Page 187 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

DEATH’S RAPTURE

REBEL MOXIE

Lilah

“Last call.”He doesn't have to raise his voice for those lingering to hear over the hum of scattered conversations. Bodies begin to shuffle, but I don't move from my spot at the end of the bar.

The Ferryman is an establishment that operates outside the parameters of conventionality, on the outskirts of a quaint—as cliche as it is—town that looks far prettier in the light than it does in the shadows. Few are truly aware of what is hiding in plain sight, but the town’s not named Styx for nothing.

“Boss, it's still early!” Darrow, a regular, slurs even though he, too, makes his way to the door. By normal standards, closing before midnight is early for any bar, but it’s just after 10 PM and no one questions it. After all, this is how it’s always been.

Boss runs this place. It might not be his given name, but it’s the one he gives and goes by. A man of few words, and limited tolerance for the living, he doesn't respond to Darrow, and I have a feeling Darrow didn't expect one either. No one does.

Darrow stumbles and reaches out, using me to regain his balance. I tense when his hand squeezes my shoulder, and risk a glance at him. “Alright there, Darrow?” I ask. He’s harmless, but Boss’s intolerance for the living may have rubbed off on me after so many years.

Darrow leans in close, his face flushed and stares at me intently, “Lovely Lilah, you should smile more,” he mumbles through his intoxication, “so pretty if you smile…” his hand comes up like he’s going to pet my head.

“Darrow.” Boss’s voice booms and Darrow flinches. He pulls his hand away from me and mock salutes while his friends scoop him up under the arms and carry him the rest of the way out.

When the door closes behind the last person, I stand and slip on my apron, tying it around my waist. I step behind the bar and brace myself for the suffocating power that Boss uncloaks once the mortals have left.

“Lilah.” Decades of nights just like this one, and he doesn’t need to say anything more than that.

“Yes, Boss.”

We work in tandem. He pulls out and swaps various bottles of drink while I wipe down the bar top and make a sweep through the main room—wiping down already clean tables, righting chairs and stools that aren't actually out of place.

I pause briefly in front of the mural that spans the entire length of the back wall. A skiff is tied at the shore of a dark river that seems to expand beyond the wall itself. The sheer size of it feels like it could engulf you just by looking at it… and it very nearly did once.

As the clock strikes 11, the mural ripples along the exposed brick causing the building to shutter. Voices pick up in the distance, growing closer with every swing of the clock’s pendulum.

At least the dead don't tell me I'd be prettier if I smiled more, like the living do.

Hallis

Lilah stands tall—belyingher short stature—and doesn’t hide how openly resigned she is to her fate as hostess to the recent and not-so-recently deceased that make their way into The Ferryman. She never looks at anyone too long as we pour into the bar, yet when her eyes fall on me they hold and my skin tightens in longing at her attention.

Every night she's here, waiting on those of us who are ready to move on, but are thirsty for one final moment on this plane,alongside the many that just aren't ready—or cannot pay the fee—for what comesnext‌.

He makes us feel like we’ve got a choice, but in the end, he ushers every one of us over, eventually. In some instances, his brother appears to coerce those of us who have overstayed the grace period given.

Iwasready. One last drink and then I’d be on my way to whatever came next, until my eyes landed on her. In that moment, it felt as though a tether formed and I could no longer move past the icy grey eyes and down-turned, full lips that beg to be… worshiped.

I no longer cared about what camenext, all I wanted wasLilah.I worry that I’ll leave without ever confronting this unexplainable draw I have towards her.

“Are you going to talk to her or just haunt her for the rest of your afterlife?” Alouette asks as she slides into the booth next to me. I tap her glass with mine and take a drink, purposely avoiding her question.

“He’s watching you again.” I respond instead. She scoffs and throws back the entirety of her drink, slamming the glass on the table, then sitting back and crossing her arms across her chest.

“He can look all he wants, but he knows I won’t give him a shred of my attention until he tells me why he refuses to let me through,” she grumbles.

Alouette has been coming to The Ferryman far longer than most, and no matter how many times she has tried to walk through that which allows any and all of us to cross over into thenext, she cannot. She has even begged Boss’s brother, who ignored her with one look from Boss. It’s as if she’s barredfrom leaving. The only one who would know for certain or even have that kind of power is the one attempting to pin her down with a stare that would cause anyone else to crumble under debilitating fear.

Lilah appears at our table, taking Alouette’s empty glass and replacing it with one filled to the brim. Alouette raises the glass, some of the amber liquid sloshing over the rim, in a toast towards Lilah before downing the entire thing. They have a silent connection, the closest thing to a friendship I’ve seen for either one of them in a place that is essentially a revolving door between the living and the not.

Lilah turns towards me and I get lost in the cool fog of her eyes. Resting my elbows on the table, that invisible tether pulling me subconsciously forward. My unbeating heart jolts when I see a twitch at the corner of her mouth. I crave her rare smiles.

“Hallis, can I get you anything?”

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