Page 67 of Monstrous Travels as Wicked as Sin

Leo made his way to the door on command, but Althea remained where she was.

A sick clawing inside Percy’s gut made him even less tolerant than he ordinarily would have been, allowing him only the rough utterance, “Now”.

Yet she remained, sneaking a sidelong glance at Joe. “What happens next?”

“He’s going to torture me,” said Joe, just as calm and easy as if he were discussing the weather. “Because that’s how Percy Ashdown treats the people he says he loves.”

Althea, caught between Joe’s blasé response and Percy’s returned glower, said, “He won’t.” But the brand new metals on the bed shone bright and evil in the dull light. “Percy, you won’t, will you?”

“Out,” he repeated.

“No.”

Joe said, “What do you think, Althea? If you love someone, you don’t hurt them. You do what you can to make them happy, right?”

Raising her hands to her hips and her chin in defiance, “That’s exactly right.”

“But the funny thing is, he won’t let me drink you.” The creature watched the boldness fade from her face, while Joe’s expression kept the same sardonic grin. “How long do you think it will be until he cracks?” He glanced pointedly down at his bandaged arm. “How many holes and slits do you think Percy will put into this body before he serves you up on a platter to save Joe?”

Althea jumped at the touch of Leo’s hand on hers, pulling her gently towards the door. “We should go.”

“You should run fast and far, Althea,” the beast agreed. “I wouldn’t trust Percy. And you know you shouldn’t either.”

Percy’s stomach rose and squelched with a whiff of the lunch Leo still held in his hand. He staggered after the pair as Althea fled and Leo retreated, scowling at Joe all the while. He turned the corner with them, pulled the bedroom door shut, and leaned a shoulder into it for support.

Leo, taking in Percy’s damp, sallow skin, stated the obvious. “You don’t look well.”

Percy twisted to let his back take his weight against the wall, closing his eyes to fight off the nausea. “He’s poisoning me. And he’s going to poison you too unless you get away from him.”

“Then you need to leave with us.” Leo attempted to take Percy’s arm, and was immediately shrugged off.

Percy reached into his bag, saying, “I’m sorry I don’t have time to make this any less traumatic for you, Althea, but meet Cleo.” He pulled the skull out and held it up to Althea’s horrified face.

“What is that?”

“I told you, that’s Cleo. I need you to take her downstairs—out of the house, if you start to feel sick at all—and see what you can get out of her. Anything about Barmiston Hall, Molly Tulloch, The Witch’s Head Inn, just how the fuck she endedup in that skull, and what the hell she’s been keeping in her basement.”

Leo, knowing he should be the one to diffuse Percy’s madness, being the more experienced of the two, could muster up only, “What?”

On a gasping breath of sickness, “And don’t let him see her. Bring her directly back to me, in this bag, and don’t let him know you have her. You’ll have to do it all in yes or no questions, and you’ve got ten minutes.” He shoved Cleo towards Althea. “Take.”

With tentative fingers, Althea held her first human skull. Studying the lifeless object, she whispered, “Cleo?”

“Herrrrrrrrr,” the skull breathed.

Althea squealed and dropped the bone, which was caught in Percy’s long fingers. “And if you don’t get her back to me, intact, within ten minutes, I’m feeding you to Joe.”

Leo slapped his arm. “That’s not necessary.”

“It was a joke.”

Leo shook his head. “I don’t think you realise how scary you are right now.”

With a sickly smile, looking like a man who’d been inhaling shoe polish for three days straight, Percy slurred out, “Althea doesn’t think I’m scary.”

“You’re terrifying,” she said.

“Am I?” Percy let out a tired laugh. “That’s good. Because I’ve got a lot of torturing to do. Wish me luck.”

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