Page 54 of The Monster's Mate

I jump at the sudden shrill clang that threatens to burst my eardrums as it rings through the house like an emergency panic alarm. Isabel’s house phone rings so rarely that it always startles me when it does sound. I’ve gone back and forth with whether to set the volume to low so it’s not so scary—or to high, in case I miss a call from Sam, about the only one who calls me.

In either case, my shaking hand reaches out for the receiver, my heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline.

“Hello?”

“Isabel?” A man’s deep bellow.

“Y-yes?”

“Good day to you, ma’am. This is Brother Arnold from the congregation of The Risen. We won’t need your services this weekend. The church will be running functions at the crack of dawn and ending very late. We’ll expect you Monday night as usual, though.”

“Okay. That will be fine.”

“Thank you for your service to the Lor—”

A click ends the call suddenly, which is odd.

“Hello?” There’s dead silence in my ear. Maybe he didn’t end the call at all. Maybe it’s the service.

I depress the receiver a couple of times, but there’s no dial tone. So, it’s on my end.

Frantically, I look around the house. There’s a dim light coming from the lamp, so not a power outage.

Okay, don’t panic. I’ll wait until it gets dark around eight, another hour or so, and if it’s still not working, I’ll just sneak over to the church and relay a message to Sam. I know their phone works since he just called me.

I have the sniffles.That was the last code to alert her that something weird is happening, but I’m not sure if it’s an emergency. Maybe I can amend it to say, “I have the sniffles but my phone isn’t working at home?” Or will that confuse her? Will she rush over and risk her parents or Duke finding out that she sneaks from the house? Will they follow her?

Or worse, has something happened with the plan? Isabel and River were coming to break up the political party. Did that happen? Did something go wrong? No one came by to see me, to let me know what was going on. Of course, I know the best thing for me would be to leave me out of it. To avoid being followed here, but right now I feel alone and anxious and paranoid.

I’m on pins and needles until the sun finally disappears. I obsessively check the phone every few minutes, but it’s still dead.

I’m more cut off from everyone than ever.

Grabbing one of Isabel’s hooded cloaks, I slip out the front door, locking it behind me before sliding the lone key into my bra. Even if I lose it, I’ll be okay.

Sam and I came up with a back-up plan when Isabel left the planet. I have a spare key buried in the tulips. It’s not something that can be found easily because it’s never used, so I don’t run the chance of someone watching me and seeing a secret hiding spot for keys, like a fake rock or a plant. And it wasn’t a problem when I lived with Isabel because someone was always home.

But just knowing if anything happens, and I can get away, I don’t have to worry about how to get back. I can hide somewhere, quietly make my way home when I’m not being followed, and know I can always get inside by searching for the buried key.

I hurry along the darkened path into the communal grounds. The church doesn’t have the doors open, which means it’s not in use. Common enough for a week night. I head toward the back of the church, where there’s a keyless entry, and punch in the maintenance code. I’ll make a quick phone call and leave.

The church is dark as I head toward the back office. Because it’s in the back and has darkened windows, I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing someone inside, so I flip the light on.

And freeze.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

The voice I’ve heard a thousand times on the news sends cold terror racing down my spine.

He’s found me.

I’ve never seen Duke Milinazzo in person. I’ve studied pictures to recognize him. And I realize most pictures are doctored to look our best. But, in real life, he looks… crazed.

His hair is cut and styled to be light and fluffy, but looks like he slept on it and now, a day later, it stands on end. It sticks straight up at the crown, possibly from running his hands through it, but a huge, sprayed piece flips down over his forehead. His eyes are brown, like mine, darting back and forth. His teeth are overly whitened, I guess to make him seem trusting? Like maybe white teeth are the opposite of the aliens we’re matched with, who have transparent yellow teeth. Kind of pretty—like shiny, polished amber. It’s clear he’s wealthy, his clothes are as nice as Samantha’s and I’ve been in her house. I know how well-to-do her home is.

“So, I was right,” Duke whispers as he stands. “You did manage to team up with Isabel. That vindictive little bitch.”

“You know who I am?” Somehow that shouldn’t hurt but… it does.

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