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Whatever it is, it’s powerful though, and monkey-man flies back from her, smashing into a tree and crumbling to the ground. Without any direction from me, she walks toward the other monkey at the base of the tree with a confident stride and her lips in a tight line. He’s starting to stir when she kneels down over him. But when she touches him, the glow in his eyes dies, like a candle being snuffed out, and I have no doubt that the monkey himself is dead. D-E-A-D.
She turns on her heel and starts toward the last living money, but she stops halfway to him. I wait for her to keep going toward the third, but it’s like she’s waking up from a dream and finds herself sleepwalking. The confidence is gone from her face, and her expression is confused and maybe even afraid. She looks at her hand, open-mouthed, twisting it, palm over then knuckle up.
“Wh-what was that?”
“You don’t know?” I ask, surprised.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know how that’s possible…”
Yeah. I feel the same way. Whatever just happened was like nothing I’ve seen before, or even imagined, and we’ve been fighting these assholes for longer than I can remember. I know for sure Phantom and Onyx aren’t going to believe any of this.
When she glances at me, she asks, “Should I touch the third one?”
Honestly, I can’t think of a reason not to.
I shrug. “Go ahead.” Partly because I want to see it again. Seriously. It’s better than any parlor trick to see creatures that have been torturing us for so long get snuffed out from the touch of a tiny fae woman. But partly because I want to confirm that everything I thought just happened actually did.
She draws her shoulders back and gives a nod, before marching the rest of the way to the monkey. Again, she looks between it and her hand, as if she’s not sure which thing is scarier, but then kneels down beside it. I see her take several deep breaths as the monkey begins to stir. Some unexpected instinct makes me hold my breath. If it tries to hurt her, I’ll be there in an instant, and I’ll make it wish it had never touched my mate.
But I need to give her a chance to try out that light thing again...
Before the monkey can fully sit up, she lays her hand on him and the red light in his eyes fades away just as fast as with the first one. But instead of pulling away, her hand remains on him, and her brows draw together.
Within a few seconds, the fucker actually bursts into flames.
“Holy shit.” Her whisper in the now-silent forest mirrors my thoughts exactly. I don’t know if she knows what this means, but we need to figure out what to do about it.
I nod to her, gesture for her to join me so we can get back to the others. But as we pass the last body of the monkeys, it turns to ash, just as all rot monkeys from the shadow world do. The trolls are worth enough to the king that if left alone here, they’ll come back to life, just like they do in the shadow realm, but not the rot monkeys. They simply turn to ash.Everytime.
“Is that… normal?” she asks.
“With the monkeys, yes. The grave trolls are... more complicated to get rid of.” She doesn’t need to know about the beasts coming back to life if we don’t burn them, she seems scared enough.
We go to where the other moon shard was left by the monkeys. And just like the one in my belt, it glows brighter and brighter the closer Ann gets to them.
“Those are beautiful,” she whispers.
“Beautiful and terrible.” I lean down, pick it up, and tuck it next to the other moonstone.
The shards we collect are hidden by Phantom. We’re the only shadow beasts that know where they’re concealed, because the power within them could tempt any man, even men with good hearts. And not all our shadow beasts are as bound by honor as they once were. So, these will go with the others, in a place the Shadow King can never find.
As we walk, she continues looking at her hands. I don’t know if it’s for my benefit and she already knows what she is, or if she’s legitimately confused by what she saw and what she did.
Neither of us speak, though, until we get back to the cave. Onyx has one of the trolls thrown over his shoulder, and his broad sword back in his belt. We’ll burn and bury him in the pit at the edge of the forest before morning comes. I’m not looking forward to it though. Trolls smell like a sewer when they’re alive. Burning them doesn’t help the stench, but we don’t have a choice. The trolls can’t be allowed to regenerate.
At the beginning of this war, we didn’t realize just how durable they are. We knew that in the Shadow World the trolls were formed by the bodies of various dead creatures and could die over and over again. I guess we shouldn’t have been surprised that they could find a way to come back here too.
Even if getting rid of them for good is irritating.
But any day we can send a troll back to The Wasteland, the better. Onyx drops his troll with a thud that echoes through the trees and cocks his head at me. I sign the story then repeat it again for Phantom out loud, who’s already taken his troll to the pit.
I don’t bother keeping my voice low. Ann was there. She knows what she did.
He looks her up and down and doesn’t speak. Onyx purses his lips and signs at me. “We should get rid of her now. Before she kills one of us and before the king hears about her.”
He’s probably right. He usually is. Ann’s power to kill the rot monkeys so easily, along with her ability to make the moon shards glow could turn the tide on this war, which will make her even more of a target to the king. But a part of me can’t stand the thought of sending her away, not just because of our mate bond, but because the king might find her at home just as easily as he could find her here.
“We can’t just get rid of her.” Before I’ve finished the sentence, she lifts her head and stares at me like I’m the one who made the suggestion.
Watching her handle those rot monkeys was actually one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. All she did was touch them. It’s like this tiny, beautiful woman has a strength that doesn’t come in muscles and tactical moves, but is just as important. If not more. And that’s sexy as hell, and also a little scary.
“Ann…” I begin, trying to find the right words.
But instead of talking to us, explaining what she knows or doesn’t know, she stalks into the cave, head high, back straight. She turns to stare for a second and there’s no doubt that if there was a door, she would’ve slammed it.
