Page 40 of Monster's Secret Baby

I straighten my apron, professional mask firmly in place. "We have fresh bread and stew left."

His smile spreads too wide across his face. "How quaint. Human food for human stomachs." He glances around the empty restaurant. "Quite the... establishment."

Something slithers beneath his skin when he moves, like shadows wriggling under his flesh. I've seen corruption before—living in New Solas exposed me to it—but never this advanced in someone still walking and talking.

I should tell him to leave. Should grab Brooke and run upstairs. But I'm stubborn and I don't want to stir trouble.

"I'll bring you some stew."

His hand catches my wrist as I turn. His grip is ice, fingers pressing into my pulse point.

"Pretty little thing, aren't you? For a human." His thumb strokes across my skin. "So delicate. So... fragile."

I jerk my hand away. "I'll get your food."

Behind the counter, Brooke giggles as her sugar cube tower collapses. The sound—so innocent, so pure—draws his attention like a predator spotting weaker prey.

"What's this?" His head tilts at a sickening angle. "A little lunox?"

"My daughter." I position myself between them. "She's just helping before bedtime."

"Mama, I'm building again!" Brooke calls out, oblivious to the danger sitting ten feet away.

The nymph leans forward. "Children are such fascinating creatures. So full of... potential."

The way he says "potential" makes my skin crawl. I've heard that tone before, from xaphan who see humans as experiments rather than people.

"The stew," I mutter, backing toward the kitchen.

As I ladle the thick liquid into a bowl, my hands shake. Through the serving window, I can see him watching Brooke, that wrong smile growing wider. I need to get her upstairs, away from those eyes.

I return with his bowl, setting it down harder than necessary. "Anything else?"

"Such poor service." He doesn't look at the food. "Is that how you treat all your customers, human?"

"Just the ones who make my daughter uncomfortable."

His eyebrows rise. "I've done nothing to the child."

"Not yet," I say before I can stop myself.

He laughs, a sound like glass breaking. "Smart woman. Most of your kind are too stupid to sense danger until it's far too late."

I clench my fists at my sides. "Eat your stew and leave."

"So hostile." He sighs dramatically. "And here I thought we could be... friendly."

I catch a flicker of movement beneath his fingertips—a shimmer of magic gathering there, dark and oily like tainted water. The corruption has twisted his natural nymph abilities into something perverse.

"Brooke," I call, voice steady despite my racing heart. "Time for bed."

She doesn't hear me, too engrossed in her sugar architecture.

The nymph's eyes narrow, tracking my nervous glance toward my daughter. "She has no idea what's happening, does she? Children never do. They trust so blindly."

The magic between his fingers intensifies, coiling like a snake preparing to strike.

I freeze, caught between running to Brooke and facing the threat before me. The magic in his hand pulses, and I know, with brutal certainty, that whatever he's preparing to do will hurt—will hurt badly.

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