An Embarrassment of Monsters: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 3)

by MariaLisa deMora

  An EMBARRASSMENT OF MONSTERS

  Alace Sweets, #3

  MariaLisa deMora

  Edited by Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading by Whiskey Jack Editing

  Copyright © 2020 MariaLisa deMora

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  First Published 2020

  ISBN 13: 978-1-946738-61-5

  DEDICATION

  Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table.

  ~W.H. Auden

  For all those who work to right wrongs, large and small. The world is a better place with you in it.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Given what’s going on in the world right now, it feels strange to be doing something as normal as writing acknowledgments for a new book. The coronavirus and Covid19 has changed the landscape of our lives forever, in ways we still have not identified. I kinda want the book world to be my place away from the madness, but I also kinda wanna acknowledge the challenges.

  This book didn’t pour out of me, as some do. Owen, who you’ll find occupies as vocal a role in this book as he did the previous one, was persnickity about when he’d be available to talk. Alace was all about the changes in her life, and I filled in the bones of her scenes fairly easily. But, Owen was looking for his inspiration in outside sources, I guess, while Alace had hers within herself.

  We got all the words down in the end, and I’m proud of the way both characters chose to express the driving need they share to protect those who are vulnerable. Owen drove me to do more research into a greater variety of things than in the past, and as so many authors are, I’m sure that I’ve hit watchlist status. I should apologize to whoever is assigned to track me. I promise it’s research!

  Many thanks to Becky and her crew at Hot Tree Editing. As always they treated my work with the utmost respect, helping me move the story forward in many ways. Thanks, too, for the assistance from Mel with Whiskey Jack Editing. You never fail to inspire me to dig a little deeper to find the true emotions behind the actions. Mega thanks to the techies who listened to my multitude of questions out on the Reddit subboards, and my investigative sources who provided guidance regarding technology referenced in the book. Any errors are all on me.

  A special shoutout to my early reader Kori, whose feedback and enthusiasm for the story gave me the courage to continue. Without that encouragement, you might not be holding this story now. #FansToFriends is the truth between us.

  And now, I give you more Alace. As Owen says, “She’s scary as fuck, and it’s entirely earned. Don’t show fear, don’t give her your back, and believe everything she tells you.” He’s just the same, and they are gonna trip all your triggers.

  Woofully yours,

  ~ML

  An Embarrassment of Monsters

  Owen Marcus has been damaged in the most magnificent ways.

  When a naked, beaten boy stumbles into his campground in the Pine Barrens, Owen doesn’t stop to think. His instincts are to comfort and protect, and he does—then the boy mentions a name, tells a story, and asks for his help. In an instant, Owen is granted a mission he can’t turn down: save the boy’s sister, shut down a child trafficker, yet somehow manage to bar his heart from being broken yet again.

  Recent events conspire to throw Owen back into the devastating mindset he occupied years ago, when he returned home from a covert mission to find his only daughter the target of killers. The rage and grief he felt over her abduction, torture, and murder have transformed the man he was into the skilled and ruthless hunter he's become. The sense of helplessness any parent would feel was exacerbated by his overwhelming guilt. “If only” haunted his every breath, and he’d been on a self-destructive path until he’d found a more viable outlet: seeking out those who prey on the most innocent of victims and delivering justice. Now he works as a team alongside one of the most talented retributionists in the business—Alace Sweets.

  In the midst of evil among us, Owen knows he and Alace are counted as monsters. But it is here he hopes to be redeemed.

  Prologue

  Kelly stumbled to his feet, head swinging wildly back and forth as he took in the scenery around him.

  Where am I?

  He didn’t have an answer to that question. He knew it was important, but nothing he could see was even vaguely familiar. The darkness surrounding him was quiet, shot through here and there by moonbeams that failed to illuminate much more than the pine boughs through which they filtered.

  He was naked, but nudity had become such a natural state it wasn’t worth the brain cells needed to truly catalog it. He was also aching all over, and one of his eyes wouldn’t work right. The tissue was sore to the touch, enough to make his eyes water when he pressed a fingertip against the damaged flesh. A rigid stiffness in his muscles informed him that he’d likely been lying on the forest floor for a while. An image flashed through his head of a white trash bag caught on a bush or fence. Shaking his head, he pushed past the fear and pain, trying to stay focused on what was most critical.

  Gotta save Shiloh.

  He could hear no noises, not even a hoot from an owl to break the stillness. The stark lack of sound raised the hairs on his arms.

  He turned in a slow circle, unsure of what direction to go but struck with the knowledge that he couldn’t stay here. Wherever “here” was.

  There.

  Something flickered in the distance, small and close to the ground, hidden now and again as the wind gusted. It was a tiny blue flame that drew him in. As he got closer, he saw it was a camp stove, similar to one he’d seen used on a long-ago camping trip.

  He was closer yet when he saw how light reflected on the face of the man seated on the other side. Even without speaking or calling out, he knew the man was watching him, had seen him, probably since he’d taken the first step.

  “Please.” Kelly stumbled, toes tangling on a root that threatened to take his legs out from under him. He stayed on his feet with effort, groaning aloud at how the pain in his head swelled with the movement.

  “Hey. What’s going on?” The voice was quiet and low, probably meant to be calming. But threaded through the sound, Kelly heard the tension of alarm, not out of place from a man startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger at his campsite.

  Unconcerned with his own nakedness or injuries, uncaring that the man towered over him when he stood, unflinching as the man’s gaze cataloged each of Kelly’s many injuries, Kelly stood and trembled with fear for Shiloh.

  “Mister.” His voice wavered, and that was another thing Kelly couldn’t muster any unease for—he had to pu
sh through. Shiloh is the only thing that matters now. “You gotta help me.” Kelly stumbled again, and the man reached out for him, fingers wrapping around Kelly’s arm to guide him past the tiny flame that had stood as a beacon in the night. Warmth surrounded him, a softer comfort than he could ever remember experiencing. “You gotta save my sister.”

  Chapter One

  Alace

  “I don’t like this.” She tipped her head backwards, hanging it over the top edge of the chair as she stretched out her muscles. “It feels alien.”

  “It’s natural as life, beloved.” Eric’s tone was amused, and Alace lifted a hand to flip him off. He chuckled, and then the heat of his hands settled on her stomach, the baby beachball protruding from her body cradled between his palms. “Braxton-Hicks contractions are the body’s way of getting ready for the main event.”

  “I’m not doing anything, just working away, and then suddenly my body decides to take over. I don’t like this.” She raised her head and glared down at Eric as he pressed a kiss to her belly. He wasn’t even attempting to stifle his chuckles. “You’re breathing funny. Stop it.”

  “Alace, it’s going to be okay.”

  “You don’t know that. You can’t know how it’s going to be. I’ve read that the alien contractions can go on for months.” The authority websites she’d looked up had been scary when they got into the topic. She’d found that militant mommies posting their stories online didn’t make for the most restful reading material. “I don’t want that.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you only have weeks, not months to go.” He kissed her belly again, fingers stroking along either side, traveling down, then up, leaving calmness and relaxed muscles in their wake. “Let me get my coat off and I’ll rub your feet and legs.”

  “My ankles are swollen again, aren’t they?” Alace threatened to lift her feet into Eric’s crotch as he crouched in front of her, but he grinned and intercepted them in mid-swing. “I can’t even see them unless I contort like a…like a…contortionist. My brain stopped working today too, apparently. I can’t think of a better word than that.”

  “Pregnancy brain. Hormones are a real thing.” He nodded and stood, shrugging out of his suitcoat to reveal the width of his shoulders. Her mouth grew dry as his hands deftly rolled up his sleeves to show off sinewy forearms. The juxtaposition of bare skin against fabric and a span of chest and stomach she suddenly wanted access to were a combination she couldn’t resist. Won’t even try.

  “Take off the shirt, too.”

  He laughed and complied with her demand, turned towards the dresser in their bedroom, and draped the shirt there while he hung the coat over the doorknob. This uncovered the spread of skin and toned muscles that made up his broad back.

  “I wanna make love.”

  He’d gotten used to her abrupt and blunt requests over the past few months, but the darkening hunger in his eyes when he turned back to her left Alace breathless. “My baby need me?”

  “Yes.” She scooted her butt to the front of the chair, then used the arms to lever herself into a sitting position. Feet flat on the floor, she pushed with legs and arms until she was upright. Standing on the toes of her socks, she removed them one at a time, then shoved her stretchy maternity pants down her legs, taking panties along with them. “Yes, I do.”

  An hour later, they were lounging together in bed, Alace wrapped around Eric as much as she could manage with the beachball belly in the way. He’d rucked up her shirt and had a hand on her hip, fingers drawing mindless figures against her skin. In the past week, her breasts had begun leaking during sex, and she didn’t like how it felt, so she’d kept on the shirt and nursing bra, complete with pads. No matter how she came to their bed, Eric simply rolled with it, never asking for more than she was willing to give.

  “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you had a normal wife?”

  Shit.

  She stilled, hoping he’d ignore her question. Wrong thing to say, idiot. When he shifted and placed a folded knuckle underneath her chin to lift her face, she knew she was out of luck.

  “Define normal. I can’t make an assessment unless I know we’re speaking about the same traits and behaviors.”

  Alace rolled her eyes. There he goes, gettin’ all lawyerly on me.

  “No, Alace. You can’t make a statement like that and then expect I won’t want to dig into it at least a little.”

  “Just, you know. Normal. Like, in the head and stuff.” His lips made a tiny moue she wanted to kiss, but she closed her eyes instead. “Someone you can be proud of and stuff. You know what?” She shook her head but was careful not to dislodge the pressure he held against her chin. “Never mind. Pregnancy brain, like you said.”

  “My wife is perfect for me.” The hand that had been teasing the skin of her hip flattened and slipped down the curve of her ass, gripping and pulling her tight against his side. “She’s randy in bed, which I like a lot. She fits against me as if she were made for me. She’s intelligent with a healthy dose of common sense, so we are able to have active dialogues about things that interest us. She praises my culinary skills, even if we both know my cooking is mediocre. She’s invested in her career, but not to the detriment of my own. She loves my mother. And she does so much good in the world that people will never know. Frankly, that’s because she doesn’t look for fame or praise. She merely does what’s right.” He brushed his nose against hers, and Alace opened her eyes to see him staring at her. “She’s a little bit like a superhero, but without the cape. So in my mind, while she may not be normal by some of society’s standards, she’s perfect for me. She’s also pregnant with our child, which means she gets a pass on some self-doubt things she normally wouldn’t be dealing with.” After pressing a soft kiss to her lips, he pulled back and grinned. “I rest my case.”

  “I love you.” As happened every time she uttered those words in his presence, the effect on Eric was immediate. His arm tightened around her, his hand gripped more firmly, the skin and muscles of his face softened, and the desire for her burned in his eyes once again. “So, so much. I can’t even say.”

  “Beloved,” he said, as if that single word—that fucking, fucking word—meant everything. It does.

  Her phone chimed, the three-note ascending tone designed to get her attention. Eric didn’t say anything as he pulled her closer, his arm extending across to retrieve the phone from the nightstand. Without looking at the screen, he handed the device to her then reached the other direction, picking up the TV remote and pointing it at the screen mounted on the wall. Something she’d given in to when she’d wanted another monitor for her computer, acknowledging to Eric it did provide the best of both worlds. Since her office was in their bedroom for the duration of the pregnancy, they’d spent an inordinate amount of time in this room. He kept the volume low, and she pressed her lips to his chest in silent thanks.

  One glance at her phone’s screen had her struggling to sit, a feat only successfully accomplished with Eric’s assistance. Then she was stuck leaning backwards on both arms, unable to sit fully upright as she normally would, all efforts foiled by the bulge of the baby.

  Legs splayed wide in front of her for balance, Alace groaned when she fruitlessly tried to shift one. “I gotta…” She panted, shortness of breath caused by the—I guessed it—huge beachball bulge of the baby. “Feet…floor…chair.” Eric sat up, and she hated him in that instant. Not the man, but his ability to move around as he desired without issue. He moved to stand in front of her. “You’re a weird-breathing asshole who put this baby in me.”

  “I love you, too,” he shot back as he helped her maneuver to the edge of the bed. Then he lifted, and she marveled at how—by dint of his strength—her ass rose smoothly from the mattress until she was finally upright. At which point, Eric had to take a step backwards and bend from the waist, because her—there’s a theme here, really—belly was in the way. “You steady, baby?”

  “Fuck you. Yes. I’m good.” The
n she stumbled over something on the floor, and he gripped her upper arms a moment longer, ensuring she remained on her feet. “Dammit. I can’t see the floor. Was that my shoe? Move it, whatever it was.”

  He smiled. “I’m confident you’ll find all of this humorous in about a month.” Then he crouched, and she silently fumed because he could still conduct that maneuver at all, much less without being out of breath. “Floor is clear.” He stood and leaned in to brush a kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

  She bit her lip, holding the return sentiment inside until she couldn’t anymore, and burst out laughing as she reassured him, “I luv you moar.”

  “Still love drunk.” He kissed her temple as he turned her, walking next to her on the way to the chair in front of the desk. “Will you be long, beloved?”

  “Not sure.” All joking set aside, real and pretend, she remembered the message she’d seen on the phone. “Owen texted.”

  “He’s on hiatus, I thought.” Eric pushed her chair towards the desk, keeping her from the exertion.

  “Was. Not sure what this means, but he invoked a high alert phrase.” Which was what had me scrambling at the speed of pregnant lady. She unlocked the drawer to the left of where she sat and waited for Eric to retrieve the laptop and battery from inside. As he reassembled the computer, she smiled. “You’re a super sweet guy, Eric Ward. You’re gonna be a great daddy.”

  “I hope so.” He finished and set the device on the desktop. “Want the monitors connected?”

  “Not yet. I’ll see what’s shakin’ first.” Face angled up, she scarcely had to wait before Eric complied and swooped in for a firm, closed-mouth kiss. “Thank you.”

  “Always my pleasure, baby.” He pressed his lips to hers again. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

  True to his word, he put a knee to the mattress and crawled back up the bed, shoving a pillow behind his shoulders as he settled himself against the headboard. He flashed her a smile, then focused his attention on the TV screen. Alace watched him a moment longer, then turned to the computer in front of her.