Page 120 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

“I don’t care.”

“I can’t get it out of you.”

“I don’t want you to.” Joe’s fingers slid into Percy’s hair. “I got you back. That’s all I care about. I got you back.”

“You did.” Two small words, but all he could get out to reassure Joe, as the chill fear of what Joe had done to himself, for Percy’s sake, began to overwhelm him.

Molly’s rasping and gargled words cut into his mounting dread. “It’s not what you think it is,” she said, head leaning back on the cold concrete of the grave, sucking in thin breaths. “Someone will find out. They’ll come for you. They’ll cut you down and take him away… Eternity can’t protect you. It’s life that you need to escape. Not death.”

“Are you still here?” Joe pushed himself to his feet, throwing a glare over his shoulder at the tall statue of the virgin Mary peeking over the tops of the trees. The place of the pyre that was meant for him. “Then maybe it’s time we had our own roast.”

Percy let out a half-shocked, half-amused chortle at the unexpected comment, but said, “Slow down there, Darkside.” He held out a hand, and Joe pulled him to his feet, his dagger-like eyes on Molly all the while.

Percy dusted off his expensive suit and straightened himself. He discovered his knife on the ground and took it up before setting his sights on Molly.

They all watched him, all except Molly, wondering just how far Percy would go. Nothing was going to kill her. The only viable option would be to disable her somehow. Would he tear her limb from limb? Take this head and mount it on a new wall in a newbar somewhere? Secret it away in one of the graves, just as she’d entombed Percy?

Joe hated her, violently, but even then, after everything, he was not without empathy, nor would he ever be. The story of the events that had led her to become what she was that day still rang in his ears, and a tired, bruised and bleeding hand reached out and caught Percy’s arm as he walked past.

Percy paused, his eyes met Joe’s eyes, and his heart just about beat out of his chest at the look on his face.

Joe and his saving the sad ghost bullshit.

Even after Bruges. Even after letting himself get possessed at Barmiston Hall. Even after he’d just watched Percy die at Molly’s hands.

Percy brushed gentle fingers over Joe’s, the slightest pressure acknowledging and reassuring. Then he slipped his dagger into the inner pocket of his jacket.

Looking rather like a slightly roughed up gentleman who’d just enjoyed a good ten hours of sleep, he bent down and scooped up his kitten, who purred loudly at his touch, working her way onto his shoulder. He settled down on the grass opposite Molly, and he explained, in a voice much like that of a brand new and not yet embittered university professor, “You’ll come back to my apartment. We’ll find you a new host. You’ll give my friend her body back. After you heal it.”

“I’m not doing shit for you,” she croaked, throat awash with the red that talking forced through the slit.

Percy’s vexed eyes sought Joe’s. Joe gave a little nod, Percy clacked his tongue softly, then pushed forward on a sigh. “Look, I’m really not in the mood to torture you out of there. I’m tired. You killed me, apparently. It looks like Joe’s just about done the same to you. So this is… This feels like a stalemate.” She turned her head a little further away in response. “Unless I take youapart piece by piece. But despite what you might think, I don’t want to do that.”

He thought over what he could say, thought over what he believed Joe wanted him to say or do, but more than that, he searched through his feelings—his true feelings about the whole mess they’d all found themselves in. How they got there. Every action that needed to slide into place for the lot of it to occur, a horror hundreds of years in the making and every person there in the cemetery that day caught in the crossfire of shots launched by cruel and idiotic men long since dead. He thought over all the things he’d seen and done with Joe those last few months, especially those last few weeks, and he said, “The problem is, I agree with you.”

He met her incredulous gaze with one that was sombre and grave, and he spoke softly. “I can relate to you in more ways than you know. I won’t pretend I’ve been through the same things you have, but I’ve wanted to destroy all of it. Every last bit. I’ve wanted to smash the lot apart, and a few months ago, I probably would have joined you willingly, had you asked nicely. But I’ve learned a thing or two since then.”

Allowing a sardonic smile, “What’s that? Play nice?” She looked down at her blood-coated fingers, and Percy felt all the anger simmering just below the weary, barely alive surface. “You’ve seen what happens.”

“No,” said Percy. “This is what happens when you don’t trust people who care about you. When you don’t let anyone in. It’s very hard to make it through this life all alone.”

Her brow narrowed, and she scrunched the bloody hand back down on her wound. She closed her eyes, waiting to heal, waiting for her powers to come back in full, or waiting for Percy to either attack or go away. Whatever might happen first.

But Percy revealed, “I met your familiar.”

Her reserve switched to disbelief, but the idea was clearly turning over in her mind that Percy wouldn’t have known to lie about that had it not happened. Still, she whispered, “You didn’t.”

“I did. And now I know what you did. You locked them in your basement. You promised you’d take them with you, didn’t you? You double crossed them, took the powers they gave you, and then you ran out, leaving them locked away in a demon’s body, starving.”

She shook her head bluntly. “No. I left them safe. If they get out— It’s what happened last time. People found out about us… That’s why they did it. I had to protect them. I had no choice.”

“Your familiar took Joe’s body, then they took my cat. I’ve spent a lot of time around the fucker, and they did a lot of damage. They did that trying to get back to you. Because they’re in love with you. And if what they say is true, you love them just as much.”

She scanned Joe, as though wondering if he still had about him somehow the proof that he’d been touched by her familiar. She found Percy’s eyes, and in a confiding, barely audible voice, shared, “I’m keeping them safe until I fix everything.”

“You can’t lock someone up to keep them safe.” He said it just as gently as though there were no argument or animosity or history of abject horror between them. “I’ve lived it, and I know it.” He brought the kitten down onto an arm, stroking her back as she nuzzled against him. “Listen to me. You have one person—one person who understands you. It’s more than so many people ever get in this life. One person who’d do anything for you. Kill for you, steal for you, tear the world apart for you.” He looked over at Joe, ever-blooming adoration in his eyes. “That’s true love. That’s not something you walk away from.”

Molly leaned forward, and when she spoke, she was more earnest than any of them had ever seen her, as though desperatefor Percy’s acceptance of her words. “You can’t understand what happened to me.”

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