Page 169 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

He huffs his discontent.

“Okay, what about Jet? Or Midnight?”

His pitiful, small snarls make me smile.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” I stocked my van’s kitchenette with enough food to last a week. There must be something in there for my new friend who trots at my feet.

A deep growl comes from behind us, making the hairs on my arms stand up. The little dog barks a yip big enough to make him bounce on his paws.

That’s no animal, no ghost, no anything I’ve heard before.

The howl that comes next is even more terrifying. I scoop up my tiny friend and run. Adrenaline pushes me faster, my breath burning in my lungs because god knows I don’t bother with a gym. These curves are fueled by coffee, carbs, and chocolate. No cardio necessary. Sure, my figure might not be popular on fashion runways, but my fans adore my fabulous look.

Obviously, whatever is chasing us? Not a fan.

Hugging the dog close, I round the last flight of stairs. My chest aches, my legs cramp, and I’m seriously regretting my choice of strappy sandals over sneakers, but I’m almost to the front door.

I glance behind us. Terrible grey beasts streak down the stairs, bones visible through their festering skin. Large antlers rise from their heads.

Shit.

What are those things?

Yanking at the door with shaking hands, I manage to tear it open as the vicious snarls and snapping come closer. The little dog jumps from my arms.

“No!” My scream comes out as more of a strangled gasp.

He’s so small his legs make my fingers look giant, and his entire body doesn’t come close to the size of one of their paws.

Except he doesn’t fall to his certain doom or become a snack for those scary beasts. No, he transforms into a three-headed glowing skeleton of a dog.

I freeze. “What the heck?”

Ghosts, I can handle. But this? What is he? Worse, what arethey?

Time crawls, slithering in sickeningly slow seconds as I realize these might be my last moments. Will Wren come for me again when I die this time?

The beasts lunge at my little grim reaper dog, at me, and I can’t move. The world spins, and I can’t find my center.

Deep violet pulses through the air, around me and over my freaky friend’s three heads. A heaviness settles me, and I know before I spin to confirm what my body has already accepted with absolute certainty.

He’s here.

Wren.

Wren

Hayden looksat me as though she’s waiting for me to let her die.

Not a fucking chance.

I wrap her in darkness, shielding her eyes from the brightness of my magic and yanking her behind me as I tear apart the revenants who threatened her. Sometimes being a Render is tedious, cruel work that brings no satisfaction. But today, I delight in tormenting those who dared come after my mate.I rend the shattered pieces of them into smaller and smaller slivers until they are dust.

Hayden presses her hand to my back, and the ability to feel her touch in this form? It means everything.

“Am I still dreaming?” she asks.

“Does it feel like a dream?” My shadows swirl around her, brushing her skin.

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