Roaring
Page 22
Stabby the Clown? Fucking terrifying, and that’s coming from me.
I’m pretty sure any monster with the name “Stabby” isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
White powder covers his pudgy face, already smearing in some places from excess sweat. Blood has been liberally applied to his cheeks and forehead. The lower half of his face is painted into a demented smile full of serrated teeth. It extends from one ear to the next, completely overshadowing his real mouth. Instead of cheerful, colorful fabrics, he wears what appears to be human skins. A single femur bone is placed in his disheveled red hair.
“Um, Stabby? We don’t need to be enemies, my man.” I hold up my hands as I slowly step backwards.
Eyes intent on my own, Stabby procures a bouquet of flowers from his sleeve. Nestled between the tulips is a single blade.
And here I was wondering where he got the nickname from.
Just before he can swipe, Vin appears from around the corner, wraps his hands around Stabby’s neck, and snaps it. The clown collapses onto the pavement with a thump.
“Goodbye, Stabby. It was nice knowing you.” I give a two-fingered wave as I watch Vin kneel beside his corpse and grab the blade from the bouquet.
“We need to get going,” my best friend states, shoving the blade in his pocket.
“Pinkie will be fine,” I insist immediately, easily able to read the turmoil in his eyes. Though, despite my words, a tiny trickle of fear cascades down my spine. She will be fine, right? All I know for certain is that the portal threw me on top of an elementary school and I was forced to shimmy down a flagpole. Fortunately, Vin had fallen nearby, and we were able to team up.
But there was no Frankie or Hux/Jack.
No Cal or Barret.
No Violet.
I feel her absence as keenly as Stabby’s blade would’ve felt embedded in my chest. I don’t like not knowing where she is or how she’s doing. I can already see Vin wrestling with his protective instincts demanding that he upturn this entire fucking town—monsters be damned—until he finds her. I just barely was able to hold him back when I first found him, Dimitri’s words to Violet reverberating through my head.
The hospital.
Surely, it was a hint.
I have no doubt Pinkie will be heading in that direction as well.
Hoping to distract Vin so his thoughts won’t spiral out of control, I shove him in the shoulder. “Next time we run into a creepy-ass clown named Stabby, you’ll be the bait, okay?”
He snorts, pasting on a smile, but I can tell his mind is still miles and miles away. Probably with a certain dainty vampire with bigger balls than him. I know that he’s also worried about Vanessa, but he knows—as well as I do—that she can take care of herself. Violet, on the other hand…
She once knocked herself unconscious trying to chest bump Barret.
We walk in companionable semi-silence, ribbons of red and orange from the proud sun decorating the rickety, decrepit buildings. Semi-silence because, despite our dour situation, I can’t stop myself from singing softly beneath my breath.
“Can you shut the fuck up?” Vin gripes, spewing vitriol with his eyes.
“Can you make me?” I taunt. And then, because I’m an egotistical asshole, I wrap my arm around his shoulder and whisper in his ear, “I’m sexy and I know it.”
“Asshole.” Vin shoves at my shoulder, and I release a bark of laughter as I stumble over my own two feet. Despite Vin’s normal grumpiness, a wry smile pulls up his lips, and I call that a win. I’m worried about Violet too, but I know we need to remain level-headed.
If anything were to happen to her…
I shake my head quickly as we reach a fork in the road cluttered with abandoned cars.
Vin drops to his knees and tentatively touches a speck of dirt. As a Van Helsing, he’s skilled at hunting—almost scarily so. Every trampled blade of grass, every footprint, every overturned rock… He sees them all.
“The monsters were heading this way,” he points towards the left road. “Towards the center of the city. That means we need to head this way.” He points in the opposite direction, where the road is littered with trash and the cars are scarce.
“If Dimitri was just fucking with us…” I warn tersely. “If we’re actually supposed to go downtown like the other monsters…” I once more trail off as a cold chill races down my back. Despite leaving my statement unfinished, the message is clear—we’re fucked.
Why do we have to rely on a psychopathic assassin for survival?
“It doesn’t matter.” Vin spins the dagger between his fingers, eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration. “None of it matters if we don’t find Violet.”
“Hey,” I place my hand on his shoulder, “we’ll get her back. She’s strong, okay?”
“And she has a tendency to trip over her own two feet and land on a blade,” he points out dryly, and my own worry ratchets up another notch. Because, yeah, that totally happened.
“She’ll be fine.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or myself. Maybe a bit of both. Panic claws at my chest at the possibility that she’s lying in a ditch somewhere, crying for us. She might not know for certain that we’re her fated mates, but I have no doubt she suspects there’s something otherworldly and ethereal about our connection.
Abruptly, Vin grabs my arm and pulls me to a stop. His other hand, still holding Stabby’s blade, points towards the horizon where the cerulean blue sky is interspersed with fluffy white clouds. Below that, the once tall and imposing skyscrapers give way to family homes with shingle roofs and painted plaster. At first, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking at, but then tiny blobs materialize in the distance.
“Is that…?” I recognize the figure in the middle almost instantly. Frankie stands with his lips compressed into a grim line. Streaks of blood run in rivulets from an open wound on his forehead as he stands in the midst of beasts.
Not monsters—I’m a monster, Vin’s a monster, Violet’s a monster—but grotesque and disfigured creatures that could only be the creations of Dr. Frankenstein.
The one closest to Frankie appears to be a male silhouette with a smooth black face. He almost resembles a shadow, no identifying features in sight. His frame is lean, almost sickly, and he stands perfectly straight with his head cocked to the side. The beast beside him has lips that resemble those of a sea lamprey—circular with row after row of crenulated teeth. His eyes are beady, almost like a spider’s, and emit an eerie red glow. His torso is decidedly human, but his body is that of a majestic horse. A centaur, but not like the ones you see in the movies. This fucker is terrifying, exuding danger like it’s a palpable entity. The next three monsters have their backs to me, but they appear to be some sort of hound. Their fur is coarse, riddled with rainbow streaks, and their ears are covered in rips and tears.
“Errr, should we help him?” I whisper conspiratorially to Vin, but the hunter merely shushes me, focusing on Frankie with narrowed eyes.
It suddenly occurs to me that the beasts aren’t attacking our cold-blooded friend. Instead, they appear to be listening to him, their heads canted to the side in consideration.
Vin nods at me once, and we both immediately move forward to join the huddle. Frankie glances up sharply at our footsteps, but his face slackens with relief when he spots us. Eyes cold, he steps through the throng of beasts.
“It’s so good to see you guys,” he says—though his tone suggests it’s anything but. Yeah, our little scientist needs to work on his bedside manner. Sometimes, I have the distinct feeling he’s planning on cutting open my chest to experiment on my organs. I think our tentative friendship is the only thing keeping me in one piece.
Abruptly, Frankie’s features tighten imperceptibly as he peers around both of our shoulders. “Where’s Violet?” Those cold, cold eyes of his land first one me and then on Vin. “Where the fuck is she?”
“We don’t know,” Vin answers wearily, sounding almost tired. He rakes his finge
rs through his tousled black hair and heaves out a sigh. “She must’ve landed somewhere else when the portal spit her out.”
Frankie’s lips purse, as if he has eaten something sour, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he merely stalks back towards his little beastly friends. I’m going to name them Shadow and Fishy, and the triplets will be Biscuit, Tuna, and Spaghetti.
“What the fuck are they, and why aren’t they dead?” Vin snaps, some of his original ire returning as he glares at the disgusting creatures.
Frankie waves a hand at them almost dismissively, as if he can’t be bothered to introduce them. “Apparently, I have enough of Frankenstein’s blood in me for the monsters to think I’m their daddy.” He makes a face before quickly smoothing out his features. “They’ve been following me around ever since.”
“Aren’t you a cutie patootie,” I coo, crouching down beside one of the mangy mutts. He bares his teeth at me, sharper than those of a shark, and immediately lunges for me. I squeal and run behind Vin, using him for protection.
“Fucking pussy,” Vin seethes, shoving me away from him.
“Pussies are stronger than cocks,” I point out, eyeing the dog-thing as he drops back to his stomach in front of Frankie. “That’s what Violet always says.”
The mention of our missing mate immediately cools the light-hearted atmosphere. Vin, if it’s even possible, appears even more broody, and Frankie looks as if he wants to cut a bitch. Or a Mason.
“We think she’s headed to the hospital,” Vin states at last.
“After what Dimitri said, I think you’re right.” He nods once, already turning on his heel in preparation to leave. “I was headed there myself. Even if for some reason Dimitri was pulling Violet’s leg, we’ll all be together to travel to the main part of the city. There’s too many monsters for us to go on our own.” He releases a shrill whistle, and his beasts immediately begin trailing behind him like besotted puppies. To be quite frank, it’s weird as fuck to see.
Vin and I exchange a long, commiserating glance.
“We’ll get her back,” I say for the twentieth time in the last few minutes. His eyes harden with resolve, lips thinning. After a moment, he nods his head in agreement.
“We’ll get her back.”
CHAPTER 29
VIOLET
Flames immediately engulf the sides of the cozy diner, specks of red and orange and yellow eating away at the siding. Cal’s arms are iron vises around me as we both stare at the crumbling building in rapt horror.
“Holy shit balls,” I wheeze.
“He must not have known you were inside,” Cal murmurs, tone pitched in horror and disbelief. “But fuck, we could’ve died. I’m too pretty and young to die this early.”
All I can do is nod mutely. What if Cal hadn’t seen the grenade before Hux/Jack threw it? What if we had still been in the building when it exploded? Fire is one of the few things that can kill a vampire. After all, a body can’t put itself back together again when it’s decimated into ash. Neither Hux or Jack would ever be able to forgive themselves if they had accidentally murdered me.
“We should see if he’s still there,” I say, freeing myself from Cal’s arms. I don’t waste any time racing around the restaurant and towards where I had last seen my lover—lovers? The street, however, is barren, with no indication that Hux/Jack had ever been here to begin with. I have no doubt that Hux is steadily losing control, his need to find and protect me overriding his logical side. Even Jack won’t be able to handle a feral and completely unhinged Hux.
“He left already,” I whisper, feeling oddly bereft. All I want is to see one of my men and wrap myself in his arms. I’m driving myself crazy with worry. Are they hurt? Dead? Are they looking for me? Are they heading towards the city or towards the hospital? Question after question continue to bombard me from all sides like a twenty-car pile-up.
“Vi, we need to get moving.” Cal’s hand rests on my upper arm to guide me away from the roaring flames. “The fire is going to catch a lot of attention.”
“You’re right.” I nod resolutely, peering through the smoke. “We need to head to the hospital. Now.”
The next hour is silent as we venture farther away from the main city to an area of town decorated in cozy houses and hipster coffee shops. My anxiety threatens to implode with each step we take. Somehow, the lack of other monsters does little to soothe my jagged and frayed nerves. Shouldn’t there be others? Why are we all alone?
“I don’t like this,” Cal whispers, giving voice to my own thoughts.
“Maybe we should turn around…” I begin hesitantly, peering over my shoulder at the waning sunlight illuminating the numerous skyscrapers. If Dimitri’s wrong—or if he’s just fucking with me—then I have inevitably led Cal to his own death. “If we make it to the hospital and discover that’s not the way out of this hellhole, there’s no way we’ll be able to make it to the central part of the city before our time is up,” I implore. “So we need to make a choice. Trust Dimitri, or follow the rest of the monsters.”
We pause in the middle of the street, our chests heaving as we whip our heads from one direction to the other. This decision feels monumental, like that moment in chess when you have the capability to capture the other player’s king. Check-fucking-mate. But in this scenario, I’m unable to see the entire game board and the rules have been written in gibberish. One wrong move, and it’ll be game over for all of the players.
“Violet, you know Dimitri better than any of us. Can we trust him?” Cal stares earnestly into my eyes, beseeching me with just his look to trust my instincts.
But…
But what if my instincts are wrong? What if my decision leads to Cal’s death? I can feel myself balancing on a scale, one foot on either surface, but try as I might, I can’t get it to settle. It keeps tilting precariously in one direction. And I know immediately, unerringly, what we need to do.
“We need to get to the hospital,” I tell Cal at last, and I can only pray that my decision isn’t my final one. Cal smiles, nodding briskly, before we continue in the direction of the hospital, just barely visible through the smog.
“Cal! Cheese Curd!” a voice screams from behind us. We both turn to see Barret barreling towards us, a wide grin on his handsome face. He captures me first, immediately spinning me in a circle. His strong arms are like bands around my waist, refusing to release me.
“Barret!” I squeal, relieved to see him in relatively one piece. Besides a blood wound curving down his cheek, he appears to be unharmed. His eyes are alive with happiness and joy. “You’re okay!”
“Of course I’m okay,” he states, confused. “You’re looking at me right now.”
When he places me on my feet, he turns towards Cal with another beatific grin.
“Come here you, asshole,” Cal says, relieved, and Barret wraps the cupid in his arms, being extra aware of his feathered red wings. Cal gently grabs Barret’s chin and guides his lips to his own. The two begin to kiss tentatively at first, almost shyly, before Cal’s tongue snakes out and enters the Boogeyman’s mouth. It’s oddly erotic to watch, and I can feel myself begin to grow wet. When Cal glances at me out of the corner of his eye, I realize the bastard did it on purpose.
“We should get going.” I clear my throat around the sudden onslaught of arousal that floods my system.
Cal pulls away, lips wet and swollen from Barret’s kisses, and turns towards me slowly. “Did you like watching me kiss him, Vi?”
Barret’s eyes immediately smolder, turning heated, as he glances between me and his friend with curiosity.
Honestly, I have no idea how I’m feeling right now. A part of me is jealous…mainly because I want to be in between them while they’re kissing. Like the vampire meat in a sexy sandwich. At the same time, those thoughts are dangerous to have. Extremely dangerous. Cal and Barret are two of my closest friends, and the last thing I want or need is my attraction getting in the way of that.
“Let’s go,” I squeak
, flames entering my face. Cal laughs heartily, patting Barret on the shoulder as the gentle giant steps up beside me. Pink dots both his cheeks as he wraps his pinkie around my own.
“You okay, Cheese Curd?” he asks softly, eyes focused straight ahead.
“I’m just peachy.” My eyes automatically flicker to his cock, which is still hard from Cal’s kisses. “Super duper peachy.” Did I sound like a strangled hyena? Fuck me.
“You’re prettier than a peach,” Barret says, his blush deepening. “Cal is more in the peach category.”
“I heard that!” the man in question exclaims immediately. “And I’m offended. What—or who—is prettier than me?”
“Violet,” Barret answers automatically, and god help me, but I swear I melt into a puddle of goo right then and there.
“Y’all are good for my ego,” I tease, releasing Barret’s hand to face them both. Walking backwards—and trusting they would stop me before I tripped over anything—I point first at Barret and then at Cal. “But keep talking. Boost my ego. Make me fly.”
“Make you fly?” Cal asks with a snort. “Really, Violet?”
“What? Isn’t that a saying?”
“You’re saying it, so yes,” Barret pipes in helpfully, and when I flash him a grateful smile, he positively preens. Cal merely pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It is not a saying. No one says shit like that.”
“Violet just did,” Barret points out, and I could kiss him. But I don’t, of course. Because we’re buddies and nothing more. Absolutely nothing. With a capital N. And a capital O. And a capital T. And a capital—
“Violet!” Cal screams abruptly, and I turn just in time to see Alex’s father point a dagger at my neck. His black eyes are swimming with pure, unrelenting darkness, like the deepest depths of the ocean. Pure madness and hatred reflect back at me. Alex stands behind his father, looking small and shaken with his pasty skin and tousled black hair. I can’t help but note that his mother doesn’t appear to be with them, and I feel a pang of sadness for the woman who has no doubt lost her life to these games.