Page 25 of The Monster's Desire

She fidgets around a bit.

“Thank you.” I try to smile. My face fails at its job. It ends up feeling more like a grimace.

“No problem, we’re so happy to have you,” she says, rushing me. My magic swirls around us in a light gray shimmery stream, but Scarlett is just a huggy person, and my magic is severely overreacting.

I pat her back placatingly and try to disperse my shadows before she notices them.

“I’ve got to get back to it.” She nods back the way we came. “If you need someone to show you around town, just let me know. I’m happy to do it.”

“That would be great,” I agree. “Do you know where I can find the council building?”

She blinks like a deer in headlights for several long seconds. “You know...you should probably call and schedule an appointment. Or find Echo...Echo will help you.”

Who the hell is Echo? I don’t even get the question out before she’s scurrying away. I stare after her, open-mouthed. All right, that wasn’t weird or anything.

Christ, maybe I should call Octavia? This sanctuary city is nothing like any of the others I’ve been to over the course of my lifetime. Maybe they need to clear out the town council and install more effective leaders, if this is how the place is run.

I vaguely wonder what my friends think of this place.

Shelby and Carina moved here a few years ago. I was annoyed when they didn’t choose to move to Haven, but Shelby wanted somewhere with cooler weather, and North Falls definitely gets that.

I know they rented a small shop space somewhere in town, and they have a rental property.

Come to think of it, staying with them might be the way to go.

Letting myself into the small apartment, I take everything in. It’s not nearly as run-down as it appears from the outside. A small set of stairs off the entryway lead me down to a lower level with a bedroom and bathroom. It has dark wood paneling, which makes it look dated, but the furniture is obviously new and the carpet is clean.

The upstairs area is small, but it does have a kitchen, a dining room, living room, and a half bath.

I toss myself into one of the dining room chairs and bury my face in my hands. I need to call Nan and check in.

A loud, repetitive banging draws my attention to the back door. Or maybe that’s the main door? Who the hell knows? Because I don’t.

There’s no peephole, so I yank it open.

My jaw falls. It’s not Scarlett, that’s for damn sure. There is a preternaturally still man standing poised to knock again. His dark hair is thick and long on top. It falls over his forehead in a purposeful way. The sides are shorter and clipped the same length as his beard.

“Echocio Diamonte,” he says in a droll tone. His thick lips purse, showing his displeasure with this entire exchange.

“That’s a fun fact,” I tell him once I’ve finally located my brain cells. “If you’re here for services, you’ve got the wrong office. I’m not on the books...” I pause to check him out again, and my mouth forms a word of its own volition. “Yet.”

Echocio takes a step back, the bored look finally faltering into straight-up confusion. Snorting a laugh, I move to close the door. A pale hand wraps around the edge before it can click closed.

“I’m afraid this conversation isn’t over.” He pushes the door open so that he can see me. The man hasn’t even pretended to breathe while in my presence. He’s a vampire; there’s no other possibility.

I don’t let myself think too carefully before uttering the words. “Well, come in, then.” I head back to the small dining table near the kitchen. I take a seat and look at him expectantly. “So, you told me who you are, but why are you here?”

Echocio takes a seat without making a single sound. It’s unnerving as hell. Most vampires that I’ve interacted with do their best to blend in with humans. They fake the shit humans do that becomes noticeable when they’re missing...like blinking and breathing. He does neither, which means he’s an ancient vampire, or he just truly does not give a single fuck.

Come to think of it, neither of those are great signs, considering I just invited him into my home. Or rather, the place I’m staying for the next undetermined amount of time.

“You may call me Echo. I’m your bodyguard for the duration of your stay,” he says in that tone that indicates he could not be more displeased with our newfound relationship.

“That’s unnecessary.” My eyebrows rise, and I grimace while simultaneously trying to force a polite smile.

Faking excitement isn’t one of my life skills.

Doing stupid shit?

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