Page 25 of Mistletoe

“All monsters are dangerous.”

“That’s not strictly true. There are documented cases of beasts living ordinary lives with a partner, someone to keep them tame.” She loathed the wordsbeastsandtame,but it was the only thing her tired and creaky brain supplied.

“Anchors. Those cases are few and far between. All monsters are dangerous,” she repeated. The determination gleaming in her eyes might as well have been fanaticism.

This was not good. Nina wouldn’t rest until she captured a monster. Emma couldn’t let that happen. Hal might not be innocent—she didn’t know a thing about him, just his name—but he hadn’t done anything to justify being hunted.

She needed to protect him, that she knew. He had been in her barn on a cold, snowy night without a stitch on. Not even shoes. Did that sound like a fierce monster or a desperate man in a bad situation?

Nina studied Emma, no doubt registering how Emma’s heart sped up a touch when speaking of Hal, or how she clutched the blanket around her shoulders, imagining it were his arms.

“How about you stay overnight as my guest and see if there’s anything else you remember?” she said, taking the only lantern with her as she left.

Hal

Sweetwater Point

Hal waited until nightfall.Several things did not happen. Emma had not been released. He did not leave town.

It was a vexing situation.

In the dark, Hal made his way down to the street. Gas lamps created easily avoidable puddles of light. With the scarf wrapped over his nose and mouth, the hat, and his newly acquired coat, he moved in the shadows and remained undiscovered.

The streets were nearly empty. The theater was lit up like a beacon, bustling with music and patrons. Other taverns and saloons glowed in the night, offering a respite from the cold night air. Occasionally, a door opened, laughter and music spilled out, then vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Hal watched the sheriff’s office. He itched to burst through the doors and find Emma, release her, which made no sense. He did not know her. He was grateful for the meal and the clothing, but that was the extent of the obligation.

She gave him her name. He gave his in return. A fair trade.

He should leave town now, using the empty streets and the darkness to his advantage.

Yet…

He could not. She was imprisoned. It would not do.

Anger bubbled up in him, red and scalding. Was she in a cell, behind bars? What were bars to him? He’d break them easily. Everything about this place was flimsy. He would not have been surprised to learn the buildings were made of cardboard.

The sheriff’s office was wood and not brick. He could just punch his way through, bypass the cell altogether, and free Emma. Easily, if he knew where she was being held.

He had not heard her voice or caught the scent of her soap, yet he knew she was inside. He had no explanation for how he acquired that information.

The brawl at the tavern had been a mistake. He could not afford a repeat. For Emma’s sake, he should wait. Gather information. Develop a plan.

“Be useful for once, and don’t make the situation worse.”

Hal frowned. His brother spoke those words in a memory but he could not say why or when. It felt like a borrowed memory, ill-fitting and not truly his.

Or, damn his brother and his faulty memories to hell, he could smash through a wall and see what happened.

That one. That plan. That was what he wanted.

The sound of whistling alerted him to a passerby, derailing his destructive impulse.

Hal stepped back, blending into the shadows.

Wait. Observe. Then act.

He could do that.

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