Page 6 of Monsters in Love

A gate with rusted hinges groans as it opens. Someone with an obsequious tone and slippery cadence speaks first. A second man responds in what sounds like grunts and…hisses?

It’s frustrating because I can’t understand any words, however, the tone transcends languages. A deal is happening and we are the products being bought and sold.

A few grunts later, rough hands grab my shoulders and the covering comes off of my head. I was face-to-face with a black smudge of a figure, so whatever happened to me is still affecting my vision.

Someone presses something cold against my neck. If I could move away from it, I would have, but I’m still somewhat paralyzed. Great.

It still feels like I’m looking through a black veil, but slowly, the world clears in front of me. The first thing I see is a strange creature. He wears a black tuxedo suit jacket complete with tails and a pocket square. No shirt, though, so his lean torso is bare. All the better to display the layers of gold necklaces festoon his neck.

Oh yeah, the bottom half of him is that of a goat. Small horns that curve backward over his obnoxiously beautiful curly hair complete the look and confirms that I’m descending into madness.

“Yes,” goat man says, sniffing at me. “This one is perfect. She’ll fetch us a lot. She must be first.”

I realize I understand his words where everything I heard before was gibberish. I work my jaw, trying to figure out if I could talk or not.

“Where—?” I squeak out. It takes great effort, but I inhale and try again. “What—?”

“Oh good. She hasn’t lost her ability to speak. Sometimes the venom works differently depending on what species. The females from Terra Prime are more fragile than others.” The goat man peers at me. “But, you’re not originally from Terra Prime, are you?” He gives me a sly smile, as if we somehow share an inside secret.

What’s that supposed to mean? From the context, I gather that Terra Prime means Earth. But, something is getting lost in translation.

The snake creature looms behind him with the red eyes boring down on me. “No, she’s not,” he hisses at me, a forked tongue darting out in the air. “She may reside on Terra Prime–Earth,” he says, as if spitting something gross from his mouth, “however, she is not Terran.”

Snake man wiggles his tongue at me and curls it back into his mouth. He tips his head back as if savoring what he tastes. “She is something else. I can’t identify where. Regardless, I have fulfilled the letter of the contract. I have not touched a native Terran. Otherwise, we would have ignored her.”

The goat man rolls his eyes. “As if you would have left her since you took this one.” He points to Adalyn, who shrinks into the corner of the cage.

The snake leers at her cowering form. “This one is a message.”

The goat man brays an obnoxious laugh. “You are a fool to continue this feud with the Taurines. I will not be culpable when they catch up with you. And they will catch up.”

“I would like to see them try,” the snake man snarls. He lunges at Adalyn in a lightning fast strike and wraps her in his coils, sniffing at her. “Yessss,” he hisses as his body undulates around her. “I’m going to enjoy squeezing you…just as your tight little body squeezes around me.”

Rage flares over my body. “Put her down,” I seethe. Anger must have given me strength. My voice finally returns. “Put her down. Now.”

Goat man stares at me curiously. “Agreed.” He snaps his fingers and two large minotaurs appear. One grabs a hold of the snake man while another one pulls Adalyn from his grasp and lays her back down next to me.

“You know the rules, Serge,” the goat man says. “You may be a little princeling among your people, but these are tributes now. And tributes are property of the Minotaur’s Labyrinth. If you want them, you will need to win them at auction just like anyone else.”

Labyrinth? Minotaur? This has got to play into some kind of drug-addled dream.

With another snap of his fingers, more minotaurs appear as if they linger in shadows until called upon. They herd us down a cavernous hall. Bas-relief sculptures and other interesting carvings decorate the walls. I would have loved to check out some of the artwork if I weren’t a tied-up prisoner.

“Don’t worry,” Adalyn says. “Bronn will find us.”

That name clicks into my memory. “Bronn? That was the person you were trying to call on your cell phone, right?”

She nods. “Yes. Don’t be afraid he will find us.”

It seems Adalyn is trying to convince herself as much as me. I’m not about to burst her bubble. If she believes this Bronn person is coming, then I’ll let her. It’s no different from my parents believing every kind of platitude about all things working out for the good.

Adalyn’s mantra that Bronn will find us is a lot better than having her break down into some kind of inconsolable mess. Lord knows I need a bit of reassurance as well. Especially when the guards slot us into individual cages.

They leave me for last, but instead of a cage, I’m being escorted into a separate room. The goat man is already there and positions me in the middle of the room.

What now?

Goat man’s eyes narrow at me. He slowly walks around me, his cloven hooves clip-clopping so I can mark his progress until he stands in front of me once more. He’s only a little taller than me, and if I focus on his face, I can barely see the short horns that curl into his hair or that the lower half of his body is that of a goat. His lashes are annoyingly full and curly, and I decide to hate that about him, too.

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