Page 87 of Blood

Dorian screams in agony. “My favorite shirt! It’s covered in blood!”

Frankenstein wrenches the arrow out of his shoulder and holds it to his nose, his eyes contemplative. He sniffs the tip. “Interesting. I believe I recognize the handiwork of this potion. My experiment, Frankie, created this, did he not?” Frankenstein’s eyes glaze over as he begins to speak rapidly, his words falling over themselves in his rush to release them. “It’s fascinating how he changed the configuration of the potion so it no longer has to be ingested but can be transferred through skin. Absolutely fascinating. Did he use a binding agent to do this? Oh. I must ask him...” Frankenstein taps his chin as he continues to mutter under his breath, but I zone him out.

Maybe today I’ll receive the answers that have been haunting me for years now.

“I’m impressed, Violet,” the White Stag says, his intelligent eyes locking on my mate. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem overly surprised by the turn of events. “Ask your questions. Gauge my sincerity.”

“Will you help us in the battle against Zeus?” Violet demands, placing her hands on her hips.

“Yes,” the White Stag answers, not an ounce of hesitation in his booming voice. “I saw your heart, and it is pure. You will make a fine ruler one day.”

“Are you kidding me?” Spidey screeches, her shrill voice blasting my eardrums. “You can’t seriously think this little bitch will be able to rule any of the monsters, let alone the world! Even with the runes removed from all the monsters, they’ll still hate her! It’s been ingrained within them since she was born! We should’ve killed the child as a baby!”

Spidey abruptly places a hand over her mouth, as if shocked those words left her mouth in the first place.

Frankie’s truth serum doesn’t just force people to tell the truth. It quite literally rips the truth from their bodies.

“There’s no way I’m fighting on the side of that degenerate,” Pan agrees with a scowl aimed in Violet’s direction. At least, I think it’s a scowl. It’s hard to tell, since his head is that of a goat.

If there’s one thing I can say for certain, it’s that I’m indisputably the most handsome man in the room. That does wonders for bolstering my dour mood.

“I don’t want to fight,” Dorian screeches, sweat dripping down his face. “Not for Violet. Not for Zeus. I just want to read my magazines and hide away from the world.” His lips pop open in shock. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“Yes,” Violet deapans.

“I’m not a coward! Promise,” Dorian pleads, trembling. His face turns red, and more sweat cascades down his cheeks in rivulets. “I just hate confrontation. And dirty hands. And dirty nails. Oh my god. Dirty nails are the worst.” He shudders.

“You won’t even fight if your son is on the front lines?” Violet narrows her eyes at the man.

Dorian gulps. “I know I should love my son, but it’s hard. It’s hard to love anyone more than I love myself. It’s the curse. Fuck!” Dorian places both hands over his mouth to stop his verbal vomit.

Violet looks seconds away from stabbing Dorian but peels her eyes off him to focus on Frankenstein. “And you? What is your stance on the battle to come?”

Frankenstein still appears lost in thought, but he snaps to attention at Violet’s words. “Oh. That’s easy. I’ll fight with you.”

All of us blink at him in shock. I don’t think any of us were expecting him to say that.

“Why?” Barret asks quizzically.

“Because my experiment is a genius,” Frankenstein confesses candidly. “I want to see the things he can accomplish in the future, and that can only happen if he’s alive.”

“That experiment is your goddamn son!” Violet hisses, her hands balling into fists.

Frankenstein shrugs, appearing non-repentant. He doesn’t seem at all ashamed or embarrassed by the confession we’re pulling from his lips, and I realize it’s because he truly doesn’t care.

“Maybe in your eyes, but in mine, I see a creature I created in a lab. I see a monster who doesn’t have a working heart or soul. I see a being that is nothing but wires and cogs.”

Red detonates on Violet’s cheeks, and I admit that I feel my own rage bubbling just beneath the surface. No one talks about my mate-in-law like that. No one.

Except for me.

But that’s only because I need all of them to remember who is truly the handsomest.

Tension rises in the air like a wave about to break, cresting and then falling, splicing apart against the jagged rocks lining the shoreline.

Violet takes a single step forward, her entire body vibrating with rage.

“You want to know what I see when I look at Frankie?” she asks in a deceptively calm tone. She doesn’t wait for Frankenstein to respond before forging ahead. “I see a man—a monster—who is as beautiful outside as he is inside. I see someone who’s warm and vibrant and alive. I see someone who’s not only intelligent but caring, someone who’s willing to do anything for his family and the people he loves. Perhaps you never saw that side of him because Frankie will never, ever love you.” Violet practically spits the word at the end, her chest heaving.

---