” she replies. “A giant bat. I’m supposed to be in … C3.”
“Damn,” I sigh. I was hoping to be near Erin for this project, but she heads off to the C-chambers, and I walk down a different hallway to the W-chambers with a few other students. I notice Piers following, but he isn’t following me. He heads into his own chamber two doors down.
The door to W2 leads me into a narrow hallway, which widens inside into an indoor habitat. It’s one of the largest rooms I’ve seen in the menagerie.
The ground is covered in grass, and there’s a small man-made lake. Part of the grass dips down and a glass wall has been installed so I can peer into the murky water on the other side.
Today, however, there’s no need to watch down below. The kelpie is already out of the water, watching me from a rock jutting from the center of the lake. It’s very strange-looking. Its upper body is that of a horse, but its lower body melds into a fish’s tail. Its face is long, almost reptilian, and the hair of its mane looks more like seaweed than it does hair.
“Hey there, Aurora,” I call to her, trying to keep the tone of my voice soothing and friendly. She gazes at me with a blank stare. I pull some bacon out of my pocket that I’d been saving for Cleaver and approach the shore of the lake. Aurora the kelpie watches me suspiciously as I set it on the shore and then retreat.
I sit on the grass until class is over. Aurora watches me until I get up to leave, never once making a move to either attack or befriend me. It may be slow going with her, but I don’t mind. I know what it’s like to not want to trust anyone.
Chapter Nineteen
Every day for weeks, I drop some food at the shore for Aurora and then sit and wait. Each day, she gets a little closer to the shore, watching me from a distance while I wait for her. Until finally, one day, she’s at the shore when I come in, her front hooves on dry ground, her tail still in the water.
I approach cautiously. She’s small, so she’s not fully-grown. Her head only reaches to my chest. I place the food on the ground in front of her and take a step back.
Still watching me, she lowers her head to eat it.
“Good girl,” I say soothingly.
A week later, she’s eating out of my gloved hands and letting me stroke her.
I can finally get to the other bits of taking care of her—brushing her tangled mane of slimy seaweed, cleaning the scales on her tail, and scraping the barnacles that try to cling to her front hooves.
She likes me now. She nibbles affectionately at my clothes and noses into my pockets for treats. I bring Cleaver in one day when our professor is occupied with another monster problem, and they play together.
Cleaver leaps into the lake and swims around, and Aurora swims protective circles around him. When I put food on the shore they eat together. I even bring a swimsuit and get into the cool water. Aurora lets me ride on her back, shooting through the water at dizzying speeds. It feels like I’m riding a living jet-ski.
She noses at my cuts and bruises from the fresh torture that is PW. Piers, Owen, and Bennett have picked up where they left off, but with a vengeance. Every day I’m pushed, shoved, sometimes locked in classrooms. I’ve gotten really good at hiding injuries and shoving my way out of doors that have heavy objects pushed in front of them.
But the worst comes in late January.
I’ve done my best to avoid them outside of PW, but they aren’t the only ones acting weird. Sawyer has been both possessive and reclusive. It’s been hard to get him to hang out the way we once did, and when he does come out of his room to spend time with Erin and I, he’s always sitting too close to me and asking weird questions about Piers and the other boys.
It’s gotten to the point that I’ve started avoiding him, too.
One morning, I slip on my gloves and wrinkle my nose. There’s a weird, funky smell coming off them. If Erin, Sawyer, and I weren’t already late to class thanks to another one of Sawyers weird interrogation sessions over lunch, I’d stop and go look for another pair. It started out alright. For a minute, when Sawyer sat down to join us for the first time in weeks, I thought everything was finally back to normal.
But then he started asking about Piers again, and it got weird fast. He was asking about all the time we spent in the library, and from the way he kept going on about the privacy curtains in those study rooms, I’m pretty sure he thinks we were screwing behind his back the whole time.
Jealousy is not a good look on him. Little does he know, if he’s just acted normal when he got back, we might still be able to … erm … be together. Just not together. It’s complicated, but I do have feelings for Sawyer. I just haven’t had much time to explore them what with school, the torturing starting back up again, and his sudden weirdness.
“I should wash these,” I mutter, stepping into Aurora’s chamber in the Menagerie. She’s splashing excitedly near the shore when I enter.
“Hey, girl!” I say happily, and she whinnies back. “It’s scale-cleaning time again.” I gather the usual supplies for cleaning Aurora’s tail. As I approach, though, something’s wrong. She’s flaring her nostrils and jerking her head back. I set the bucket down. “Aurora? What’s up?”
She whinnies, shaking her head. Water droplets fly from her mane. I reach for her, hoping to pet her and calm her down.
“It’s me,” I say, still trying to be soothing.
She rears back from my hand—and clamps down on it. Pain sears through my palm as her fangs break through the material of my gloves and into my flesh. She jerks her head back again, tearing the glove off my hand and taking some of my skin with it.
I scream in pain and stumble back onto the grass. My hand throbs. Blood is running down my palm in rivulets. I throw off my other glove and lay on my side, clutching my hand to my stomach. Tears leak from my eyes. The pain is inte
nse; worse than anything I’ve felt before.
I feel a nudge on my back. Aurora is looking at me with concern. Behind her are the shreds of my glove.
Even from here, they still reek. I knew I should have cleaned them first.
“It was the smell, wasn’t it?” I ask her.
She leans down and begins gently licking at my hand. I peer over my shoulder at her. She’s dragged her fishlike tail out of the water to groom me. For the first time, maybe ever, she’s completely on the shore. I roll over on my back. She keeps licking my hand.
Kelpie’s aren’t exactly venomous, but they have wicked bacteria in their mouths. I know if I don’t treat this cut—and soon—it’ll likely become infected. If anyone finds out it was her, she’ll be put down for sure. We’re monster hunters, after all, and we don’t abide vicious monsters where we live.
I stare at Aurora’s sad eyes as she apologetically licks my hand, and I know I can’t let that happen to her. This was an accident. It wasn’t her fault.
As much as I want to hide the injury, I do have to tell someone. I can’t bandage it on my own.
I slip out of class early, before anyone can spot me, and take the long way back to the dorms so I don’t run into anyone who might try to look at me too closely. I barely make it to the dorm before I hear the rush of footsteps in the hall, signaling the last of classes just got out.
I’m light-headed and woozy. It must have taken me longer to get here than I thought, and there’s a lot more blood in the towel than I expected when I unwrap my hand to give it a good look.
At that exact moment, Erin bursts into the room with a huge grin on her face. She’s just started to say something about how her giant bat just preened her for the first time when she cuts herself off with a shriek.
“Avery, your hand!” Erin gasps, and lurches towards me.
“Not so loud,” I say, my head still throbbing. “Where’s the first-aid kit?”
Erin rushes to grab it, and I collapse on my bed. Any time I flex my fingers, the bleeding starts again. Luckily, it’s my left hand, so my dominant hand is still fine.
Cleaver hops up on the bed next to me and settles down, laying his axe-like head on my chest. I’m glad I didn’t bring him today. He might’ve attacked Aurora or drawn others with his inevitable howls.
Erin rushes over with her extensive first-aid kit and gently takes my wrist, looking at my hand. It’s got a jagged bite mark in the shape of Aurora’s teeth, the edges of which are turning purple and bruising. The gash in my palm starts to bleed again as Erin manipulates it.
“Avery, you might have to go to the infirmary for this. I don’t know how much I can help.”
“I can’t,” I moan. “They’ll put her down.”
“I thought this looked like a bite,” she says softly. “Aurora bit you, huh?”
I nod. Erin puts some antiseptic on the gash, and I hiss in pain and squeeze my eyes shut. Cleaver whimpers and nuzzles me.
“I’m fine, boy,” I say, using my other hand to scratch his ears.
“You’ve been doing so well with her. What happened?”
“There was something on my glove. Smelled weird. Freaked her out.” I wince as Erin cleans my wound. When I open one eye to peek over at her, she’s wearing a dark expression.
“I saw Piers with a spray bottle,” she mutters. “This afternoon, before creature handling.”
“Do you think it was him?” I ask. “Did he spray it on anything? Did you see?”
She shakes her head. “My ahool is in the C-chambers.”
“Piers’ creature is in W4,” I mutter. “He knows I’m in W2.”
“Asshole.” Erin shakes her head. “I’ve done the best I can.”
I haven’t been paying attention. I should have been watching him like a hawk instead of avoiding him. All this could have been avoided if I was just paying better attention.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I still don’t know how he knew I was running late this morning.
She’s wrapped my hand in bandages. “I’ll have to hide this somehow.”
“You should rest for now.” She packs her supplies back into her kit. “I still think you should go to the infirmary.”
“I can’t let them put Aurora down. Plus, I’ll lose points and time.” Just because I’m ahead doesn’t mean I can’t fall behind. I need to be more vigilant than ever.
Erin sighs. “Get some rest, then.”
The next morning, I grab some gloves and cut the fingers off. They hide my bandages nicely, but my hand still hurts, and if I move my fingers too much, the gash breaks open and blood starts leaking through the bandages again.
“You can’t function like that,” Erin says as I hurriedly re-do my bandages a second time. “You have to go to the infirmary.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just try not to use it.”
She looks at me doubtfully but doesn’t protest further.
Piers immediately notices my new fingerless-glove look, and grins when he sees me in PW. “What’s up with the gloves, Black?” he shouts at me. People turn to look.
“Gives me better grip,” I say dismissively, but he turns to Owen and Bennett and nudges them. He knows.
Going through training is hell. I have to keep my left hand almost immobile, which is almost impossible. I get a few weird looks when I fall behind, but I claim to be working on some single-handed strength exercises. I’m easily the worst scorer in the class this morning, even behind Erin, thanks to this little stunt.
When Professor Davies asks for a volunteer to demonstrate proper technique, Piers shoves me forward, and Davies takes my shuffle for balance as consent. I’m forced to spar with her in front of everyone. Needless to say, she defeats me soundly.
After class, my hand is searing with pain. I stay in the dorm and Erin brings me lunch from the dining hall.
“If you say infirmary one more time, I’m throwing a dagger at you,” I growl when she opens her mouth.
“You might throw a dagger at me anyway,” she says, stepping to the side. I see why.
Sawyer stands behind her.
“Avery,” he says, his eyes wide with fear. He pushes past Erin and over to me. I don’t have time to hide my hand—which he picks up gingerly, his face whitening at the sight of my blood.
“Sawyer, if you tell anyone—”
He cuts me off. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have been here for you.”
I know from the way he’s looking at me, that he doesn’t just mean after the bite. I shift over on my bed to make space for him to sit beside me. He wraps one arm over my shoulder while Erin starts redressing the wound.
It hurts just a little bit less with him by my side.
I wish I could say that the wound heals quickly, and that by the time the weekend rolls around I’m as good as new. But I’m not. And it doesn’t.
With each progressive day, the wound barely changes. It’s not bleeding so much now, but there’s a discoloration to the skin that makes me nervous.
“So, your parents thought they were being watched?” Erin asks.
I nod. It’s Saturday. This week has been hell. We’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, and she’s changing my bandages. Again. Sawyer sits next to me, trying to pet Cleaver, who still seems unsure about him.
“And my mom wanted Helsing’s help.”
Erin pauses and glances at me. “But he didn’t come?”
I shrug. “I don’t know—she never says in her journal. She might never have gotten the chance to ask him. They wanted out of the monster hunting business. Because of me.”
She looks back at her work. Her movements are a little slower.
“I just don’t get it,” I say. “Helsing claims he didn’t know anything about it.” I shake my head. “But so does Mason Dagher. I don’t know who to trust.”
Erin yanks on my bandage a little too hard. “I think I’d trust Professor Helsing over a Dagher any day.”
“Speaking of trusting Daghers,” S
awyer says, “Have you been back to see the kelpie after it bit you?”
“Yeah. She was fine immediately after,” I tell him. “Piers must have sprayed something on my glove and it made her freak out. It wasn’t her fault.”
“Besides the family cabin stuff, did you guys have fun on Christmas break?” Erin asks brightly, trying to change the subject.
Sawyer and I glance at each other. “Yeah,” he says awkwardly. He turns away and starts feeding Cleaver some of his snacks. All this time later, and I still never told Erin everything we got up to over break. We might be close … but I pride myself in being a private person. Why tell her something she doesn’t absolutely need to know?
Especially if I’ve sort of regretted that thing ever since.
“I mean, we met Cleaver, after all,” I say, cheerfully. At the very least, one good thing did definitely come from that trip. I take a second to reach down and scratch the hound behind the ears.
Erin finishes off my bandages, and I put my hand in my lap, trying not to move it too much.
“Who do you think was following your parents?” she asks, packing up her things.
“I’m not sure.” I frown. “I mean, Helsing says Mason Dagher was involved somehow. I know he denies it, but if what Helsing says is true … it could have been Mason.”
“Mason Dagher?” Sawyer asks, raising his eyebrows. “Why would he creep on your parents?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He didn’t want to answer anything about that night when I asked.”
“Seems cagey,” Erin sniffs.
“Well, you are just a random student asking questions,” Sawyer says reasonably. I hate when he’s being reasonable.
“No, she’s not!” Erin snaps at him. “She’s asking the man who last saw her parents alive what happened the night they died! She has a right to know!”
