Page 49 of God of Monsters

If it’s true what Remus says, then everything I’ve questioned and suspected about Titus makes sense now. The band at his throat. The way he fought the mutation so effortlessly, as if he’d been trained. I heard they were designed by Legion as a means of defense against the Ragers. Genetically modified, with both strength and agility, and speed to dispose of dangerous threats.

Only problem is, they viewed the Legion officers as threats, and promptly turned against them.

“How are you privy to such information?” The constant, knowing smile on Remus’s face always sets my teeth on edge with his questions.

I consider my next words very carefully before answering. “My father’s friend is a Legion officer.” The knowledge could either make me a friend, or foe. Marauders are the enemy, and therefore such a connection might be deemed worthy of death, but then, why keep Will alive? He must see value in him, somehow.

“Is that so? I happen to have a captured Legion officer down in the cells.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps you know him. He goes by the name Will.”

“There are a number of Legion cadets.”

“I never mentioned that he was a cadet.”

“I know the officers, and I don’t recognize his name, so I assumed.” Clearing my throat, I continue to watch him pet the bird. “You also managed to capture an Alpha. Impressive. I heard they don’t go down very easily.”

“Like any beast, it just takes the right poison. Titus was nearly dead when I brought him back here. In fact, I nearly had him tossed over the cliff, thinking he wasn’t going to make it, but Lisbeth, bless her heart, came through with the cure. Saved his life! I’ll admit, I don’t know much about them, aside from that they fight like lions. It’s sort of like having my own exotic animal.”

“I don’t know much about them, either. We’ve only heard that they’re wild. Unpredictable. And turned on their masters.”

“No need to fret over that. I’m sure you can attest that with a nurturing hand comes trust.”

“Yes, I can. Perhaps you might consider cots for their cells. I’m sure the concrete gets very uncomfortable.”

“Perhaps I will, my compassionate little Dove.”

By the time I leave this place, assuming I make it out of here alive, I’m going to burn that godawful nickname right out of my skull.

“Come on, I’d like you to take a walk with me before breakfast.” Climbing to his feet, he clutches the bird with one hand, and it squawks as he seems to press its bandage.

“Oops,” he says, and my muscles burn with the urge to sock him in his jaw.

“I can return her to her bed.”

“No. I like having something to pet. It’s calming. And I’m sure she could use a bit of fresh air. These cells tend to be damp and stuffy.”

He leads us out of the cell toward the back of the prison, where I’ve not yet ventured. Beyond a door there stands a courtyard that must’ve been a visiting area at one time, given the high fence around it and benches beneath trees. In the clearing, a massive figure stretches in the sunlight, tipping his head back, as if to drink it in. The wide expanse of his muscled back shifts and flexes, and I notice his shackles have been removed. At the sight of him, that stupid fluttery sensation kicks up again, and I clear my throat of the tickle in my chest.

Beyond him, two guards, Tom being one of them, halfheartedly hold their guns as if they aren’t worried by the Alpha who could snap their necks like a dandelion.

I’m told that’s how my father was killed.

When Jack brought the offending Alpha, believed to be the last in existence, back to Szolen, my mother, brother, and I were given the opportunity to stare my father’s murderer in the eye and determine his fate. My mother, always the good Christian, decided to spare his life in exchange for a lifetime of imprisonment, and so they kept him in an underground tank where he would never see sunlight again. Personally, I’d have chosen to have him killed, but I suppose he suffers more for his crimes now than a quick death could ever offer.

My father always called them soulless creatures who lack empathy and emotions. Human machines engineered to kill on command. His stories of hunting them on the Deadlands always made me fearful of the beasts, and had I known they still roamed about, I might’ve taken more caution around Titus. Even in chains.

But my father also spoke of the gypsies that way, too. Savages he believed were fortunate for the opportunity to live in a community like Szolen. I loved my father dearly, but even he wasn’t immune to the ignorance that plagued my childhood, as I learned when I befriended a number of gypsies and found them to be intelligent, caring people. Yes, there were bad apples in the bunch, just like in any group of individuals, and maybe that was the case with the Alpha who killed my father. Maybe he was the bad apple.

Jack told me the few unaccounted for Alphas had fled east, and all others in the area were captured as prisoners, or killed on the spot. I’ve no doubt Remus is telling the truth about Titus, though, based on what I witnessed in the arena. He’s an Alpha.

The same breed that murdered my father and countless other Legion.

But are all of them heartless killing machines?

As we pass, Titus turns to the side, his square jaw shifting, as if he’s contemplating attack right now. I hate that the first thing I notice is how the sunlight shimmers over his skin, emphasizing the ridges and valleys of his carved body.