Page 55 of The Monsters We Are

The vampires looked down at her, their bodies tense, their mouths open wide. Before any had the chance to strike, her monster took over.

*

Wynter stumbled forward as she came back to herself. She was on her feet, so she clearly hadn’t passed out this time. She wasn’t injured, but her skin and clothes were streaked with blood. Oh, grand.

As for the vampires, well, going by the large scattering of ashes they were all in fact dead. There was enough blood to suggest that her monster had brutally torn into them as it killed them. Its mood was still foul, though. Mostly because the entity was too close to Aeon for its liking. The monsterloathedthat place. It wouldn’t be happy to return unless it would be free to feast on its residents.

Damn, it was gonna take her a while to get back to Devil’s Cradle. It sucked that she had no way of contacting anyone to give them her location and assure them that she was fine. One touch to her soul would confirm for Cain that she wasn’t dead, but it wouldn’t tell him that she was safe. Hopefully neither he nor her coven would do anything stupid.

Had anyone even realized that she was missing yet? Maybe. Maybe not. Her coven would assume she was in the shed as usual. They might not notice she’d disappeared until they wondered why she hadn’t returned to the cottage at the end of the workday.

People would eventually notice that Wynter was gone. Some would soon be looking for her. They’d assume she’d been taken and they would try to find her. The problem was that they weren’t likely to comethisfar out, since they probably wouldn’t suspect that she’d been teleported anywhere. And even if they did, they wouldn’t manage to cover the distance in a hurry unless they used a teleporter—one who would probably aimlessly ’port from spot to spot in the hope of stumbling upon her.

One thing was for certain: she wasn’t going to simply wait here for someone to appear and rescue her ass. Not Wynter’s style. She’d try to make at least part of the journey home herself.

Well, she had no intention of making it on foot.

After magickly returning her sword to the wardrobe in Cain’s chamber, she walked among the blanket of ashes in search of something that Enzo had earlier dropped and—aha—she found his key fob. Soon, she was in the SUV . . . at which point she realized that she had no clue which direction she needed to head in. Figuring that following the tire tracks the vampires left behind would likely take her home, she did exactly that.

As she drove, she thought of all the things that Kali had told her. Things that Wynter wouldn’t have begun to guess at. Things that the deity had made clear that Cain and the other Ancients couldn’t yet know.

Wynter hadn’t reacted so well on learning just how many things had been kept from her. She’d cursed, she’d hissed, she’d even yelled. Kali thankfully hadn’t gotten pissed. She’d only calmly asked, “Can you tell me that my reasoning for withholding the information until now was not sound?”

The bitch of it was that, no, Wynter hadn’t been able to say that. Not when she could look back and see just how many decisions she might not have made if she’d known everything from the outset. A lot of things might have played out very differently.

Wynter also hadn’t been able to claim that the Ancients should be immediately made aware of all that she now knew. It didn’t seem fair that they were in the dark, and she hated the thought of keeping it all from Cain. But she understood why Kali had insisted on it. The deity was right to believe that the Ancients wouldn’t react well to what they’d soon learn. If they learned ittoosoon . . . well, the consequences wouldn’t be good.

Approximately three and a half hours into Wynter’s journey home, the SUV sputtered to a stop. She’d ran out of gas.Motherfucker.She slammed her hands on the wheel as she spat a string of curses.

Slipping out of the vehicle, she let out a heavy sigh and felt her shoulders slump. Walking the rest of the way really didnotappeal to her. It would take herdaysto get home.

God, all she wanted was to get a hug from Cain, see her coven, shower the day away, and then see to it that Shelia paid for what she’d done. Was that really so much to ask?

Figuring she should be at least grateful that the sun was close to setting and wouldn’t beat at her skin, Wynter rolled back her shoulders and began to walk. Until that moment, she’d never been more grateful for choosing immortality. It meant she could keep up a decent pace, wouldn’t tire as quickly, and had good enough stamina that she wouldn’t need to repeatedly stop to rest.

Still, her mood was super low. She’d been kidnapped. Attacked. Shot in the head. Learned some heavy shit. And now had no choice but to walk the fuck home.

More, she was all sticky from the blood that had matted her hair and dried on her skin. The smell of it taunted her nostrils and made her stomach lurch every now and then. To make matters even more annoying, the now-dry stains on her clothing had roughened the cotton, and it chafed uncomfortably against her flesh.

As she walked, she occasionally felt an otherworldly brush of air—an encouragement to keep moving, a reassurance that she wasn’t alone. Her monster wasn’t the least bit bothered by the situation. It was once more deep in slumber.

The sun soon set, and darkness gathered around Wynter. Still, she walked and walked and walked, only taking small periods of rest here and there. But eventually her posture stooped, her muscles began to weaken and cramp, and her dry throat felt so scratchy it almost hurt to drag air into her lungs.

The walk through a forested area was particularly shit. Especially when she could barely see. Branches slapped at her. Pine needles clawed at her. Rough tree bark scraped her skin. Her jeans got repeatedly snagged on thorns or the underbrush. Little rocks stabbed into the soles of her feet through her shoes.

More, her tired muscles burned like a bitch. At this point, she weaved more than she walked.

Licking at her dry lips, she was about to stop for a rest when she heard an almighty screech. Her head snapped up. And there in the evening sky was the source of the sound. It looked like a mere dot at first. But that dot grew bigger seriously fast as it flew closer.

A shaky smile splitting her chapped lips, she let out a blast of magick that would act as a flare, worried the dragon wouldn’t otherwise notice her. It responded with yet another screech, and then it was flying toward her. Staggering to a halt, she almost dropped to her knees in relief.

*

Waiting near the tunnel, Cainwilledhis consort to walk through it. He loped back and forth like a tiger in a cage. That was essentially what he was. A predator trapped in a prison. Helpless. Powerless. Caught up in an animal fury.

Seven hours. It had beenseven fucking hourssince he’d received word that Wynter was missing. It was possible that she’d been gone even longer, since her coven hadn’t thought to check on her until a potential customer went to the cottage asking if Wynter was inside.

The pressure to find his consort seemed to batter every cell in his body. It pushed him. Pinched him. Goaded him.

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