Monstrous- The Complete Collection

by Sawyer Black

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Get your shit and let’s go, but leave the fucking sword. I don’t think the hospital will like that.”

  She looked up in confusion, and Henry pulled Mike Serafino out of the dark, dressed in the good old hoodie and jeans.

  Aela pulled back with a sneer, turning to put the sword onto the bed. “Where are we going?”

  “I told you, to the hospital. Hurry up.”

  Henry returned to the living room, pacing behind the couch, staring out the window at the darkening night.

  Frank came around the couch to stand in Henry’s path. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?” He slid his hands into his pockets. “We’re finally getting to the end, aren’t we?”

  Henry nodded. “I think so.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You know where Nadia and Charlie Mara are?”

  Frank shook his head. “No, but I can find them.”

  “Then go find ’em.”

  Frank nodded and reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out his sunglasses and dropped them on his nose. Opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then snapped it shut and spun on his heel.

  He stepped into the hall at the same time Aela exited the bedroom, and the doors shut in unison.

  Henry almost told her to leave the daggers, but he shrugged and offered his hand. “You ready?”

  She took it, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for anything ever again.”

  “Good.”

  Henry dropped into the shadows, dragging her with him as she clung to his shoulders and moaned into his neck. They spiraled through the darkness, through the lightless corners and alleys. Up the concrete block wall of the hospital. The ledge outside the windows where Samantha had slept. Where Henry had been haunted by his daughter, waiting for his wife to wake up.

  Aela caught her breath and looked over Henry’s shoulder. She gasped and pressed her face into his chest, clutching and digging with her fingers. He looked over the side with a chuckle. Lots of air before hitting the pavement, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He leaned against the wall and peered into the window. An old woman, her face furrowed with pain, her fear pecking at the window like a bird.

  Nope.

  Henry dropped in and out of the shadows to the next window.

  Aela caught her breath but made no more noise, clinging to him with trembling terror.

  He worried they would have to figure out how to navigate the brightly lit corridors, then he finally found him. Lying in bed, surrounded by cops, Mike Stone stared out the window with hooded eyes, his pale face slack and gray.

  “Well,” Henry said. “Let’s do this.”

  He pulled Aela into the dark and swam up into the shadows in the corner of Stone’s room. The corner next to the curtain and the beeping IV machine.

  Everyone froze at the sudden appearance of a stranger with a blonde woman hanging from his shoulders, but Sergeant Scott jumped up and rushed toward Aela. Henry pushed her off his feet, and she drew back with a hiss as Scott wrapped her in a hug.

  She held her arms away from him as he murmured in her ear, but as the moments passed, and he wasn’t letting go, her arms fell to hug him back.

  Hansen stood on the other side of the bed. She looked even rougher out of uniform, her hair in a messy ponytail, her hands covered in bruises and cuts.

  Henry recognized a few of the other faces, but he was fixed on the pair men at the foot of the bed. Dressed in nearly identical ensembles — jeans, tight tees and curled baseball caps. They were bearded, thick, and quietly menacing.

  Hansen’s eyes left Aela and Scott’s embrace, then settled on Henry in confusion. He pointed to himself and shrugged. “This is how I look when I’m trying to fit in. I’m still Henry.”

  She narrowed her eyes and said nothing, leaning back and crossing her arms.

  Scott pulled out of Aela’s arms, turning to the room with teary eyes. “This is the angel that saved my life.”

  Aela hugged herself, rubbing her arms. “I’m not an angel.”

  “She healed me.”

  Henry stepped out of the corner. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Scott looked at Henry as if he were transparent, like he couldn’t focus his eyes. “Shot and burned, mostly. A bunch of broken ribs. Bullet in his right lung. They had to re-inflate it twice, and now there’s a tube in his chest, sucking the blood out. Stabbed through the thigh, through the femoral artery. They say he’ll probably lose the leg. Burns on his other leg up to his hip. Once he’s more stable, they're gonna prep him for grafts. Probably take the skin from his back.”

  “What happened?”

  Scott looked at the floor. “We followed you.”

  “How the fuck did you do that?”

  “Well, we didn’t really follow you. Mike remembered following you last year to your apartment over in Martinsburg. He was sure that’s where you lived, but after that night, you never came back. We didn’t find you this time, either, but we saw light on the roof and the angel fly away.” He turned to Aela. “Was it you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not an angel.”

  Henry was sick of her denial. “You followed him to the mayor’s mansion?”

  “That’s right, But I don’t know what happened. He made me wait in the car while he checked it out, but then the fucking place just about exploded. I’m talking every color you could think of, like fireworks. I jumped out and it was Saving Private Ryan. So much screaming. And the angel shot straight into the air like a rocket. Stone came staggering out of the shadows, smoking and bleeding. I brought him here, but the mayor’s security detail was already at the doors. Not the city ones, but his private assholes, and they were throwing their weight around. They took off with the mayor before we could stop him.”

  Henry was going to ask why they didn’t just go arrest the man following the rescue of the children, but he knew the answer. They couldn’t just arrest the man on his word that he was part of this big conspiracy. They needed to actually do an investigation. Still, they should’ve at least had someone watching the mayor and the fucking pastor. Maybe Sam would be safe now.

  Hansen dropped her arms and leaned on the bedside rail. “That’s when Scott called me, and we made it clear that he was the Hero of Twyker Island like they keep saying in the papers and on TV. Rolled heavy with my boys from the harbor and half the 6th. Locked the whole floor down.”

  Scott nodded. “Yeah, there’s something not right about this shit. Not fucking right.”

  Stone muttered something behind his oxygen mask, writhing in pain, his face twisting. Condensation on the inside of the plastic cup covering his mouth and nose was tinged with red.

  The two bearded men both reached down, placing a hand on each of Mike Stone’s feet, and the detective settled back into the pillow.

  Scott looked at Aela bending at the knees to lower himself into her gaze. “Are you here to heal him?”

  She looked at Henry, her eyes full of panic, but he stared back and said nothing. She swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I guess I am.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Aela flicked her hands at the floor as if she were throwing something away. Scott stepped out of her way and she walked to Stone’s side. His hand reached out for her, and she took it. Then she raised his fist to her lips, kissed it, pressed it back into the cushion beside him, and placed her other hand on the seeping bandage over the tube dangling from his chest.

  Her fingertips pulsed with light. Tears tracked down her cheeks, glistening as her hand blossomed into white fire.

  Stone stretched under her touch. The muscles bulged in his neck.

  Aela grabbed the tube, pulling the tape from his skin like releasing Velcro. He hissed in pain, his heart monitor ringing out in alarm. The light grew to a blinding flame that spread through Stone’s torso.

  The tube came free with a wet popping sound.

  Stone screamed.

  Two burly bearde
d men who were in the room, and not in uniform, started toward Stone. “What the hell?”

  Henry wasn’t sure if they were cops or worked at the hospital, but he wasn’t going to let them interrupt. He threw Serafino into the dark and stepped in to intercept them with a growl, his claws ready.

  Stone’s scream died with a gasping moan.

  The bearded men halted with unbelieving eyes tracking up the length of Henry’s body.

  Aela’s healing light grew even brighter, and Henry’s skin tightened across the back of his neck. The light reflected in every eye. Monitors shrieked. Her wings spread, feathers of burning light, and Stone bucked under her hand.

  Bones mended.

  Burns cooled.

  A final groan through the detective’s gritted teeth, and the light died.

  Aela collapsed to the floor, and Henry spun, catching her before her head made contact.

  He pulled her to the chair under the window, setting her in his lap and bending over, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her breath fluttered into his face. She looked into his eyes and smiled.

  He shook with a joy that teased laughter.

  Scott squatted next to his legs and looked at her face. “Is she okay?”

  Henry grinned and shook his head. “Oh, yes. She’s fine.”

  Stone threw the sheet aside and bounced out of bed as if his mattress was on fire.

  The room’s door popped open and slammed into the wall. One of the Harbor Patrol officers from the Siege on Twyker rushed in. “Fucking nurses are coming like it’s the Boston Marathon.”

  Stone turned while he pulled sticky pads from the hair in his chest. Snatching the IV from his arm. “Keep ’em outta here!” He bent down and jerked a gray plug from the wall. Monitors trailed off, screens flickering to black.

  “What?” The man stared at Stone with a hanging jaw.

  Hansen turned and knifed her hand at the hallway. “You heard him! Keep ’em busy.”

  “You got it, boss.” He whipped around, slamming the door shut behind him. Hansen leaned against the handle.

  Stone tore the hospital bracelet off with an annoyed grimace, then dropped to his knees next to Scott and looked at Aela. “He was right. I don’t give a shit what you say or think or feel. You’re an angel. You healed me. I saw you shining out in the sky like a bird made of fire. A beautiful bird …” Tears found his eyes. “A bird with sad eyes. Always flying away.”

  Aela reached for him, and just like she had, he brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Detective Stone?”

  “Yes?”

  “Put your pants on.”

  He dropped her hand and looked down with an embarrassed flush. Then back at her with a grin. “Right.”

  Shouts from the hallway as he jumped up. Knocking on the door followed by pounding. Hansen held the handle firm. Shouts receded.

  Aela pushed from Henry’s lap and stood. “It always hurt before. It felt good to heal him this time. I don’t understand.”

  “I know when I do shit, it’s like finding that thing you were made for, and doing it. Contentment?”

  She nodded with an empty expression. He stood, lifting her to her feet, then stayed behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

  “Henry,” Stone said, sliding the other leg into his pants and tipping his head to the two bearded men handing him clothes from a duffel. He pointed to the one with sandy blond hair, then the black streaked with gray. “This is Howser and Weego. Friends from Afghanistan.”

  Henry waved. “They look like southern Ohio to me.”

  Stone barked laughter and pulled a T-shirt over his head. “Don’t let that fool you. Howser’s an electrical engineer, and Weego’s a neuroscientist. They helped a guy start a private security firm for a bio-research company. Called it Dark Water before they turned independent and moved out to Seattle.”

  “Kinda far from home, huh?”

  “They were here for me, doing a fundraiser for the Burg City VA. Traumatic brain injury research.” He spoke like an announcer at the end of a commercial. Cramming as many words in as possible.

  “Mike!” Henry shouted.

  Stone looked up from tying his shoe. “Yeah?”

  “They got Samantha.”

  “What?”

  “They took her, and they burned down my house. If I don’t show when he calls, he’ll kill her.”

  “Who, Pastor Owen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s the reason my son died.”

  “I know.”

  “Your daughter.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Stone threw his hands out in frustrated disgust. “I liked that house.”

  You and me both, and only one of us paid for it.

  “I need your help.”

  Stone smiled, his lips pressing into a hard line. “You have it.”

  Henry sighed, relief loosening his knees. He held onto Aela to stay upright. “Thank you.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “We’re gonna play a round of golf.”

  Stone grinned with a knowing nod. “I like that. What clubs are we gonna use?”

  “We need a full set?”

  “I don’t think so. Just the big ones. The drivers.”

  Henry grinned with him. “Then, how about we meet at the clubhouse for drinks? Say midnight?”

  “You got it.” Stone turned to Howser and Weego. “Did you bring the wagons?”

  His two bearded friends traded a glance then nodded in unison. The blond, Howser, turned back and smiled. “You know it.”

  “Good. There’s a fire station about three blocks down. The chief’s an old salty bastard named Williams, but he knows me.” He spun to Henry, his eyes fevered with excitement. “Me and a couple of guys’ll hump it up to the clubhouse, and after we talk, I’ll call the rest of ’em in.”

  Henry raised his hand. “How hard do you want to do this, Mike?”

  “How hard do I need to be?”

  “You know when people say they had to go through Hell and back, and that shit’s just a metaphor?”

  Stone nodded with a confused shrug.

  Henry spread his hands, and turned so everyone in the room could see him. “This is not a metaphor.”

  He wrapped his arms around Aela and thought about the apartment. He hoped it worked, otherwise he’d end up standing in Stone’s hospital room looking like he was trying to fart.

  Time folded and scattered behind them, pulling space with it.

  They stood in Boothe’s living room. Aela’s knees buckled, but Henry held her up, scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. He laid her down and pushed the hair from her forehead. He turned to leave, but her hand caught his sleeve. “Don’t go.”

  “Okay.” She scooted over, and he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “My grandmother was an angel.”

  “Not your mother?”

  “No, my mother was a prostitute in the Forgotten.”

  “That seems … difficult.”

  “I guess.”

  Henry scrubbed his eyes with his fist. Weariness settled across his shoulders. He spun the dial to static and blocked out the city. Aela kicked her shoes to the floor. Henry sighed and stretched his neck. “What about your father?”

  “Just a man. In Solitude somewhere.”

  “Oh. Well, we all gotta be somewhere.”

  “I never knew him, and I had my grandfather.”

  Henry knew there was more to that old man than even Aela knew. “He was good to me. And Adam. The look on his face when Adam gave him his bible.”

  Aela laughed. A single chuckle of air. “He has maybe a thousand. In a thousand different languages, but that one was special.”

  “So’s that boy.”

  She flopped on to her side. “What’s it like being a demon?”

  He looked at her to see if she was joking. Her face was serious under the fall of her hair. “Shit. I don’t know. A lot like not being a demon, I guess. Maybe I’d have
a better answer if I knew what it was supposed to be like.”

  “You have powers, though.”

  “You have powers.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “How would I know? I don’t think Boothe had a plan for me beyond getting Maria back. What’s it like to heal people?”

  “Terrifying. At first, I felt exposed, like God could see me. Like he was judging me for using this… accidental gift. Like I wasn’t supposed to. Like I was taking advantage of Him.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “No, it was still terrifying, but this time … I don’t know. It felt like the right thing. I could tell he was a good man when I touched him.”

  “I know. It pisses me off.”

  “Why?”

  “It makes it harder to hate him. In fact, it gets harder to hate anything every day.”

  “That’s what makes you a good man, too.”

  Henry growled and shook his head. He pushed off the bed to stand, but dropped back down. Nervous energy flooded his thoughts. He didn’t deserve anyone’s admiration. “That’s what Pastor Owen said. That whether I admitted it or not, I was a good man.”

  “But, you are.”

  “I’m not!”

  “You’re going through an awful lot to save your daughter. I don’t think a bad man would do that. The way you fought for Adam. I don’t think a bad man would do that, either.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “And now you’re fighting for your wife.”

  “Not really. She’s my widow.”

  “But do you still love her?”

  He looked down into his lap and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “And that’s why you’re a good man. A pretty girl in your bed, a girl that already tried to have sex with you, and you told the truth.”

  “Maybe I’m just dumb.”

  She laughed. A true moment of humor, and Henry realized he was a prostitute, too. Only, he trafficked in jokes.

  Anything for a laugh.

  She put her hand flat on his back, teasing with her nails through his T-shirt. “Sometimes, you are dumb. You see so many details, but then you’re surprised by the big picture.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned into her touch and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s me.”