by Janie Marie
Gods & Monsters
Janie Marie
Contents
Title
Book One of the Gods & Monsters trilogy
Prologue
1. Jane
2. Them
3. David
4. Monsters & Sweet Dreams
5. Bittersweet
6. Red
7. Not Coming Back
8. Heaven
9. Hunger
10. Truth & Legend
11. The Black-Eyed Monster
12. The Knights
13. True Monsters
14. Something Else
15. The Unseen
16. The Kiss Of Death
17. Never Forgetting
18. A Beast Inside
19. A Tragic Tale
20. Where Demons Hide
21. Sweet Jane
22. Death
23. Jane & Death
24. Bitter Knights
25. Hello, Sorrow
26. She’s Mine
27. Two Giants
28. Three
29. Awkward
30. Werewolf 101
31. Faces Of Jane
32. Love
33. Morning Glory
34. Violin
35. Knights & Penguins
36. Oblivion
37. Dagonet’s Tale
38. The Virgin Goddess
39. Mania
40. Explanations
41. His Moon
42. Jason vs Jane’s Immortals
43. Good Night
44. Gods & Monsters
The Gods & Monsters Trilogy
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Coming Soon
Thank you
Copyright © 2017 by Janie Marie
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Murphy Rae, www.murphyrae.net
Editing by Murphy Rae and KD Phillips, www.murphyrae.net
Proofreading by Emily Vaughan
A MAN WITH GLOWING EMERALD EYES watched two women across the bedroom as they talked quietly to one another. The pair had no idea they were being observed so carefully. In fact, they were unaware another was present at all.
It would stay that way, too. Unless, of course, the green-eyed man wished otherwise.
It appeared, though, he had no intention of letting the two friends know their conversation was no longer private. He leaned his muscular back against the wall opposite the bed one of the women lay on, crossed his arms, and listened while they carried on, oblivious to his presence.
After a few minutes of simply watching them, he gazed around the room. He showed no interest in the flowers, cards, and balloons displayed on the dresser and side tables, but when he came to picture frames and prescription bottles, he paused.
The medications seemed to be of no concern to him, but the pictures clearly interested him. There were various groups of people in each photo, but each one contained the woman who currently lay in bed. Only, she no longer resembled the young lady seen smiling in all the pictures. Cancer had a way of doing that.
He returned his attention to the woman but instead of observing her, all his focus shifted to the brunette seated in the chair. Her hand was shaking as she applied lip balm to her friend’s chapped lips.
He let out a breath and continued to study the brunette. She was no longer looking at her friend, though. She was staring right at him. If he allowed it, her hazel eyes would look into his.
“Jane?”
The brunette, Jane, blinked and looked back to her friend. “I’m sorry, Wendy. I thought I saw something.”
The corner of the male’s lips twitched, but he made no other outward reaction to her words.
“Thank you, again,” said Wendy.
Jane shook her head. “I already told you not to thank me.”
Wendy frowned. “But you’re still sad.”
Just weeks before, Jane had signed Wendy’s “Do Not Resuscitate” order because it required a non-family member witness. And the green-eyed man had seen it all.
He had witnessed the shock in her eyes when every head turned to Jane after Wendy asked her for the grim favor. Jane had been given no warning or time to think over what was asked of her. She had looked fragile, but when it seemed she would refuse, those hazel eyes that seemed to captivate the green-eyed man burned brightly with determination, and she agreed.
He glanced over at the unopened bible sitting beside the bed. It was still in the exact spot where Jane had left it three weeks ago.
“Are you mad at me?” is what Wendy had asked Jane that day.
The green-eyed man had stood silent and unseen by the pair as he listened to the exchange. Wendy had already resembled a talking corpse, and Jane’s anguish shone in her eyes every time she looked at her friend.
“I could never be mad at you,” Jane said. “I love you, always. This doesn’t change that. I’m just afraid that I won’t see you when I die. I don’t know if what they always say is true. About not going to Heaven if you don’t believe in God. I just want to know I’ll see you again.”
His expression didn’t reveal any sign of emotion, but his eyes followed the tear that slowly slid down her face. When it finally fell from her chin, he looked back to Wendy.
“It’s a nice idea. It would be wonderful to go to such a perfect place.” Wendy paused and watched Jane for a moment. “I just don’t think there’s anything after we die. It’s just what people say to make themselves feel better. At least, that’s how I see it.”
He watched as Jane seemed to sort through the comment before she looked up.
“What are you going to tell your boys?” Jane asked.
“They’re going to pick out a star with my mom. They’ll be able to look up at night and think it’s me. They’ll talk to me that way. I think it’ll help my mom, too.”
Jane smiled sadly. “You know we came from stardust—so it’s entirely expected that we would return to the stars when we die.”
“I’ve never heard that before,” Wendy said, looking almost lost in a daze. “Where did you hear that?”
“I heard it when I was little. I think my mom told me.”
Peaceful smiles formed on both women’s faces.
“I think it’s a beautiful way for them to be able to remember and talk to you,” Jane said quickly. “I think I’ll do the same—talk to you when the stars come out.”
Wendy looked at peace, and Jane had appeared happy for being able to accept her decision. Jane didn’t have to force her beliefs on her friend, she had given them both something to hold on to—a place for them after they left this world.
“Stardust,” Wendy had murmured. “I like that.”
Wendy took a turn for the worse after that day. Now, she barely stayed conscious, but every once in a while, she would wake and talk to whoever sat beside her. Most of her conversations made little sense because of the powerful medications she was given, but it did not seem to matter to those who still visited, they carried on with her as best they could.
The green-eyed man glanced up as a f
ew family members entered the room. They all greeted Wendy, and Jane sat up. She always left quickly whenever someone came to visit. It clearly hurt for her to go, but she did have her own children and husband to take care of.
Jane looked down at Wendy. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay?”
Wendy managed to nod and gestured for Jane to come closer. Jane briefly glanced around at the small group of visitors and then bent down.
“Blood,” Wendy whispered in a weak, raspy voice.
Everyone looked around, confused, including Jane.
“Blood?” Jane asked, and Wendy nodded. “What about blood?”
“Your blood.”
Jane frowned. “You want my blood?” Wendy nodded again, and this time, Jane smiled as she clarified. “Like a vampire?”
Wendy made a small biting motion with her teeth and Jane laughed softly. The others joined her laughter and even he smiled, knowing why they would bring this up. The girls loved vampires. Both were silly with their beliefs in fantasy and other magical beings. They had each led difficult lives, but they held an innocence that many did not possess.
“You want to drink my blood so you can become a vampire?” Jane asked, obviously amused, but the green-eyed man watched her eyes light up, as though she was actually wishing for something so magical.
Wendy nodded again and smiled as her eyes closed. Her medicine had apparently kicked in.
“That would be cool,” Jane muttered as she smoothed Wendy’s thinning hair back. “I’m going to go now. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As a red glow lit the space beside the green-eyed man, he sighed and addressed the new presence without looking away from Jane. “What is it?”
A new male, also invisible to those around them, looked at the scene in front of him before answering. “Our brother is missing. There is something amiss with Earth’s immortals as well.”
They both watched Jane lean over and kiss Wendy’s head. She moved back, holding her breath as she gave the others an awkward wave and quickly left the room.
The two unseen males turned toward each other. Brothers they may have been, but they looked nothing alike. While the green-eyed man had black hair that was spiked upward, tanned skin, and green eyes; his brother had long, fiery red hair, amber eyes, and golden skin.
“Who was the girl?” asked the red-haired brother.
“Which girl?”
“I honestly do not care, brother,” said the red-haired brother with a smile. “I am merely curious to know what you are doing here since you seem more interested in the one that left, rather than this one.”
The green-eyed man shrugged as his brother inclined his head toward Wendy. “I simply watch them from time to time.”
“Right, brother. Well, we should hurry.”
As the green-eyed man nodded, his gaze lowered to the dresser he stood beside. There was a picture of the two girls when they were teenagers. They had been working at an animal hospital and were both wearing scrubs while they smiled and held several puppies in their arms. Next to that picture was another one of the two friends. They were older in this one, early twenties, sitting side by side with several other mothers, who each held small children on their laps—a playdate. Jane and Wendy were smiling in the center of the photo. Jane held a little boy and girl while Wendy held two boys.
“Hm, that’s all, is it?” The red-haired brother laughed as he traced his large finger over Jane’s face in the playdate picture. “She must be an entertaining little thing. I do not recall ever witnessing you so intrigued by a human—or anyone, for that matter. No one will believe me.”
The green-eyed man’s face held no emotional reaction, but he knocked his brother’s hand off the picture. “Leave it.”
“Of course, big brother. Are you ready?” He paused and looked over at Wendy. “Or—”
The green-eyed man shook his head but said nothing.
His brother nodded, and in a glow of red light, he vanished.
As the green-eyed man let out a breath, he looked toward the dying girl but quickly returned his gaze to the picture. He slid his fingers over the curve of Jane’s face before lowering his hand.
Then, in a glow of emerald light, he was gone.
One Year Later
GASPING, JANE OPENED HER EYES and tilted her head to the side where the dimly lit numbers of her alarm clock came into view: 5:59.
“It was just a dream,” she whispered, turning her head so she gazed up at the ceiling. A tear slid into her hair. “Just a dream.”
That was a lie. They were never simply dreams. Only her memories could cause her to react this way. Horrible memories that she couldn’t escape, not even when she slept.
It occurred to Jane they were becoming more frequent and intense, but it hardly mattered. She still had to get up every day, and she did so without complaining to anyone. She woke up and lived. Well, she was alive. Not quite living, but she found strength from the air in her lungs, and though her heart always beat a little faster than most, it always slowed enough to assure her she wasn’t there anymore. That was enough to get through each day.
Still, even the most rested people wished for extra sleep on a Saturday morning, and Jane was no exception. She’d almost happily welcome the darkness of her past if that meant obtaining unconsciousness. But sleeping in no longer existed for her. Any moment now, soft footsteps would come to a stop beside her bed, and her day would have to begin.
Sure enough, shuffling footsteps greeted her ears. Jane rolled her head to the side and smiled at her five-year-old daughter. Natalie, who was practically a miniature version of Jane, with her pale skin and dark brown hair, stood quietly as her mom caressed her cheek.
Jane sighed and pushed some of the girl’s curly locks behind an ear. Life would be so much simpler if Natalie had her straight hair, but she loved her daughter’s unruly curls.
Natalie rubbed her chocolate brown eyes. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Jane sat up and glanced over at Jason, her husband, who hadn’t stirred. It took some effort, but she kept herself from throwing a pillow at him. If he hadn’t helped with the kids in the past five years, she should accept he never would.
Despite being exhausted and feeling the start of a headache, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and got up. “Do you want waffles or cereal?”
“Cereal,” Natalie said before skipping down the hall.
Jane nodded and went to the kitchen. She pulled down a box of Natalie’s favorite cereal and poured it into a plastic princess bowl.
Her daughter had gone into the living room and turned on the TV, so Jane poured a cup of orange juice and carried everything to the coffee table.
“I’m going to lie back down, okay?” Jane said.
Natalie nodded without looking away from her cartoons.
On her way back to her room, Jane stopped in the hall and listened for signs of Nathan, Natalie’s twin brother. Hearing nothing, she breathed a sigh of relief and entered her room.
She quickly got back in bed. Falling fully asleep was unlikely, but she hoped to enter that halfway state, the place where she could push back the menacing smile that resembled hers.
She enjoyed these in-between moments in her consciousness. Here she could feel calm. Here she felt a warmth that tingled across her skin before seeping into her soul. Here is where she saw a smile that did not resemble her inner demon’s. Still dangerous, she did not doubt, but more comforting than anything she’d ever experienced. The smile was what constantly renewed her belief that, one day, everything would be okay. The owner of that beautiful smile, never fully visible to her, always pulled her close with strong arms and promised to keep her safe.
Finally feeling somewhat relaxed, she shut her eyes. She felt as though she could call her protector to her, and just as her mind reached out, she gave up.
Hearing a distant bedroom door opening, Jane sighed and sat up for round two.
If ever a genuine smile could be found on Jane’s li
ps, it was for her children, and her son held a special place in her heart.
“Hey, bubby,” she greeted Nathan. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Nathan didn’t bear much of a resemblance to his petite sister. He was heavier set than his twin, and his olive skin was a shade lighter than his father’s. While Natalie had inherited her father’s curls, Nathan had inherited Jane’s straight hair.
“Want breakfast,” he said.
He’d been diagnosed with autism a few years ago, and he struggled to communicate with words, but Jane had her ways to get responses.
She spoke to him again and made sure to prompt him this time. “Do you want a waffle sandwich?”
“Sandwich.”
He ate the same thing every morning, but she always asked him the same way, hoping one day he would respond without a prompt or, by some miracle, ask for something else.
They didn’t speak as Jane put together his sandwich: a slice of microwaved bacon tucked in a folded waffle. Unlike his sister, though, he sat at the table and ate. Occasionally, he’d look up to watch her, but Jane had to feed their pets, so she quickly kissed the top of his head and went to the pantry.
Jules and Belle, the two cats, took turns rubbing along her calves, meowing loudly, like they usually did until their bowls were filled.
After she fed them, she grabbed dog food and went to the back door to feed Kuma and Rocky.
“Dogs,” she said. Such a simple way to greet them, but they seemed to understand her affection in that small word. They jumped up and greeted her by licking her hand as she filled their food bowls.
She stood there as they scarfed down their meal and then glanced up at the stars, which had already begun to fade with the morning light.
Her gaze drifted to the brightest of stars. Even if someone had stood behind her, they wouldn’t have heard her whisper, nor would they be able to see the pain caused by the twinkling starlight. “Hi, Wendy.”
Her eyes stung, and the inside of her nose burned as a pain in her chest grew, but she smiled as best she could before looking away.
She did not cry. She only rubbed under her eyes to ease the pressure before going back inside the house.
