The Monsters in Your Neighborhood

by Jesse Petersen

  Alec had come out of the kitchen and was slowly turning chairs upright.

  “No Igor?” he asked.

  “No anyone, just this.” She held up the note and looked at him, wary. She turned it over and froze.

  The paper was embossed with an ornate VH.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. “Great. Just what we need right now. Well, unfold it and let’s see what else the awesome, freaking universe will throw at us, shall we?”

  She unfolded the paper and sighed. “It’s short but sweet: We have information that can help you. Meet us tonight at the brownstone, nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”

  “That’s it?” he said, staring at her.

  She held the message out to him so he could see it. “Yup.”

  She moved over to the cordless phone near the television. There was blood on it somehow and she wiped it off on her shirt hem before she picked it up.

  Alec looked at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling in sick for work,” she explained with a heavy sigh. “Seems like we have something else to do tonight.”

  Alec hadn’t said anything to Natalie, mostly because she was already right on the edge of freaking the hell out, but also because he was still feeling woozy from . . . well, whatever had happened. On one hand, he wished he could remember; on the other . . . he wasn’t sure he’d like to be cognizant of what had been going through his mind when he’d tried to kill his girlfriend.

  But now here they sat, in a dimly lit, slightly dusty parlor in the Van Helsing townhome, waiting for . . . something.

  “Have you ever been here before?” Natalie asked.

  He jerked his head to look at her. She had her soothing-the-wild-beast tone of voice going. Was he freaking out? Now he wasn’t even sure anymore.

  “Um, no.” He fidgeted. “Never had the . . . well, I’d hardly call it a pleasure.”

  “It’s sort of right out of one of those stupid books about us, isn’t it?” she asked with a strained chuckle.

  He looked around. It was super-Gothic and creepy and completely clichéd. “And that butler? So weird.”

  “Yeah, he’s freaky.”

  “You two should talk,” came a voice from the door.

  Both of them surged to their feet and Alec turned to face a tall blond man who had entered the room with such silence that even Alec’s dog ears hadn’t caught it.

  “You may not remember me, Miss Gray—” he began.

  Natalie stepped closer to Alec and glared. “Oh, trust me, I never forget a bastard. Desmond Van Helsing. Where’s the old man?”

  For a moment, Desmond’s lips thinned and a flash of emotion entered his otherwise cold, clear blue eyes. “I will be handling this.”

  Natalie seemed surprised by that, and in truth so was Alec. The old man had been their main rival for a long time. Having all these young ones running around now was . . . disconcerting, to say the least.

  “Fine. Then what do you want?” Natalie’s tone was filled with quiet fire and Alec almost smiled. She was a tough girl when she let herself be. It was something he really liked about her.

  Desmond ignored her question and looked at him instead. “And you must be the wolf.”

  Alec stiffened. It was one thing for other monsters to make reference to his wolfiness. This was something else. Like he was a specimen to be examined.

  “My name is Alec Dunham,” he corrected through clenched teeth.

  The younger Van Helsing smiled ever so slightly, but never took his eyes off of Alec. He leaned in close, too close, and examined his face.

  “Interesting,” he finally said with another thin smile. “Very interesting.”

  “What?” Alec asked, even though he knew it was only playing into the bastard’s hand. “What is so fucking ‘interesting’?”

  “I don’t see a difference.”

  Natalie moved forward and pushed her way between Alec and Desmond. “Enough of your games.”

  Van Helsing stepped away and poured himself a drink, but offered them nothing. Just another subtle reminder that they weren’t worthy, weren’t human.

  “Mr. Dunham, Ms. Gray, as my note said, I have information for you.” He raised his glass to his lips and took a casual sip of liquor.

  “And why would you ever share information with us?” Natalie spat. “I thought we were freaks.”

  “You are,” Desmond said, and his eyes lit with fire and hatred that had been bred into him probably since birth.

  “This is a waste of time,” Alec growled, moving for the door.

  He hadn’t made it two steps when the younger Van Helsing called out, “Mr. Dunham, if you want to regain control over your little . . . problem, I would suggest you sit down.”

  Alec spun around to face Desmond, but it was Natalie who moved on him. She lunged forward, caught his starched collar with two hands, and lifted him off his feet. She shook him, her face a twisted mask of her rage and frustration.

  “What the hell do you mean? What do you know about Alec?”

  “Put me down, Creature,” Desmond ordered.

  Natalie stared at him for a moment, then did as he had said. He jerked his collar away from her and paced off, but Alec saw the truth. He saw Van Helsing’s fear, and it was a beautiful thing.

  “Sit,” Desmond repeated. “Both of you.”

  Natalie’s lip was curled up in a snarl, but she flopped herself onto an antique couch regardless, folded her arms, and waited for the explanation they had been promised. Alec had no choice but to join her.

  “Now, Mr. Dunham, am I correct that on Friday night you received a phone call on your cellular?” Desmond asked.

  Alec snorted at the use of the full word cellular, like it was classier that way or something, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Because of that, you left the side of Drakule and your other friends. After that, I assume you recall nothing?”

  Straightening up, Alec tried to quell the sick feeling rising in his chest. “What the hell do you know?”

  Desmond smiled. “I won’t waste any time. You have lost your memory because you were taken, rendered unconscious, and a surgery was performed on you.”

  Alec stared. He understood the words coming out of this fool’s mouth, but their meaning made his already spinning head even foggier.

  “Taken? A surgery? What are you talking about?” he asked, voice low even though he wanted to scream.

  Desmond straightened his tie. “A chip was implanted in your brain. A chip that, when activated, can force you to turn into your wolf form. A chip that allows the one with the trigger to control your actions.”

  Alec swallowed hard past a sudden lump in his throat. “That’s impossible,” he managed to mutter.

  “No, it’s very possible,” Desmond assured him with another of those blasted thin, smug smiles.

  Natalie shook her head, her skin pale as paper and her eyes wide. “It would explain . . . everything.”

  Alec glared at her. “I’m telling you, it’s impossible!”

  Desmond rolled his eyes. “Oh dear, I see you are determined to be thick. I suppose I shall have to prove it to you.” He strolled over to the door and depressed an intercom button set into the wall. “Please bring him in.”

  Natalie looked at Alec and he shrugged at her unspoken question. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, either. How he wished he did. Actually, he just wished all this was a dream and they could go back to before everything went all . . . weird.

  The door to the parlor opened and Alec recoiled at what was standing on the other side. The butler who had let them in earlier, and he had something on a leash.

  He was leading a Creature like Natalie into the room. The same Creature from the video.

  12

  Natalie knew she should breathe before she passed out in the middle of the Van Helsing parlor, but she couldn’t seem to remember how to do it. Instead, she stared, mouth agape, at the figure at the doorway. He was placidly standing
on his leash like a little trained doggie, his face blank, his eyes cold. Her mind raced with so many reactions they nearly knocked her off the couch.

  She was shocked, first. Shocked because she hadn’t seen another Creature like her for over a hundred years. To see one like this . . .

  He looked like a man, just bigger, with bulging muscles more suited to a 1990s comic book than a normal man. Clearly dear old Dad had gotten a little eccentric with his designs in his later years.

  Unlike hers, this Creature’s scars would be impossible to cover up. He must have had to make all kinds of explanations for them before he was taken by the Van Helsings. One scar zigzagged across his face and around his eye, another slashed over his throat with a lack of finesse that probably reflected her father’s increasing despair and madness as he fled from mobs yet furiously pursued his obsession.

  “What is your name?” she asked, getting to her feet and moving toward him. “Are you Otto or Cain?”

  The Creature just stared at her, a low growl emanating from his chest like a cornered animal.

  Desmond took the leash and jerked the Creature inside the room. “Please, it doesn’t have a name.”

  She shook her head and forced herself not to start crying at her . . . brother’s empty expression. “He does. He has a name just like I do.”

  Desmond rolled his eyes. “I suppose I could call my little pet Fido if it would make you feel better.”

  A red fog of rage settled over Natalie and she lurched toward Van Helsing. The only thing that kept her from ripping him to shreds was when Alec grabbed her forearm and yanked her back next to him.

  “I know you want to kill him. Me, too. But we need to know what’s going on and we can’t do that if you go all kung fu on his ass,” he whispered, close to her ear so only she would hear him.

  She looked at Alec, focusing on his face, concentrating on the fact that he was in danger if she didn’t regain some control, and her anger faded slightly. He was right. For his sake, for that poor Creature’s sake, she needed to stay calm.

  “What did you do to him?” Alec asked. “Why is he so . . . empty?”

  Desmond grinned. “Why, the same thing we did to you, my dear boy. Only we keep him under a low level of control at all times.” He glanced at Natalie. “Wouldn’t want my pet to get out of control, you know. He’s quite large. But since you have doubts about our ability to control you . . . things, allow me to demonstrate.”

  He reached behind him without a word and the butler pressed a small white remote into Desmond’s hand. It had a red button and a green button. He lifted it and clicked the green. Immediately the Creature jolted as if he had been shocked. The dull emptiness on his face vanished, replaced by a rather zombie-ish focus. Not exactly wide awake, but ready. At the ready.

  “There’s a good boy,” Desmond said, watching Natalie for her reaction. One she was trying very hard not to show him. “Miss Gray, do you like Young Frankenstein?”

  She swallowed hard. “Do not make him dance.”

  Desmond chuckled. “Very well, perhaps next time. How about this instead?”

  He moved across the room and opened a small cabinet from which he took a phone book. Like a legit, paper phone book, at least six inches thick.

  Alec’s brow wrinkled. “Um, when did you get that, 1985?”

  Desmond’s gaze flickered to him and Natalie almost smiled at the annoyance on the bastard’s face. Good, let him be irritated by Alec. She felt so much worse than irritated, he should suffer a little.

  Without responding to Alec, Desmond handed the phone book to the Creature.

  “Tear it,” he ordered.

  For a moment, the Creature stared at the thing in his hands, then he grabbed the top of the book with both hands, let out a guttural grunting cry, and tore it in two like it was nothing more than a sheet of toilet paper.

  “If I told him to do the same to your arms, he would,” Desmond said with a proud-papa smile that turned Natalie’s stomach.

  “Just like he did to that man in the park?” Alec asked.

  She froze. She’d been so horrified by seeing a Creature in this condition, she hadn’t even been thinking of the thing in the park. The Van Helsings had been so smug about the video, but of course they had caused it. They had made this Creature do what he did in order to create chaos for the other monsters in the world. That night was only a move in a long game attached to an even longer war.

  Desmond nodded slightly. “Indeed. He is a tool for us, you see. Doing what he did brought attention to you, it drew you out to the public, and now they are starting to remember that there are things to fear in the world. The video of Alec stealing the book further amplifies that fear. Layer by layer, we are building our weapons against you: the people and their terror, their hate.”

  “And you call us the monsters,” Natalie choked.

  “So you’ve shown us your prize and proven that your statement that you can control us—me—with your surgery is true,” Alec snapped. His voice was firm, but Natalie could see the worry in his eyes. “But why call us here for this? Are you planning to trigger me again?”

  Desmond’s smug smile faded. “If I could do so, perhaps I would, I have no idea. But I don’t have your triggering mechanism.”

  Natalie’s eyes went wide. “What? Then who does?”

  Desmond folded his arms. “And so we come at last to the reason I called you here. You see, the man who can control Mr. Dunham, the one who holds his trigger, is none other than your former companion, Edward Hyde.”

  Alec’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he stared at Desmond Van Helsing.

  “Hyde?” he repeated, as if saying the name again would somehow make it untrue or better.

  It did neither.

  “What the hell are you talking about? Hyde is helping you? How? Why?” Natalie asked, her tone filled with as much disbelief as his own.

  “How we became involved with Mr. Hyde is of little importance,” Desmond said with a wave of his hand.

  “Not to us,” Alec snorted.

  Desmond ignored him. “What matters is that it was Mr. Hyde who agreed to do the surgery on the Creature here. And it worked, so we advanced our plans and asked him to take you and do the same. To use you to obtain our true desire. He did, except he reneged on our agreement. He did not deliver what we agreed upon.”

  Natalie rubbed her eyes. “The Book of the Dead that Alec was made to steal from the Met.”

  He nodded once. “Indeed.”

  “Why do you want it?” Alec asked. “Why go to these lengths?”

  “Unlike the rest of you, the mummies cannot be controlled by the chip. They must be destroyed by other means,” Desmond explained.

  Alec was overwhelmed by sudden horror and disgust. Kai and Rehu might be annoying as hell, but he didn’t want them turned into dust piles on the floor, either. The book was so powerful, so dangerous, that he shuddered to think what Hyde would do with it. He could kill the mummies himself, or build himself an army with its other spells. He might do both if the mood struck him.

  Alec shook his head. “Well, this exposition explosion has been great and highly informative, Mr. Van Helsing, but I’m afraid I have to go. Need to find someone to remove this chip, you see.”

  Desmond held up a hand. “I wouldn’t do that. It was installed to ensure that removal would equal death.”

  Natalie actually wobbled on her feet, and for a brief moment Alec saw all her emotions reflected on her face. He thought of the fact that she’d said she loved him earlier. Now he realized it was actually true.

  “Death?” she whispered.

  Desmond nodded. “Unless it is removed properly—and only we know how to do that. However, we will remove it for you.”

  Alec glared at him. “In exchange for what?”

  “We want that book.”

  Bile rose up in Alec’s throat and burned the back of his tongue with an acid taste as he stared at Desmond Van Helsing like he’d just spoken a foreig
n tongue. How he wished he had, that he’d misunderstood Van Helsing’s request.

  “You want us to give you a book that you’ll surely use to kill our friends, in return for your help in removing something you arranged to have put in me in the first place?” he asked, accentuating each word, more for his own ears than for Desmond’s.

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “Fuck you. I’ll find another way to get it out.”

  Desmond laughed. “Feel free to try, but the results may be very unfortunate for you, as they were for the others.”

  “Others?” Natalie whispered.

  He met her eyes without a word and slowly arched a brow.

  Others. Meaning other monsters. Other dead monsters.

  Alec swallowed. “I see.”

  “You have two days to find that book and return it to us,” Desmond said, and now the smile was gone, the smugness was gone. He was all business. Ugly, ugly business.

  “Or what?” Natalie asked.

  He folded his arms. “Or the next thing ripped in half won’t be a phone book.” He grabbed the Creature’s leash and dragged him toward the door. Without even bothering to look back at them, he said, “Good day.”

  And left them standing in his parlor with no options, no words, and no hope.

  13

  They should have taken the subway home to save money, but they didn’t. Alec stood in the street, holding his hand out for a cab, as Natalie huddled on the sidewalk, feeling the cold winter wind all the way into her very old bones.

  She watched him as a cab finally stopped. He leaned in the window and said something to the driver, then motioned for her to come on. She felt numb as she did, walking over, getting in, putting her seat belt on. (Yeah, so she was the only one in New York who did it—what of it?) They were all such human actions, but now she was being asked to do something so utterly inhuman. So utterly monstrous.

  But as she looked at Alec, who was getting in beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as the cab pulled away into the night, there was a tiny thought that said the deal was worth it. That somehow she could find a way to justify pushing Kai and Rehu over a cliff if she could save Alec instead.