The 7 Bad Habits of Slightly Troubled Monsters

by Devin Harnois

  And if they bad guy wins, he’ll come after me. A dull ache started in his side and grew stronger as he crashed through the woods. He did his best to ignore the pain, ducking under tree limbs and pushing his way through shrubs. Aiden stumbled again, and that time he fell.

  On his hands and knees, he took in deep lungfuls of air and tried to listen for the fight. He couldn’t hear anything. After a moment he noticed the wind in the trees and birds singing. No zaps or whooshes or any other sound of combat.

  He shifted to sit with his back to a tree and looked around. He didn’t know how far he’d run. Sunlight danced through the leaves as if nothing was wrong. He strained his ears, and still there was nothing but the sounds of the forest.

  I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where Mr. Johnson is or if he’s still alive. I don’t know where Dylan is or if that evil warden killed him. Panic tried to grip him again, and he forced it back. I need to find Dylan. I need to save him. Because he had to believe his friend was still alive.

  A gentle warmth spread from his back, legs, and butt. The parts of him touching the tree and the earth. The forest was comforting him as it had back in the clearing. Well, no. This was a different forest, but the feeling was the same.

  Can you help me find Dylan? He had no idea if the forest could understand a request like that, but he had to try. Remembering the spell Mr. Johnson had cast, he looked down at his scar. Aiden’s chest was bare, scratched in several places. He’d lost his shirt while he was running. The scar was still faintly warm, so the spell must still be active.

  Aiden grabbed the closest branch, belonging to some kind of bush, and pressed it to his chest. The bright green leaf was cool against his skin. Can you find this magic? The dragonkin magic? Can you lead me to it?

  He felt a little stupid, but he closed his eyes and concentrated. His heartbeat slowed back to normal, and the comforting warmth of the forest spread through him. Then he felt a tug on his scar and his eyes flew open. That way. He turned to face the direction of the tugging sensation. It was like he’d turned into a compass, the scar a needle that pointed him north. Dylan was north.

  Well, metaphorically.

  Aiden got to his feet, pressing a hand against the tree. “Thank you.”

  He set off toward Dylan, his feet knowing exactly where to step, the branches no longer scratching him.

  * * *

  The lock clicked and the door swung open. Ten minutes, she’d said. Had all the others run? Dylan pictured the werewolf, Dalton. The guy had been an asshole, but he was just a lackey of Conner’s, following the alpha’s lead. He didn’t deserve to die like this, hunted down like an animal.

  Dylan ran out of the cage and turned toward the trail where the hunters had left on their ATVs. Their scents still hung faintly in the air and Dylan followed at a jog. At the end of the clearing, the trees closed around him and he kept his ears alert. One of them might have stayed behind to see which way he’d go.

  Anger writhed inside him. Maybe he could take out the warden and maybe he couldn’t, but he was going to kill every one of those hunters. For a moment he considered just burning down the whole forest. Trapped by the fire, the hunters would die from the smoke or the flames, and Dylan could wait at the edge of the woods to catch any that managed to escape.

  No. He wanted to kill them personally. Besides, that warden might have tricks up her sleeve that could stop his fire. She might not be stupid.

  The trail was rough but clear, and he kept jogging up it, glancing left and right. He spotted an ATV, partially hidden and parked to the side of the trail. Dylan stopped to take a good long sniff, picking out the hunter’s distinct scent from the others. This one had parked on the left, but he’d gone to the right side of the trail.

  Dylan plunged into the trees, shoving branches out of his way. A faint, narrow path appeared. Maybe a deer trail. The human had gone up this way. Dylan knew little about hunting, but he knew about deer stands, so he glanced up into the trees from time to time. It would suck to get shot in the head without even seeing the bastard.

  He heard a crunch and froze. Ahead and to the right another sound came, this time a rustle. Dylan breathed deep, the smell of human and gun oil sharp in his nose. As quietly as he could, Dylan crept up the trail, pausing every few seconds to listen.

  The hunter was moving away from him. A little farther on, Dylan caught a glimpse of something through the trees and he fought the urge to attack. No, just a little closer.

  Dylan didn’t consider himself the nature type, but he’d grown up with a forest in his backyard and spent countless hours going for long walks through the trees. He’d snuck up on deer and other animals a few times just to see if he could.

  The hunter never turned around. Not until Dylan was ten feet away and shouted, “Surprise, asshole!”

  The man turned, lifting his gun, but Dylan was faster. He sent out a stream of fire that engulfed the man in seconds. The man screamed, dropping his gun. It swung by the strap across his chest as he flailed, the sound rising to a screech. He collapsed to the ground, trying to roll and put the fire out. Dylan threw a huge fireball at him and the flames doubled in size.

  The leaves and branches around the hunter caught fire. A horrid smell rose up as the man struggled and then went still. His face, hands, clothes— everything was black.

  Dylan felt a little sick. Burning someone wasn’t nearly as fun as he’d thought it would be. It was self-defense. They were trying to kill him, but still…

  He looked down at the gun, wondering if he should take it. The thing was probably too hot to touch, even for him.

  A loud crack, and sharp pain blazed through his leg. Dylan fell, almost hitting the body, and grabbed his thigh. His hand came away wet with blood. Shot. I’ve been shot. The pain made it hard to think.

  There’s another hunter. Get up. Run. He wasn’t stupid enough to think his fire could outrun a bullet. Dylan stumbled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain, and limped through the trees. He put a few large trunks and thick bushes between him and where he thought the bullet had come from.

  Another shot rang out and he tensed. Nothing hit him. He kept going, partly crouched, pain lancing through him with every step. He knew he was making a lot of noise, but he couldn’t help it.

  “C’mere, dragon. I promise I’ll make it quick.” The voice carried through the trees, followed by a chuckle.

  Dylan clenched his fists. He hated running away, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

  The gun sounded again. This time the shot hit a tree several feet away, punching into the wood with a solid thunk. For the first time, Dylan considered that he really might die out here. If he could get a little distance, he could pull on his magic enough to set the forest ablaze. Getting out alive was more important than the satisfaction of killing the hunters himself.

  “What’s the matter? Are you scared of guns?” The voice was a bit farther away. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. The man laughed again, but the sound suddenly cut off. “Holy shit.”

  The hunter must have found his friend’s body.

  Dylan hobbled along, one hand pressed to his bleeding leg.

  “I was planning to kill you clean, but now I think I’ll make you suffer. Monster.”

  Everybody hates Dylan. He pressed his lips together against a hysterical laugh.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  A loud crack echoed through the woods. Aiden froze. Another crack, and another. Cold crept into his heart. Were those gunshots?

  Dylan’s trail led in that direction. His friend might be hurt. But the idea of running toward gunfire…

  Aiden turned around, looking back the way he’d come. He was more lost than ever, but he was sure the forest would lead him back to the road if he asked. But Mr. Johnson and the other warden were fighting somewhere over there. Maybe Mr. Johnson had won. Maybe the danger was over. Or else Mr. Johnson was dead and the evil warden was waiting for Aiden.

  And could Aiden live with himself
if he ran away while Dylan was being killed?

  He turned toward the compass-pull of Dylan’s magic and took a deep breath. His heart fluttered like a caged bird, but the warm comfort of the forest still flowed through him. It helped. Panic wanted to grab him, but he could hold it back. Aiden forced his right foot to lift and take a step. Then the left one.

  Another gunshot made him jump, and then he was running. Toward danger instead of away from it. The branches seemed to shift out of his way as he plunged through the trees. The tugging sensation in his chest got stronger.

  He jumped over a fallen log, dodged between two huge trees, ducked a low-hanging branch. Up a small hill, then down into the tangled brush. His scar was uncomfortably hot.

  A low shape staggered out from behind a tree, and Aiden skidded to a stop. The figure brought his hands up just as Aiden recognized him.

  “Dylan, it’s me!” For one panicked heartbeat, he was hit with déjà vu. The motion was so much like the Incident, Dylan with his hands up, ready to burn…

  “Aiden?” His hands dropped. One of them was covered with blood. Dylan frowned, then fear spread over his face. “Run! The hunters are after me.”

  “Hunters?”

  But Dylan was already moving, grabbing Aiden and pulling him along as he limped.

  Aiden noticed the blood soaking through Dylan’s jeans. “You’re hurt. What happened?”

  Dylan shushed him. “Quiet, they’ll hear you.”

  In a whisper, Aiden asked, “What’s going on?” He looked over Dylan for other signs of injury, wondering how badly he was hurt. Wondering if they would both die out here.

  “They’re hunting me. I got shot.” He tried to lean on Aiden and push him along at the same time, which didn’t work well.

  Aiden’s mind spun at the confirmation that those had been gunshots. Someone was out here with a gun, chasing them. His chest tightened. Was that what had happened to the other people who had been kidnapped?

  “You should run. I’ll hold them off,” Dylan whispered.

  Behind them, Aiden heard someone crashing through the woods. Getting closer. “You’re hurt. I can’t leave you.” No matter how terrified he was.

  A sharp crack made him jump. “Oh God.” He couldn’t tell how close the bullet had come, but he was sure it was too close.

  “I need a little time so I can summon enough fire to burn them out,” Dylan’s voice was tense.

  Flames everywhere, surrounding him. Trapped while the fire got closer and closer. “No!” Aiden said, louder than he meant to.

  “That or we die. There’s a dozen hunters out there.”

  Fear squeezed Aiden’s heart, but he got an idea. “Maybe… maybe I can try something.” He had no time to stop and meditate. He’d have to do this on the move. Aiden stopped for a second, getting Dylan’s arm around him so he could support his friend. They moved a little faster, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough.

  The crashing sounds kept getting louder. Closer.

  With his free hand, Aiden touched every trunk, branch, and leaf he could as they passed. Help us. Help us, please. The tingling sensation of magic built inside him, and he sent the power out, imagining a wall between them and the hunters.

  Rustling, like the wind through the leaves, but louder. Now snapping. Aiden glanced behind him, wondering if the hunter had caught up.

  The forest was moving, growing thicker. Surprise made Aiden stumble, and he fell against a tree, taking Dylan with him. His friend grunted in pain.

  “What—?” Dylan looked at the shifting plants. “Whoa.” They both stared for a moment, then Dylan nudged him. “We gotta go.”

  The wall forming behind them would slow the hunters down, but it wouldn’t stop them. And Dylan had said there were a dozen hunters. They could be anywhere. Aiden hurried on as fast as he could. Dylan seemed to be limping a bit less but breathing harder.

  “I can’t…” He panted. “It’s taking too long to heal.”

  “We’ll get out of here. Just keep running.” Aiden tried to think of the road and not what lay between them and it.

  Dylan shook his head. “I’m too slow.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  * * *

  “That’s not what I mean.” Dylan didn’t know how Aiden had gotten here, and there wasn’t time to ask. There also wasn’t time to ask how he’d learned to do that trick with the plants. Or why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Can you put up another wall? Make it surround us?”

  “Maybe?” Aiden kept dragging him along.

  Every step flared with pain, though the sharpness of it was becoming a dull, deep ache. The scent of his own blood filled his nose. “I need a few minutes. I might be able to shapeshift and get us out of here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Can you do it or not?” Dylan felt guilty about snapping at him, but they didn’t have much time and he was out of patience.

  “I’ll try.” Aiden stopped, gently shifting out from under his arm.

  Dylan leaned against a tree, putting all his weight on his good leg. Aiden lifted his hands and closed his eyes. Dylan looked around nervously, wondering if someone was aiming a gun at them right now.

  A soft rustle made his heart clench, but as the sound got louder he saw the plants moving around, growing way faster than should have been possible, even with magic. All around them in a rough circle, branches, vines and leaves wove together to form a ten-foot-high wall.

  Aiden opened his eyes, hands dropping. “Wow, it worked.”

  Dylan admired it for a moment but told himself they had little time. Crap, this might not even work. The wall might turn out to be a cage. Dylan closed his eyes, the power inside him a little more sluggish than usual.

  “What did you mean about shape-shifting?” Aiden sounded nervous.

  Right. He was terrified of Dylan’s magic. “It’s nothing that will hurt you. I can transform— just let me try.”

  A shuffle as Aiden moved away. Dylan didn’t blame him. The scar on his chest was like an accusation. I’ll never hurt you like that again. His concentration faltered as he remembered the horror of that moment. Knowing he’d hurt Aiden, maybe killed him. Dylan forced those thoughts away. None of that mattered if a bunch of asshole hunters killed them.

  The magic responded this time, and he pushed it along his body faster than he’d ever tried. Tingling spread along his arms, down his torso. Fear and pain gave him more to draw on. His fingertips itched and claws burst out.

  Aiden gasped.

  Stay focused. I have to save him, save both of us. His body heated as the shift took hold, scales forming along his arms, his neck, now down his back. A burning itch started in his shoulder blades. Come on, please. His heart raced. This had to work or they were sitting ducks.

  Then it happened. Something burst out of his back. Strangely, it didn’t hurt but it was odd and uncomfortable. He realized he’d forgotten to take off his shirt. “Damn it!” He brought his claws up, shredding the fabric along his front as his wings kept growing.

  They spread behind him, the tattered remains of his shirt falling to the ground. Dylan kept pushing out his power, making sure the transformation was finished. His wings stopped growing, and he stood panting. Dylan opened his eyes.

  Aiden stared at him, mouth open. “You… how did you…?”

  Dylan stretched his wings, moved them experimentally. They felt strange and perfectly right at the same time. “You okay?” His voice sounded deeper.

  “Me?” Aiden blinked. “Oh, you mean because you used magic?” His brows drew together. “I guess so. You look… weird. But really cool.”

  Dylan wished he had a mirror. He shook the thought aside. “I’m gonna try carrying you.” He looked up at the trees. God, this was insane. “Can you clear a path?”

  “You’re going to carry me? You can fly?”

  “That’s what wings are for.” He flapped his wings again. He’d barely been able to keep himself in the air. Why did he think he c
ould carry Aiden?

  “Over here!” Someone shouted. The voice was distant, but not distant enough.

  Aiden jumped and ran the short distance between them. “Hurry up then.” He wrapped his arms around Dylan’s neck.

  It was awkward, especially with both of them bare-chested. The extra weight put more pressure on his wounded leg and made Dylan grunt with pain. No time to be a wimp. He put his arms around Aiden’s waist. “The trees. Can you move them out of the way?”

  Aiden looked up, a faint green-gold shimmer around him as the scent of earth and growing things filled Dylan’s nose. “I think so.” The branches above them shifted, revealing a bright blue sky.

  As soon as the gap looked wide enough, Dylan sprang. He cried out at the sharp stab in his leg, almost dropping Aiden as they titled sharply. He fought for control, wings sweeping down to lift them another foot, then another. Magic carried them up as much as his wings.

  Dylan kept his eyes on the blue patch above.

  “In there!” This voice was much closer. Several gunshots echoed around them. Aiden whimpered against his neck.

  Then they were out, up over the forest. Despite the danger they were in, Dylan smiled. It worked! He was flying, just like he’d always dreamed.

  Aiden shifted and made another whimper. “Oh God! We’re so high.” His arms tightened, threatening to choke off Dylan’s air.

  “I won’t drop you.” Dylan had more than human strength, and Aiden was smaller than him. He scanned the horizon, looking for the road. All he could see were the treetops. “Do you know which way we should go?”

  More gunshots from below. The hunters must have spotted them. Dylan’s red scales and wings weren’t exactly camouflage.

  Aiden cringed. “Right!”

  Dylan turned.

  “The other way. My right.”

  Dylan flew in that direction as fast as he could. He stayed near the treetops just in case his strength failed. Now that there wasn’t any pressure on his leg, the pain became a dull, throbbing ache. The injury, running, and the transformation had taken a toll on him. Within minutes, the thrill wore off as he got more and more tired.