A Monster and a Gentleman

by Lila Dubois

  “Follow me,” he whispered, voice so low she could barely hear it.

  “No, wait, we need to call 911.” Cali dug her phone from her jacket pocket, thankful she’d stuck it in there before going to seduce Seling.

  “Stay close to me. Hide the light.”

  Cali curled her body around the phone, even as she felt Seling’s wing come around her like a curtain.

  She didn’t have any reception. She stared at the No Service icon with a sinking feeling in her gut.

  “There’s no service.”

  “We’ll move—”

  “There should be service. I called Margo from here this morning. Someone is blocking the signal.”

  A shudder went through Seling and his wing clattered like leaves in a wind. “Blackwolf.”

  “Who?” Cali typed out an SOS text message, set it to send both via SMS and data, hoping it would get through at some point.

  “We’re in trouble.” Seling’s voice was more serious and more dangerous than she’d ever heard it before. It was as if he’d changed from the easygoing, fun guy she knew into something else.

  A monster.

  In the distance, Cali thougth she heard the electronic hiss of a radio, but the sound was gone before she got a chance to listen for it.

  “They know where we are,” Seling whispered.

  He led her deeper into the building. She couldn’t see anything, but it was clear from the way he moved that he could. She wrapped both her hands around one of his. His skin was hotter as a monster, his palm broad, but with only three fingers and a thumb. When he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his talons clicked together.

  It was a terrifying sound.

  He led them to the construction elevator. Seling pushed her in, then handed her the control box. “Go up.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t.” He touched her cheek with his cool, smooth talons. “But I don’t fit in there.”

  “They’ll hear the elevator.”

  “No, they won’t.”

  She felt him move away, though she couldn’t see or hear him. “Seling.”

  Panic and adrenaline were coursing through her. Her hands shook, her breath was shallow. She wanted to tell him…everything. Why she was the way she was, how scared she was of relationships and how much she liked him.

  “See you at the top,” he said, and she thought she could hear a grin in his voice.

  That calmed her. Cali nodded, closed her eyes and pushed the up button. The construction elevator jumped to life. Cali crouched down and held her breath as the elevator started up. The sound seemed impossibly loud. Why did Seling think they wouldn’t hear?

  Because he was going to make a lot of noise.

  There was an unholy crash. Glass shattered and metal screamed. The sound was followed by pops of gunfire.

  “Seling.” Cali took her finger off the button, listening. There was nothing, and she bit down on her lip to hold back a scream. They’d killed him.

  Another massive crash split the night air. Cali breathed out. Seling was okay. She pushed the button for the elevator again. When it shuddered to a stop, she dropped to her knees and felt for the floor with her hands. It was there, the elevator having stopped just short of level.

  Cali carefully crawled out.

  Moonlight streamed around her, unhindered by walls, making it brighter than on the ground. While she was glad to be able to see, she also didn’t want to make herself a target. Crawling to one of the massive steel supports, she wedged herself into the well made by the H shape. She held her phone in one hand, keeping the screen covered but hoping that, at this height, it might get a signal.

  She heard a snap, then a thump. Cali held her breath.

  “Cali.” Seling’s voice was low, rough with pain.

  Flinging herself out of her hiding place, she looked around for Seling. He was crouched at the edge, wings outspread.

  A sob caught in her throat, Cali ran to him.

  “Come away from the edge.”

  “No, I need to watch for them.”

  “You’re hurt, you need to rest.”

  He looked at her, massive dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.

  “I’ll be back.” He threw himself off the building.

  Cali bit back a scream, dropped to her hands and knees and crawled the edge. She couldn’t see him. But she did hear a whooshing noise and see a flash of light. A moment later, metal screamed and the service elevator dropped out of sight. It clanked and crashed as it careened to the ground floor. As it crashed, Seling appeared, crawling up an exterior steel beam.

  He struggled to pull himself up the last bit. Cali grabbed the upper rib of one wing and heaved, though she might have been trying to move an SUV for all the good it did.

  Seling flopped down and together they got him away from the edge.

  “That’s enough,” he said, panting. He lay on his side, wings spread out flat behind him. There were trails of black blood pouring from holes in his side, shoulder and just below his right nipple.

  “Seling, you’re hurt.”

  “It’s, ugh, not that bad. I took out the elevator and the stairs.”

  “Yes, it is that bad.” Cali pulled off her jacket and pressed it over the hole in his chest. The others didn’t seem like much of a threat.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “How? How will you be okay?” The tears of fear and anger she’d been holding back were on her lashes, squeezing the back of her throat.

  “I don’t know,” he said bleakly. “But I will not be taken by them again.”

  “Again? Seling, who is it? Who are these people?”

  “Blackwolf. They’re humans—a militia.”

  “They’re the ones who killed Runako’s sister, and who…who…”

  “Who tortured me.” His breathing was ragged between the whispered words. “They dissected, tortured, killed Runako’s sister.”

  And they were doing the same to me when Runako and Margo rescued me.”

  Cali sat down with a thump. She knew this, she’d heard this story before, but somehow it had never been real until now. She hadn’t thought about what Seling must have endured before they got him out.

  “I didn’t realize.”

  “I guess I’m not Batman. If I was, I’d be much more tormented because of my past.” His laugh turned in to a wet, agonizing cough.

  “Don’t, don’t talk.” Cali scooted so he could lay his head on her lap. She rested her hand on his cheek, which was scorching to the touch. Was that normal or was he getting hotter because he was hurt?

  “Talk to me,” he said, sounding almost sleepy.

  “I will, I will, but you stay awake. You hear me?” Cali twisted his face so he had to look at her. “Do not go to sleep.”

  He nodded.

  Cali settled herself, alert for any sound, either of attack or rescue. There were a million questions that needed answers—what about the security? Were they all dead or had they betrayed her and let these men in? Had Blackwolf seen the photos on the blog or had someone tipped them off directly?

  But right now she had no answer. All she could do was wait. Either they’d be rescued or the Blackwolf men would find a way up here.

  Until then, Cali would watch over him. It was all she could do.

  “My dad is from Iran.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “No talking.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “It’s in the Middle East. We don’t have time for a history of the region, but the short version is that the leader of Iran was kicked out and a lot of people left. My dad was one of them. He was smart, successful. Even after he gave up everything to come to the U.S., he was successful because he worked hard.”

  Cali tried to dim the admiration in her voice. A therapist had told her she idolized her father, but she didn’t care. He was the best man she’d ever known.

  “He’d never married. It was unusual, and one time he told me about how all the old married women who’d also f
led the fall of the shah would try and set him up with their daughters.

  “But my father fell in love with an American. A woman from a wealthy O.C. family. She was in real estate, like my dad was, and sold condos in one of the first buildings my father constructed.”

  Cali stroked Seling’s hair, listened to his breathing. She wasn’t sure if he was still awake. And if he was asleep or passed out, she didn’t know if she should wake him. Instead she kept telling her story, doing her best to distract both of them from the agonizing wait.

  “My mother was pretty and smart but also a complete bitch. She married my father because he was rich. I don’t think she ever loved him, not really. But my father couldn’t see what she was. When I was a child, I could tell that her smiles were lies. I was scared of her, didn’t trust her, but how does a little kid explain that?

  “Whenever she was with my father, she was the perfect blonde wife. She fawned on him, smiled and laughed. I could see how much my father loved her.”

  There was a bang, and Cali froze, holding her breath. The sound didn’t repeat.

  “Keep talking.”

  Cali looked down. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “You told me not to sleep.”

  “And now you’re going to start listening to me?” Keeping her voice at a whisper, Cali continued her story. “By the time I was in middle school, my parents’ marriage was unraveling. My mother had stopped hiding her affairs and sometimes she’d be gone for days at a time. That wasn’t even the worst part of it.

  “She’d been using my father, using him to further her pseudo-career, to maintain the lifestyle she wanted but didn’t want to work for. She wanted to attend lavish parties, mingle with the super wealthy and once a year sell some multimillion-dollar home.

  “What she didn’t want was a somber Persian man who’d worked all his life, so much that when he was forty he looked fifty. And she didn’t want a child.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I stopped loving her when I was in middle school. That sounds cold, but it’s true. I loved my father, but she was just some bitch making the man I loved miserable.

  “I watched her turn him—a strong, proud man—in an unsure, angry shell of himself. And yet she still insisted that she loved him, and every time she said it, he believed her.”

  “When I was in high school, they got divorced. She wasn’t upset about it until I told the court that I wanted to live with my father.”

  “She loved you.”

  “No, she’d signed a pre-nup—my father wasn’t an idiot. There was a stipulation in it that said that if there was a child, a huge sum would be set aside for the care of the child. She figured I’d live with her and she’d have access to the millions that were meant for my care. I shut that down. I was old enough to stand up for myself and finally, in that courtroom, I was able to tell the world what a manipulative bitch she was.

  “My dad got custody, and after we’d gone home he said to me, ‘The only lasting beauty is the beauty of the heart.’ It was a quote from a poet, a teacher, and I knew it was my father’s way of saying that all that mattered is being true to yourself.

  “My mother’s ‘love’ almost destroyed him. But he was true to his heart and he recovered. I promised myself that I would never try and be anything other than what I was and that I would never put myself in a position to be hurt, or to hurt someone, the way my father was.”

  Seling reached up and touched her face. “I’m sorry for you and your father.”

  “Thank you, but,”—Cali let out a little hiccupping laugh—“right now that all seems fucking stupid and melodramatic. If we die tonight, I’m going to be severely pissed that I wasted time that we could have spent together.”

  “I was thinking that, but didn’t want to say it…”

  “So if we survive, we’ll do this. We’ll go all out, move in together, do romantic mushy stuff.”

  “Have epic death-kill ratios in Call of Duty?”

  “Well, that goes without saying.” Cali pressed his massive, hot hand to her cheek.

  There was another saying by Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, the poet her father had quoted. A saying she did her best to ignore, because it went against her hard-hearted life motto.

  Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.

  Cali had plenty of barriers, but sitting there in the dark with the man she cared for hurt and bleeding in her arms, she let them go. Love was dangerous, but not nearly as much as losing the man she knew she was starting to love before they had time to see what exactly was between them.

  “We have to survive,” she said. If she was finally letting go of her fear and willing to start a relationship, she was going to be pissed if they died before they got to the good stuff.

  “That was my plan.”

  “Good, because I think I’m falling in love with you. I refuse to find the guy I’m meant to love only to have him killed off.”

  “You love me?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Cali warned him.

  “You—” Seling stopped speaking, his head snapping up. “Someone’s coming.”

  Cali scooted out of the way as Seling got to his feet. She looked around, but the building was clear of debris. Weapon or no, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Seling staggered to the edge of the building, scanning the ground below them. He looked over his shoulder.

  “Oh, and I think I’m starting to love you too.”

  Shots rang out, shattering the silent night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Oren and Maeve

  Oren checked the knot of his tie, then smoothed the ends against his shirt. It had been a while since he’d worn a tie. They were for weddings, funerals…and first dates.

  He knocked on the door of the condo Maeve was sharing with Henry and Seling.

  Henry opened the door. His brow went up as he saw what Oren was wearing.

  “Am I overdressed?”

  “How would I know?”

  “Good point.”

  “Is he here?” Maeve called from deeper in the condo.

  “Yes,” Henry answered.

  “You’re supposed to bring him in and give him a drink. Then I’ll make my entrance.”

  Henry thumped his head against the door a few times. “She’s been like this all night.”

  Oren chuckled. Hearing Maeve’s voice had relaxed him. His date skills might be a little rusty, but she probably wouldn’t notice—a nice perk to taking a non-human on a date.

  “Do your people date?” he asked as Henry closed the door behind him.

  “No. But she knows what dating is. At least, I think she does. She might have a date mixed up with going to prom—she watched chick flicks all last night.”

  Oren adjusted the flowers he held, glad he’d brought them. He was never sure if bringing flowers was creepily out of sync with modern dating or fun and retro. He’d heard it both ways.

  Henry led him into the living room. Oren went to take a seat, but Henry stood against the wall, his arms folded, so Oren too remained standing.

  “What you’re doing is dangerous,” Henry warned him in a low voice.

  “Is it?” Oren had no intention of explaining his feelings or intentions to Henry. “I think Maeve can take care of herself.”

  “I know she can. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “Er…thanks?”

  “Henry, stop saying mean things about me!” Maeve called out.

  “I’m not saying anything mean about you.”

  “Yes, you are. I wouldn’t hurt Oren.”

  “You might not mean to.”

  “Just because you think it’s a mistake to mate with humans doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.”

  Oren jerked in surprise. After her explanation about mating, it was startling to hear the word. It was equally surprising to hear that Henry didn’t think they should be with humans.
He thought that Runako was the one who hadn’t liked the plan to come out to the humans.

  “You don’t like humans?” Oren tried to keep the question casual. Was it possible that they’d been looking for someone working on the movie, when really it was an internal betrayal?

  Something of his suspicions must have showed on his face, because Henry stiffened.

  “I like humans and humanity,” Henry said in a low voice. “But I think that relationships between humans and monsters are doomed to fail.”

  “Why?”

  “Because while we may be able to fit in to the human world, human mates will never really fit in to our world.”

  Oren looked at the flowers on the table. They now looked silly—and he felt stupid.

  “Shut up, Henry!” Maeve yelled from the other room. This was followed by a litany in a language Oren didn’t recognize.

  As Maeve spoke, Henry’s eyes got wider, his cheeks pinker. He tried to cut in twice, but Maeve’s tirade rolled right over his words.

  Oren was now starting to think this was a mistake. “I should go…”

  “No! Henry!”

  Henry rolled his eyes, muttering, “Seling gets to deal with her next time.” He sighed, then added, “Oren, would you like something to drink?”

  “Just water, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Henry went to the kitchen, then threw Oren a bottle of water before marching down the hall towards where Maeve’s voice had come from. A moment later he emerged, then cleared his throat.

  Oren picked up the flowers and turned to watch as Maeve appeared at the mouth of the hall.

  She was stunning.

  Her long, lithe body was shown off in a short black dress that shimmered in the light. Her pale legs seemed to go on for miles, and she wore a pair of black shoes he vaguely remembered her trying on in the store.

  Her hair was wound into a bun on the top of her head, making her seem even taller, and regal. She wore a diamond necklace, which sparkled against the smooth, pale column of her throat. He had a moment of déjà vu, then realized that she looked like a sexier version of Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.