Page 9 of Monsters we Crave

His eyes truly reflected his Amarok lineage—vibrant, ice blue that seemed to hold the power and ferocity of his bloodline. I just wasn't as drawn to him. Despite his impressive appearance, there was something missing, the magnetic pull that Aidoneus seemed to command effortlessly.

“Thanks for the advice, but I'm doing just fine.”

He swirled the last of his drink in his cup, the motion slow, deliberate, before setting it down with a soft clink. “Korinna,” he began, his voice deep and velvety, drawing out each syllable of my name, “sometimes, the choices we make lead us down paths we never anticipated. And sometimes, those paths have a way of circling back.”

He reached into his suit pocket and withdrew his wallet, a genuine leather drachma pouch. He tossed four silver drachmas onto the counter, more than enough to cover their drinks. The circular silvery coins glittered under the café lights.

He then dropped two gold drachmas into the tip jar, making it clear that this wasn’t just payment or any ordinary gratuity, but a statement. His eyes remained locked with mine, daring me to comment.

“I’ll see you soon.” With one last lingering look, and that ever-present air of confidence and control, he got up, his chair scraping softly against the floor. Jae-Hee followed suit, giving me a curt nod. As they walked out, the door chime echoed eerily in the now-silent café.

I was left with a heavy sense of foreboding and his cryptic warning.

As I locked up, a tension that wasn’t there before wrapped around me, turning every shadow into a lurking threat. Two Triad heirs had just walked into my workplace as if it were the most normal thing in the world. I couldn’t make sense of it.

As I made my way to where I’d parked with Thea by my side, I adjusted my cardigan over my uniform—a chic, knee-length dress made of breathable, dark material—almost black. My Lunar Permit hung around my neck and emitted a faint glow. It was the only thing that allowed me to be out so late after curfew.

Being caught without this by one of the city’s Enforcers wouldn’t end with a minor infraction. There would be far-reaching implications that could dramatically alter the trajectory of one’s life. If an Enforcer on patrol didn’t come across you, there was always the chance of being caught at a checkpoint.

I wasn’t sure how members of the Viel, the rebel group that pitifully attempted to undo the Triad’s fortified hierarchy, were ballsy enough to network at night. There were citizens of the sector that received a permit due to hours of employment, who applied for one and with approval paid monthly. Those permits granted them the freedom to go out to the establishments that operated with a Nocturnal Pass.

Other than that, there really was no way around it. The method to which permits were crafted made them next to impossible to duplicate or forge. If a rebel was caught with one, their level of punishment would be so much more severe than ours. That’s if they weren’t executed then and there in cold blood. They knew all of this before deciding to take the risk.

It wasn’t just the Enforcers or sector surveillance cameras they needed to be wary of. Antheia, while portraying an image of modest grandeur during the day, had a dark underbelly that was always bustling by nightfall.

There were the Cabals, various factions that handled different tasks for the Triad. Everything from initiations to trafficking to peddling drugs. Each of them was unquestionably loyal. Rumor had it there was a faction solely dedicated to establishing dominance and gathering intel specifically on rebel movements and anyone else that wasn’t being discreet enough in their refusal to conform.

And then there were the sector vagrants.

Those sick fucks were like cockroaches. They had managed to be resilient and disgusting as ever, even after the carnage this city was subjected to. You could tell them apart from the others by the various masks they wore, some more disturbing than others. They tended to engage in hunts and create trap zones.

The unpredictability of the Enforcers was the singular wild card they had to watch out for. One night, a group of vagrants might terrorize a block with no interference whatsoever, feeling emboldened. The next night, that same group might be brutally eliminated. It was all too much for me to ever feel safe being outside after dusk.

I finally reached my Seraph, its pristine white finish gleaming like moonlight. An ambient glow began to emanate from beneath the vehicle, indicating its state of readiness. The car's advanced systems recognized me based on a range of passive biometric scans. A holographic panel projected onto the window, displaying my name with a simple greeting. Welcome, Korinna.

I placed my palm on the interface, and the car swiftly scanned my handprint, ensuring my identity. With a confirmation chime, the door slightly rose and popped open.

“Come on, Thea.” I ushered her inside first. She leaped in and went right into the back, placing her large body on the plush, cream-colored leather seat. I slid in after her and the door snicked closed, an automatic lock engaging. Sensing me inside, the interior lighting adjusted to a gentle hue, and my seat automatically contoured to my preferred setting. The dashboard lit with a blend of tactile surfaces and holographic displays showing the vehicle's status. I double-checked the Biofuel gauge and was relieved to see I wouldn’t have to stop and refuel.

I placed my hands on the steering wheel and the engine responded, activating with a gentle hum. I could use the onboard AI to navigate, but sometimes I needed to drive to help me think. I pulled away from the curb and headed towards home.

A part of me wanted to send a message to Ezra and ask him if he was okay, share with him what had happened tonight so that he had a heads up, but I hesitated. Given the Triad’s ability to tap into the communication networks and Aidoneus' direct questioning, who knew if Ezra was already being monitored? Actually, I would be surprised if he wasn’t. But did he already know? It was unlike him not to have reached out by now.

One of us had done something to capture the attention of Aidoneus, of all people. Within the Triad Four, and all of their widespread branches across the nation, the Maelstroms were the pinnacle of power. If this was about the encounter in the woods, then Ezra had nothing to worry about. If he’d done something, which I felt was more likely the case, there’d be no coming back from it. It brought a heavier thought to mind—the rebels.

Had Ezra gotten involved with them? I recalled our late-night conversations, where he'd occasionally mention his mother, her mysterious disappearance a few years ago still a fresh wound.

I sympathized with him, knowing all too well how it felt to lose someone and have nothing but unanswered questions, always wondering what happened to them. That was no reason to embrace the dangerous lifestyle of the Viel. I’d never once considered becoming a rebel for Grandma’s sake. That was the last thing she would’ve wanted.

So lost in thought, I didn’t see the woman running into the street until her scream shattered the bubble I was in. The Seraph’s collision sensor engaged, and the car came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing Thea from the backseat.

“What the…?” I trailed off as the woman rushed forward. The LED headlights illuminated her in a faint blue glow. One side of her face was so badly swollen it resembled a mylar. She was naked from the waist up, her chest completely exposed and discolored from bruising, and...was that blood? The piece of clothing she did have on offered no decency or protection—a black pencil skirt that had been savagely torn on one side, turning it into a mini barely covering the space between her legs.

She looked familiar. My mind raced to place her, and with a sinking realization, I remembered she worked at Eclat Bistro, a prestigious Nocturnal Pass restaurant. There was no way of knowing how she wound up all the way over here—she could have been taken or forced to participate in a hunt. Both scenarios were harrowing and explained her state of undress--the shape she was in. One side of her long blonde hair looked as if it had been torn out of her head by the root, leaving behind a bloodied clump.

“Help me!” She slammed her hands down on the hood of my car, staring at me through the windshield.

Every instinct I had urged me to leap out and assist her, shield her from whatever horrors had done this, but outside wasn't just dark; it was treacherous. Whispered tales of people lured into traps by anguished cries flashed in my mind. Judging from the way she looked and the pure terror in her pleas, this wasn’t the case. I reached for the door, but it didn’t open.

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