The Last of the Monsters

by Lila Dubois

  “Last night was about you, making you happy. I would never have agreed to a publicity stunt.”

  “Ah ha! You were just placating me. So you’re saying that you don’t really love me or want to marry me.”

  “I’m not particularly fond of you at the moment, no.”

  “Christian, shoot him.”

  “Uh, sir, ma’am.” Christian holstered his gun. “There was a photographer there, but she was with the PR company…your PR company. She was the same woman you called for advice about a restaurant, sir. She stopped by our table to let us know she’d be taking pictures. I assumed that was okay with both of you.”

  Both Akta and Henry stilled.

  “That bitch,” Henry snarled.

  “Oops,” Akta whispered.

  “I should have known the dinner was a bad idea.”

  “Henry, I…”

  “No talking. We’re leaving.”

  “You can’t kidnap me.” Akta gasped as Henry dragged her toward the door.

  “Really? Because it looks like that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, I made a stupid assumption. When I saw those photos, I maybe overreacted.”

  Henry snorted.

  “Okay, I totally overreacted.” Akta yelped as the cold morning air hit her bare legs. “Henry, stop!”

  Christian followed them out, cell phone in hand. “Sir, I don’t want to shoot you.”

  “Then don’t, but no matter what you do, I’m leaving and taking her with me.”

  “Taking her where?”

  “Someplace where no one will be able to hurt her.”

  Christian considered that. “It would improve her security.”

  “You’re agreeing with him? You’re supposed to protect me.”

  “It sounds like he’s doing the same.”

  “Henry,” Akta said in her calmest voice. “I’m so, so sorry. Why don’t we go inside, have some breakfast and talk? I’ll make pancakes.”

  “I hate pancakes.”

  “You don’t hate pancakes.”

  “You can make me pancakes at the Captive Caves.” Henry’s wings snapped open.

  “We can’t leave now! The critics’ screening is tomorrow! The premiere is Friday.”

  “They’ll be fine without us.” He looked down at her, then at Christian. “Can you bring me some pants for her? It’s cold in the Rockies.”

  When Christian went inside, Akta touched Henry’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “How could you think I would do that?” There was hurt in his voice, a hurt Akta would do anything to take away.

  “I don’t know. I just…last night was so perfect, I was so happy, that it’s hard to believe it was real.”

  “You’d rather believe I’m a jerk who would have done all of that as a publicity stunt?”

  “No, I’d rather believe you’re the guy I love, but I’m scared to be this happy.”

  Henry’s wings folded closed. “That I understand.”

  “I love you,” she whispered. Henry looked at her. “And I’m an idiot,” Akta added.

  Henry nodded. “That’s true.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, that was pretty dumb.”

  “I know.”

  “You owe me.” He released his hold on her and Akta took a deep breath.

  “I know that too. I’ll make you pancakes.”

  “You owe me more than pancakes.”

  “Morning blow job?”

  “Getting better, but still not enough.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  Henry grinned. “Say it.”

  “I’ll be you harem girl for twenty-four hours.”

  “With…”

  “With a costume and everything.” Akta had vetoed that item from Henry’s list. The man was devious—she had no doubt he could get up to some very naughty stuff if she gave him total control for a full twenty-four hours.

  Henry’s smile was distinctly smug. “It was almost worth it.”

  “I hope you know I’m only doing it because now you’re my fiancé.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you’re basically my harem girl anyway?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Uh, do you still need these?” Christian held up a pair of Akta’s jeans.

  “No, I’ve decided we’ll stay. At least until the next time Akta does something insane.”

  “Is that any way to talk about the woman you love?” Akta demanded.

  “Apparently it is if that woman is you.”

  “We should call the PR company or call Lena and Margo and make them deal with it.”

  Henry folded his arms. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t able to get a reservation on my own. I asked them for a good restaurant and to call in the reservation for me.”

  Akta took his hand. “That makes sense.”

  She grabbed her phone and called Lena back, explaining that she and Henry had been set up by the PR people. Thinking back, Akta remembered the older woman she’d thought looked familiar—she recognized her from their initial meeting with the company.

  “We’ll work on this,” Lena assured her. “You two just enjoy yourselves and get some rest before Friday.”

  Feeling like a complete idiot, Akta led Henry back to bed, where she showed him exactly how sorry she was. As they drifted back to sleep an hour later, she realized how true her words had been—she was happy. Totally and completely happy.

  And that terrified her.

  Akta carried the tray of beer and grapes to the couch. Henry sat up as she carefully set the tray down, almost dropping it when his hand slid up the back of her naked thigh, tugging at the plug buried in her ass.

  “Careful, slave girl.”

  Akta turned her head to glare at him, then passed him a beer. Henry was unrepentant, grinning at her as she seated herself on the couch. He took a sip, then pressed the side of the cold bottle against her nipples. Akta sucked in a breath, making the chain that dangled between the tips of her breasts dance. Henry gave it a light tug.

  “You are diabolical,” she moaned.

  “And you love it.”

  “No, I don’t. Actually, I changed my mind, I don’t even love you.”

  “Really? Well, that’s too bad. You still have to be my harem girl for another four hours.”

  Akta settled back into the corner of the couch, sitting cross-legged. Henry laid his head on her lap. The chain between her nipples dangled just over his face and he caught it in his mouth, tugging. Akta dug her nails into his chest as pleasure rippled through her. The chain was held in place not by clamps—which she wouldn’t have been able to wear for long—but by thin loops. A small bead allowed Henry to tighten the loops. He’d been quite proud of his various sex-toy purchases in preparation for this—even though he’d had to drive to the Valley to go to a sex-toy shop so he wouldn’t be recognized.

  “Just you wait,” she gasped, “until I make you be my harem boy.”

  “No. That’s not on my sex wish list.”

  “Well, it’s on mine.”

  Henry sat up and pulled Akta onto his lap. He was wearing boxers, which did nothing to hide his massive erection. They’d had sex less than an hour ago, but she was no longer surprised by his stamina. While Akta couldn’t remember exactly how many times they’d had sex since starting this little game, she could, with certainty, say that she was addicted to Henry.

  Each time just made her want him more. Every touch had her craving the next.

  Henry positioned her with her back against his chest. His cock settled into the crease of her ass, pressing against the base of the plug he’d pushed into her. His hands came around, cupping her breasts and flicking her nipples.

  Henry had made the startling discovery that if she was aroused enough, Akta could come from nipple stimulation alone. Since then, he’d been relentless about teasing and tugging the sensitive tips of her breasts.

  “Henry, please, just fuck me.”

  “What would be the fun in t
hat?”

  “The fucking,” Akta gasped. “The fucking would be the fun part.”

  “Spread you legs. More.”

  Akta spread her legs. Reaching up and back, she tangled her fingers in his hair as his fingers glided over the lips of her pussy. A stray touch to her clit had her jumping, had her hips thrusting up to meet his fingers.

  “Please.”

  “Not yet.”

  He reached forward and picked something up from the table in front of the couch, slipping it over his finger. The small vibrator looked almost like a finger brace but had a surprisingly powerful motor. Henry flicked it on, and the sound had Akta tensing as she waited for, anticipated, the next touch.

  He ran his finger up and down her belly, coming closer to her sex each time, but not touching it.

  “Akta.” He whispered her name as he kissed her shoulder, her neck. “Akta.”

  “Don’t make me wait,” she begged. “I want you.”

  Henry’s hand slid over her sex, his finger settling over her clit. Akta jumped as the sudden, intense vibrations trembled over her already sensitive clit.

  He reached lower, tugging and twisting the plug as he held the vibrator on her clit.

  Akta came, hands fisting in his hair, hips pumping in the air.

  Henry released her, and without prompting Akta turned around. Henry raised his hips and together they shoved his boxers down to his knees. Akta straddled him, needing him inside her. She tilted her hips, teased them both by rubbing her clit over the tip of his cock. Then she braced her hands on his shoulders, positioned herself over his cock and sank down.

  They both moaned as he slid in. Akta was acutely aware of the pressure of the plug in her ass, the tug of the chain on her nipples…and the weight of her engagement ring on her finger.

  “I love you,” she breathed against his temple.

  “I love you too.” Henry gripped her hips. “Move.”

  Grinning, Akta obeyed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I feel sick,” Cali whispered.

  Akta agreed, but she was too nervous to even say anything. They were in the balcony of one of the sneak preview theaters, waiting to see the audience’s reaction to the film. They’d limited the tickets and the number of theaters for the sneak peek. There were three showings here in LA, two in New York and another in Chicago.

  The reviews after last night’s critics’ screening were so scattered that they had no idea what to think. Some had claimed that Truth in Darkness was the “action movie the summer was waiting for”, seeming to miss the point. Others said nothing about the movie, but ranted about how this was all an elaborate PR stunt to sell action figures—close, but not quite right.

  Only the Los Angeles Times critic had addressed the issue that the monsters were real, and even then he had had a hard time believing it.

  Could it be true? Monsters have walked among us all this time? I come away from this movie knowing that’s what I’m meant to believe, but I don’t. The climax of the movie, when the hero is given the ability to change into a human so he can be with the heroine, explains how we might not have known about these apparently shape-shifting creatures, but I’m afraid it asks too much of my suspension of disbelief. It’s a good summer blockbuster if you ignore the proposition that the actors are not just men, but truly are the monsters they portray.

  “Here we go,” Cali said.

  She and Akta leaned over the rails, watching not the movie but the audience. They hadn’t wanted to risk test screenings, so this was a cold showing—if one part of the movie fell flat, it was too late to edit.

  The audience was engaged—gasping, laughing and jumping when appropriate. In the final scene, when Ebon shifts to human, there were mutterings in the crowd. Akta leaned forward.

  “If we can walk among the humans like this,” Ebon said to the king, “we can tell them the truth, we can tell them that we’re real.”

  The king shook his head. “Maybe someday, but they’re not ready, not yet.”

  “So we must remain shadows, myths,” Ebon said, Padma at his side.

  The king looked directly at the camera. “Someday they will be ready, and we will announce to them that we are real.”

  The music swelled and the screen cut to black. The credits rolled.

  The audience was silent…and then applause, punctuated by murmurs, filled the theater. People turned to their companions, whispering questions.

  “I think they get it—at least, some of them do.” Akta hoped the critics were just too cynical and that normal people would understand.

  Akta and Cali sneaked down the stairs to listen in as a marketing team conducted exit interviews.

  “What did you think of the movie?” a perky blonde asked an older woman.

  “It was good. I liked the love story.”

  “And what did you think of the monsters?”

  “They seemed nice enough. Even the bad guy was redeemed at the end.”

  “And do you believe that they’re real?”

  She chuckled. “Of course not.”

  “Yes, they are,” the man beside her said. “Don’t you get it? That’s the whole point of the movie.”

  “You think those creatures are real?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Oh, John, don’t be so silly.” The woman took her husband’s arm and pulled him away.

  Akta and Cali shared a glance. It was a start.

  “Ms. Patel, right this way.”

  Akta followed Christian through a back door into the club, Cali at her side.

  They’d confronted the PR company about taking photos of her engagement. Jack Vice hadn’t even pretended to deny it, saying instead that hiding in the days up to the premiere implied that they were ashamed of the movie. They’d used the fact that Henry had needed their help to secure reservations as a chance to get candid photos of a great human-interest story that would only up the profile of the lead actors in the days prior to the premieres.

  Calypso Productions’ plan for the week before release had been to keep everyone safe by maintaining a low profile. That plan had been squashed, so Akta, Cali, Henry and Seling were going clubbing, post sneak-preview screening. Jack was hoping they would get coverage both on audience reactions to the screenings and on the activities of the principals.

  Alex and the rest of the guards weren’t happy about it, especially because right now the team was spread across the country. Margo and Runako were in New York, observing the screening and then going out on the town with the VFX supervisor. Lena and Luke were in Chicago doing the same. Jo, Tokaki, Oren, Maeve and some of the other department heads were at other theaters in LA and would be photographed eating and drinking at a variety of celebrity spots.

  The security team was spread thin, and Akta couldn’t help looking over her shoulder as they wove their way through the kitchen.

  Henry and Seling had arrived an hour ago and posed for photos outside. Neither of them had been willing to let Akta and Cali do the same, deeming it too dangerous. At this point Akta wasn’t going to argue with them—she was too freaked out.

  Cali squeezed her hand. “It will be okay.”

  Akta looked over her shoulder. “Are you getting soft on me, Mercedes?”

  Cali snarled, “Don’t call me that.”

  “Just checking.”

  They entered the club, following Christian to the table the guys had staked out while Akta and Cali were still at the screening. Henry looked up as she approached.

  He looked good enough to eat, in tailored slacks and a trim-cut dress shirt open at the throat. Beside him, Seling wore jeans, a V-neck T-shirt and a priest-collar leather jacket. They were both devastatingly handsome.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but Akta thought she could feel the otherness emanating from them. They looked human, but they weren’t. Could the other people in the club feel it?

  Judging by the random club bunny trying to weasel her way into their VIP area by hanging on to Seling’s arm, the
y couldn’t.

  “Oh, I will rip that bitch’s weave out,” Cali growled, starting for the blonde.

  “Christian, stop her,” Akta yelped.

  The bodyguard tugged on Cali’s arm. “Ma’am, why don’t we get you a seat?”

  “Why don’t you give me your gun?”

  “I’m going to have to decline.”

  Akta ignored them as Henry rose to greet her. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. His hands pressed against her back, meshing their bodies together. She’d changed from the nondescript jeans-and-jacket combo to a sleek black dress. She wore her hair completely loose, something she rarely did, because she knew Henry liked it that way.

  “Woman, you’re crazy.” Seling’s words broke through the haze of rosy happiness caused by Henry’s kiss, and Akta pulled back just enough to check that there weren’t any bodies on the floor. The club bunny was flouncing away, her dress pulled askew as if she’d been manhandled. Cali was practically steaming.

  Henry wrapped an arm around her waist and faced the other couple.

  “I bet she slaps him,” Henry said.

  “No chance. She’ll kiss him, then slap him.”

  “Want to make it interesting?” Henry purred in her ear.

  Akta still hadn’t fully recovered from the twenty-four hours as his harem girl. “No.”

  “Coward.”

  “Sadist.”

  “How can I be a sadist?” Henry pulled her ass back against his hips, so she could feel his cock, which was hard as iron against her. “I haven’t even spanked you…yet.”

  Akta licked her lips and practiced breathing normally.

  “Why don’t we go home, and I can—”

  “Stop. Stop talking,” Akta hissed. “We’re supposed to be here showing everyone that we’re not worried about tomorrow.”

  “Right now I’m not worried about tomorrow. I am worried about how wet you are and—”

  “I created a monster,” she lamented.

  There was a beat and then Henry laughed. It was a real laugh, surprised and joyous.

  “What’s so funny?” Cali asked. She was breathing heavily from her tussle with the blonde, her literally heaving breasts rising above the top of the corset-style top she wore. Seling’s eyes were glued to her boobs.