Page 30 of Becoming Monsterous

At my feet, the she-wolf growls. I reach over to put a hand in her fur, calming her. Beside her, the hunter stares relentlessly into the crowd of monsters, his bow held in one hand, an arrow loosely clutched in the other. The stillness of his pose hides fast reflexes and impossible strength.

He could notch that arrow and put it through the Colossus' eyes in a second.

Too bad he can't do the same to the Magistrate. The contracts that bind us prevent us from killing the summoners—or our powers from killing them. The hunter is one of my powers, as is the wolf. Neither will even be able to so much as scratch him.

Ellie could kill him. That's why it was a surprise he ever let her join Occult House. Maybe this was his long-term plan.

Or maybe he didn't realize at first that his conduit had landed on her instead of one of his lackeys. He must not have feared Medusa's spirit.

The summoners always did like to underestimate the demigods and the monster-born deities. They felt they were weaker than true-born deities. Even the inherited gods, like Aphrodite and other gods and goddesses worshipped by mortals, didn't scare them much.

That's why they killed our old gods first. My hand tightens in the wolf's fur at the thought of their passing, and she growls in response to my anger.

The Magistrate seems to have come to an agreement with Dorian that they'll each languidly approach each other while speaking loudly to be heard across the distance between them. It's Dorian's turn to approach, to the summoner is currently gazing out onto the monsters, no doubt counting which ones are enslaved to him—and which ones soon will be, if he finds a way to buy or borrow their contracts.

His eyes land on me, then pass slowly over. He doesn't even glance at my fierce warriors, the wolf and the hunter. They pose no threat to him, after all.

Feeling a little foolish, I flick my wrist out and summon them back onto my skin. The wolf leaps first, shrinking down and digging her claws into my arm. After her, the hunter follows, racing across my skin to chase the wolf. He gets distracted when the deer crosses his path, and I feel his energy race towards my stomach and chest.

I wish that I could summon all my tattoos and set them on the summoners to tear them limb from limb.

"You seem tense," Aleron says, sliding up to me. Beside us, Lise and Ellie are conferring in low voices, occasionally giggling or throwing furtive glances our way. "Tell me you're not scheming again. We both know that you won't be able to take Percy down."

Percy. That's the Magistrate's name. It's easy to forget sometimes that he's also a man.

"Do you think we'll ever be able to join together long enough to take them down?" I motion towards the other houses. "Sure, we get along well enough with Greymark, when we aren't at each other's throats. And Magna House has similar goals to ours. But Brute? Anima? God forbid, Osseus?"

The threat of the monster houses has passed—now, it's clear that the summoners were our real threat all along. This infighting has only served to weaken us, while in the other room, they prepared for war.

We should come together instead of pulling apart. But each time we've fought with the summoners, we've lost, because they were able to turn us against ourselves.

Some of the gods who died in our wars died at the hands of their children.

"I don't know if we'll ever come together," Aleron responds, his voice flat and resigned like always. "I used to think there was a chance. If even humans like that seance witch can see our point of view, why not the others? That was before things went... pear-shaped."

Pear-shaped is one way to describe our endless years trapped in the Shadow World for breaking a contract and trying to be free.

Aleron has a point about the humans who straddle the line.

I still don't trust Jean Kincaide, and for good reason.

Madame Renoire is more trustworthy for no other reason than because she has a lot to lose. If the summoners want to, they can always tie her up in a contract. For good or ill, she's with us.

So is Dorian for that matter, though he sometimes doesn't act like it. We all know that he's likely to start aging again and be forced under a lifelong contract if the summoners start a war. The power he hides under his cold human face is too immense for them to ignore for long.

And the summoners don't respect him, even though he's been chosen as our de facto leader. Something made obvious as he approaches the Magistrate, inclines his head to him respectfully, and grudgingly holds out his hand in a gesture of good faith.

Percy doesn't even look at him.

Instead, he turns to all of us with an arrogant smile on his face. Speaking in a booming voice, he uses some kind of magic spell to force his words into all our ears so that wehaveto listen to him.

"As the leader of our clan of summoners, we came here today to speak to all of you. We're thankful that you've saved us the trouble of opening multiple portals," he says this like he's congratulating a child for wiping shit off the floor, "and are grateful that you trust some of our own to aid you."

His eyes go towards Jean, and he smiles at her warmly, which puts my hackles up. Jean just stares back at him—she may be one of them, and willing to kill Ellie, but she doesn't love Percy, that much I know.

He also looks over at Lise briefly with a warm expression on his face, which makes me suspect her of being some kind of double cross. But no doubt that's what he wants me to think. If her information is wrong, or worse, planted, we could wind up on a wild goose chase.

I know Percy better than he might think, though. He would never put his trust in a monster-cursed woman like Lise. He'll play around with us by letting her join his summoner meetings, and even treat her like she's on his side, but ultimately he'll never trust her.

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