Roaring

by Katie May

  I can do this.

  I can do this

  “Two. One.”

  Another siren blares, disrupting the previous calm I felt.

  “And the first competition of the Roaring has officially commenced!”

  CHAPTER 27

  VIOLET

  I have a rule book I follow when being a badass.

  Rule number one: Fake it till you make it. Don’t trip or break it. Liberate it.

  Rule number two: Everything sounds better as a rap. So go back to rule number one, and rap the shit out of it.

  Feel more badass yet?

  With a quick glance in both directions, ensuring I’m still alone, I walk towards the parking lot and desolate grocery store. It looks as if the place has been ransacked, graffiti painting the sun-bleached walls and the windows shattered. The few cars littering the parking lot are empty, the doors flung open as if the occupants had been attempting to escape something. Or someone.

  Probably the monsters currently roaming these streets.

  After confirming the shelves inside the store are empty, I check each glove compartment inside the cars. The first vehicle only carries a handful of napkins and years old bubblegum. The second has a faded photo displaying a smiling couple and a wad of crumpled bills. It’s the third car that piques my interest. Nestled between a box of condoms and a fast-food wrapper is a tiny handgun. I’m not skilled enough to tell you the make, brand, or model, but it fits snugly in my hand.

  Using what little knowledge I possess, I check to make sure the safety is on before counting the bullets. Seven.

  That’s good, right?

  I check five more fucking times to make sure the safety is on before shoving it in the waistband of my shorts. The last thing I need to do is blow off my vagina. I rather like it, thank you very much.

  Now where to?

  My feet rooted to the ground, I spin in a circle, surveying my surroundings with a new lens. Buildings extend as far as the eye can see, each one taller and more imposing than the last. Fortunately, I don’t see any other monsters.

  Unfortunately, I don’t see the damn exit.

  And as much as I don’t want to shoot my vagjay off, I really don’t want to blow up.

  “Eeeny. Meeny. Miney. Mo.” I point towards a location at random and squint my eyes against the blinding sun before shrugging and skipping down the path.

  Down here, the buildings appear even more dilapidated than before. There’s a skyscraper balancing precariously on one side, devoid of any windows. Next to it is what appears to be a once-cozy coffee shop that is now littered with trash and spray paint. The farther I walk, the more my unease ratchets up, strangling my airways.

  I can’t help but feel as if there are eyes burning into my scalp. That feeling grows with every step I take until I’m physically nauseous. Slowly, as to not alert the monster that I’m on to him, I remove my gun from my waistband and hold it at the ready. There are very few creatures that this weapon will kill, but I don’t need to murder the monster in order to win. I just need to get away and survive.

  Heart hammering, I peer over my shoulder where I could’ve sworn I felt the eyes caressing me. But when I look, the street is empty, not even a bird to be seen overhead.

  “Fucking hell,” I murmur, quickening my pace. I’m becoming paranoid, which will only lead me to make sloppy decisions. All I can do now is put one foot in front of the other and hope I’ll make it out of this mess alive.

  Something grabs my hair, wrenching my head back, and I let out a startled scream. Wrenching my curls out of the monster’s grip, I spin around, gun raised.

  No one’s behind me.

  “What the…?” Before I can articulate my question, I feel a body tackle me from the side, propelling me off my feet. I release an “oomph” as I collapse on the asphalt, grit and pebbles embedding themselves into my skin. Still, when I look, there’s no one there.

  A fist connects with my cheek, and I finally understand who my attacker is.

  The Invisible Man. Or his daughter.

  Actually…

  A second pair of hands grab my shoulders, holding me steady as the first person continues to rain down his or her assault.

  Both of them are here.

  Daddy and daughter duo. Killing vamps and taking names. I would actually be kind of jealous of their bonding time if, you know, it didn’t include punching my face in.

  I buck my hips up while simultaneously jerking my head forward at the person overtop of me. The decidedly feminine scream clues me in that the Invisible Girl is the one destroying my perfect face. Her daddy must be holding me down.

  “You bitch,” she spits, drops of salvia hitting my face. Focusing on my senses, I wait until I hear the rush of air indicating she’s attempting to throw another punch. Before her fist can connect, I grab her hand and twist it, smirking in satisfaction at the audible crack of bones.

  Before her dad can retaliate, I jump to my feet and kick out where I suspect him to be. When my foot connects with nothing but air, I duck to the side just in time to avoid his lunge at me.

  Okay, you can’t see him, Violet, but you have other senses. What do you hear?

  Footsteps pounding on the road shake me out of my own head, and, trusting my judgement, I lift my gun and fire two rapid shots into the incoming monster’s heart. Behind me, the Invisible Girl releases an agonized shriek of pain and fury as her dad’s form begins to flicker, becoming visible once more. His eyes are wide in shock as he stares at the bullet holes in his nether region, blood rapidly gushing from the opened wound.

  “Sorry,” I mouth, wincing. I never said I had good aim, did I?

  Fuck, I’m a penis murderer. The guys will never forgive me for destroying this man’s cock. RIP, Little Invisible Man. It was nice knowing you.

  Invisible Girl—I really should learn her name—shoulders past me and crouches beside her bleeding father.

  “You bitch!” she screams through gritted teeth, hurling daggers at me with her eyes.

  Badass rule number three: Run when you accidentally shoot off someone’s dick.

  Saluting her with my still smoking gun, I race away from her, the wind whipping my golden locks back.

  I’m so preoccupied with getting away from the perceived threat that I don’t notice the next monster until I’m plowing him over. We land in a tangle of limbs on the cement, my gun slipping from my hand and sliding down the sidewalk.

  “Violet?” Cal asks groggily, alerting me to the body I’m still very much pressed up against. Cheeks flushing, I jump to my feet and extend a hand towards the rumpled cupid. He rubs at his head where it bounced against the cement, eyebrows creasing in confusion. “Why the hell did you just tackle me?”

  “Long story short,” I begin, nibbling on my lower lip as I help him to his feet, “I shot off a cock and now I’m running from Invisible Girl and Daddy.”

  “Daddy?” he asks in disbelief, eyebrows raising.

  “Not my daddy,” I say, dismissing his concerns with a wave of my hand. “Her daddy.”

  “The invisible girl has a daddy?” This time, his eyebrows are practically in his hairline.

  “Everyone has a daddy,” I counter immediately. “I have a daddy. Barret has a daddy—”

  “Did he tell you?” Cal asks abruptly, pink tinging his cheeks. “Because we only did that once.”

  Okayyyy…

  I’m pretty sure we’re not talking about the same thing here.

  “M-Moving on…” I stammer, raking a hand through my disheveled curls. “Are you alone?”

  “I was.” He flashes me a devilish grin and bumps his hip against my own. “But now I have a pretty little vampire to keep me company. Fuck, Vi, I’m so happy to see you. I was about to die of loneliness.” He throws his arms around me, and I don’t hesitate to hug him back. The chiseled planes of his body mold against my soft curves, and I can’t help the sliver of desire that courses through me. I shut that shit down before it can completely manifest, tho
ugh, mentally reprimanding myself.

  “I was about to die because I destroyed a cock,” I murmur into his neck, my hand smoothing down his feathered wings. I’ve always wanted to touch these little bastards—to see for myself if they’re as soft as they appear. They’re not; they’re even softer.

  “Yup. No more of that,” Cal exclaims abruptly, pushing himself away from me and placing his hands on my shoulders to keep a respectful distance between us. “We’re not at the petting stage of our friendship yet.”

  “There’s a stage for that?” I question, once again ignoring the flutters in my stomach.

  “Stage one, we shake hands. Stage two, we hug. Stage three, we heavy pet. Stage four, we fuck,” he ticks off, smirking at my expression.

  “I’m not heavy petting your ugly ass,” I blurt immediately. Flames engulf both of my cheeks, and I quickly change the subject. “Let’s go.”

  Smooth, Violet. Real smooth.

  Cal takes my abrupt topic change in stride, walking beside me in amicable silence as I grab the gun and shove it back in my waistband. “Where are we going?” he asks at last after five minutes of aimless walking.

  “Didn’t really have a destination in mind,” I grunt out. “But you’re more than welcome to lead if you know a way out of here.”

  Cal gives me a look out of the corner of his eye before focusing once more on the long stretch of road. “Nah. I’m good with aimless walking.”

  “We can sing some merry tunes,” I tease, nudging his shoulder with my own.

  “Merry walking tunes?”

  “The only—” Abruptly, I’m pushed around a corner, Cal’s lanky but muscular body towering over mine in a protective shield. Eyes intent on my face, he presses one finger to his lips, indicating for me to remain silent. I pantomime zipping my mouth shut as growls reach me from the distance.

  Mouth compressed in a grim line, I nudge Cal to the side and peer around the corner of the building.

  The seven-foot-long creature crawls across the road, serrated, blood-stained teeth visible as he smiles. The beast has long claws, clearly intended for a quick and ruthless death. One swipe from them will incapacitate any monster in seconds. His form is pitch black, but instead of smooth skin, he has rough scales lining the length of his lean body. As I watch, horrified, he smiles menacingly and slowly licks the blood from his lips with a snake-like tongue. Moss covers the entirety of his body, and when he ventures closer, I notice he leaves a wet trail in its wake, almost like a disgusting snail.

  The Bog Monster.

  I try to recall the lore on such a creature. It’s blind, isn’t it? Or maybe deaf? Fuck!

  Cal’s grip tightens surreptitiously on my shoulder, a warning to remain hidden until the monster passes.

  Neck creaking, the monster slowly turns to stare in our general direction. Now, I’m more sure than ever that he’s blind. His black eyes, glinting with feral madness, sweep over us without ever sticking. And then, he throws his head back and releases a guttural roar.

  The noise courses through me, rendering me momentarily speechless. The allure this monster has is incredibly strong. I ignore the tug in my gut, the craving to surrender, as his scream continues to tighten around me. Only certain creatures have that capability. Vampires, for one. Incubi and sirens. Even some fairies.

  Who would’ve thought the hideous Bog Monster had a power that made you want to rip your panties off? I officially want to vomit.

  Cal presses me against his chest, hands almost bruising, as he too fights off the creature’s allure.

  Finally, the Bog Monster lowers his head and continues his slow, almost lackadaisical, crawl.

  Until an unfamiliar female steps out from around the corner opposite us.

  Cursing, Cal begins to pull us farther away from the oblivious female—a wraith, maybe—and the Bog Monster who has now honed in on his prey.

  The girl’s bellow of pain trumpets through the air as Cal breaks into a run, fingers interlocked with my own. We run until we reach the door of a rustic mom and pop diner.

  “Fucking hell,” Cal breathes, raking his fingers through his pink hair. “That monster had a stronger allure than even me…and I’m fucking Cupid!” I can tell by his face that he’s genuinely depressed by this. My poor, over-dramatic man-baby.

  “I’m sure riding your cock would be better than riding his,” I say soothingly, patting his shoulder. Those vibrant eyes of his blaze brightly as they focus on me.

  “You imagined riding my cock?” he asks, voice almost husky. I can feel something shifting between us, something I can’t put into words, but like before, I bury it before it can fester.

  “Of course not…buddy,” I state, punching Cal’s shoulder in a totally platonic and friendly move. Because we’re friends. Best friends. Only friends. Friends forever. Just friends.

  He winces, pulling a face, as he rubs at the spot. “Don’t break the pretty.”

  I pretend to squint my eyes in concentration. “I don’t see it.”

  “See what?”

  “The pretty,” I deadpan. Cal snorts and tugs at a strand of my hair.

  “Bitch,” he jests.

  “Asshole.”

  “Gorgeous asshole,” he corrects, gifting me his back and pointing to his ass. A rather nice ass…

  Rolling my eyes at his antics, I survey the building we have found ourselves in. The red vinyl booths and the jukebox in the corner give the restaurant a retro feel. Food in various stages of decay are left on the tables and counter, maggots wiggling and thrashing in more than a few dishes. A fine layer of dust coats every available surface, somehow making this place feel even more ominous and eerie.

  “Do you think this is an actual city?” I question, running a finger over the name on the menu. Coffey House. Cute.

  “What do you mean?” Cal queries, peeking through the broken blinds at the street.

  “This city. Do you think they actually—?”

  Murdered everyone who lived here.

  The words sit on my tongue, but I don’t speak them. I can’t speak them. It’s just too horrible for me to even comprehend—the loss of human life for some sick game.

  “No,” Cal states firmly, turning to face me completely. “This is an arena, Vi. Nothing more.”

  I exhale heavily in relief. Most of the monsters consider humans to be a lesser breed, but I happen to like them. Sure, they’re stinky and noisy and constantly in need of attention, but they’re house and potty trained.

  “We need to figure out a way out of here,” Cal muses, focusing back on the window. He trails his finger down the dirt-smeared plane almost absent-mindedly. “The other guys are smart. They’ve probably already found their way out of this hellhole.”

  “You worried about Barret?” I question, joining him at the window. He sighs heavily and presses his forehead against the plastic blinds. Cal once told me that while he wasn’t in love with Barret—despite their sexual relationship—they were still best friends.

  “Of course I am,” he answers glumly. “And I’m worried about Tall and Stabby, Beanie, Two-face, and Heartless.”

  I have a feeling that Tall and Stabby could only mean Vin. Beanie is no doubt Mason, and Two-face is Hux and Jack. Heartless? That’s Frankie, though I’ll be the first to refute that claim.

  “And…” He twists his head so he’s facing me. “And I was worried about you. A lot.”

  My heart thunders to my throat as I manage a wobbly smile. “I’m a badass vampire. You don’t need to worry.”

  “I’ll always worry,” he declares, eyes ensnaring my own. Both of us—as if following some unspoken consensus—turn away from each other abruptly, clearing our throats.

  “We still need to figure out where to go,” I say, pushing away from the window and pacing the grime-coated floors. “I think…wait!” I hold a single finger to the air at my unexpected epiphany. “Dimitri mentioned something before I entered the portal. He said…he said I should visit the hospital.”

 
“For, like, a prostate exam…?” Cal asks with a sly grin, winking.

  And now, I’m thinking about Cal with his finger up my ass. Thank you, Cupid.

  “What if that’s our way out of here? Through the hospital?” I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. What if Dimitri wasn’t threatening me, but helping me?

  “I don’t know, Vi,” Cal says warily. “A lot of the monsters I’ve seen are heading in the opposite direction.” He gestures towards where we’d been walking before Bog Man’s appearance, farther into town. “The only hospital I saw is back the way we came from. Are you sure Dimitri wasn’t just fucking with you?”

  That’s a very real possibility. A very real possibility. But just lather my asshole up with lube, bend me over a table, and anal fuck me, because despite Dimitri’s glaringly obvious flaws, I trust him. Which is probably—definitely—stupid.

  “I mean, I don’t—” I break off abruptly as I spot a figure through the window rapidly approaching the diner. “Wait? Is that Jack? Or Hux?” I question, pressing my face to the glass. I can’t tell for certain which brother he is. His black hair is messily brushed into a man bun at the top of his head, a few dark strands escaping. The hairstyle doesn’t look like something Jack or Hux would wear.

  “Wait, I think it is,” Cal says, sounding just as eager as I am. All of a sudden, his face pales and he grabs at my arm. “He has a fucking bomb, Vi.”

  “He wouldn’t ever hurt me,” I protest immediately, comforted by that fact. They would sooner cut off their own fingers than harm a hair on my head.

  “Oh, shit!” Cal curses, pulling me away from the window and racing towards the back door.

  I only have a second to see Hux/Jack lift his arm and throw the grenade before I’m pushed into the alley behind the restaurant.

  And then, the building explodes.

  CHAPTER 28

  MASON

  I fucking hate clowns.

  Ugly bastards, the whole lot of them. White faces. Unruly red hair. Too much makeup.