Page 83 of Monster's Bride


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I turn and race back down the stairs, yelling, “Hannah!” as I go. Then, when I do not get an immediate response, I roar again, “Hannah!”

And that is when I hear it. A screech.

My Hannah.

That which I have feared has come upon me, as some part of me always knew it would. I have not been strong enough to protect her.

But everything in me rejects the thought at the same time I burst into the room and find her grappling with—

Thing?

But I cannot care about the confusion at the specifics of the scene my eyes take in. There is danger near abouts. Perhaps Thing is working with the angel watching from the woods. He was angry at our imprisoning him for two hundred years and this is meant to be his revenge. Or he wants my consort for himself.

I do not care. The rage and fear in my heart have found a target.

Before my brother can react, I’ve flown across the chamber, ripped him away from my Hannah, and tossed him across the room.

“Abaddon!” Hannah-consort screams.

“Stay back!” I roar.

“No, stop!” she screams, but I’ve already leapt for my brother, wings flared wide and claws bared.

Thing has two of his six hands raised in surrender, but this motherfucker should have thought about that before he dared lay a hand on my consort.

I land by raking my clawed hand down his face, tearing the flesh of his cheeks into pieces. It is the one part of him that doesn’t look as monstrous as the rest of him.

Until now.

I tear into him again.

And again. And again.

I hear screams behind me, but I’ve gone black. I will destroy him for daring to touch—

She’s mine, and I will protect him.

Destroy. I have to destroy him.

Be who you are, dog. My father spits on my face after he has beaten me with the pipe made of hell-metal. It’s the only thing that can make a dent in us, along with the cat-o-nine tailed whip that has hell-metal pieces tied into the leather strips. And my Creator-Father does so like to make dents.

I have tried for so many years, and I always fall short. And so he must punish me. Perhaps one day, I will learn.

But not today.

Maybe tomorrow you won’t be such a miserable, disgusting fucking failure.

Then suddenly I flash back into the moment, with my brother who’s lying in a bloody, disgusting mess of torn flesh and smashed-out teeth.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” I scream in his face.

Thing gurgles his in own blood but still manages to eventually say, “I am… no… dog.”

I stumble backward from him as he coughs and turns over, spitting out several teeth. Then he continues, though he looks barely conscious. “And so… she sees who you are,” he finishes in a rush.

Cold horror seeps up my spine, a creeping premonition even before I turn around to look.

Hannah-consort isn’t there.

I run several steps forward and then stop and spin back toward Thing where he’s still squirming and groaning on the floor in pain.

“Where is she?” I demand.

He lifts up on his elbows, and then drops back down.

But I still hear his voice, as if it echoes through the room in mockery when he says, “Gone.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

HANNAH

Remus sets me down on the back stoop in the dark outskirts of St. Paul. I ran into Remus as I fled from Abaddon and begged him to fly me home. I think he agreed more to cause havoc with his brother than to help me, but I’m happy to take what I can get.

I immediately drop my hand to my belly.

I will not raise children around such a violent father. I don’t care what they come out looking like. They’re mine, too, and I will protect them. Even if it means protecting them from him.

“What is this place?” Remus eyes the small, squat little property in the St. Paul suburbs.

I wrap my arms around myself, still wearing only one of the ancient aprons. “My mom’s house.”

“I will wait among the trees until you come to your senses.” He steps off the porch, into the backyard.

“Don’t waste your time. I’m not going back.”

He shrugs. “Do not go back, then. Come with me. Be my consort. Together, we will raise the kit.”

I all but choke on my tongue at his suggestion. “Yeah, right.” I try to laugh it off.

But in an instant, he uses his wings to fly forward and is once again right in front of my face, manic grin wide. “Excellent. I will make you an excellent home to nest in while we await the arrival of the kit.”

I shove him backward by his chest. “I was joking because I thought you were. Jesus!”

His eyebrows come together, and I raise a finger in his face. “Don’t fuck with me, Remus. I’m a pissed-off pregnant lady, and if you try to kidnap me or some shit, I will be so angry, I will find a way to slit your throats in your sleep.”

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