My Monster

by Einat Segal

  I’m pretty awesome, but I’m sort of ready to be better than I am.

  What I’m not ready for is to go back to life, to start a routine, to create a “normal” without my dad in it. But then Monday finds me, and it all starts.

  Back to school.

  On the bus, Esmeralda tries to act normal by talking about the fight she had with Ophelia, how they made up two hours later, and it’s like they love each other more now. Must be nice, to love with abandon. She finishes talking and then naps like a cat with her head in my lap. Makes me feel peaceful.

  School is filled with the usual people I despise. Everyone gives me funny looks. Oh, it’s that girl whose dad died. I glower at them until I seem crazy enough to scare them and remind them that with Ashley gone, I’m the only possible serial killer in the school.

  Landon isn’t in school. He’s still got the sphinx stuff to deal with and thinks it’s best he stay away from crowded places. But then I see Shawn in calculus.

  It’s like my heart it being cleaved out of my chest. I’m guilty. I’m a cheater, which is funny because Shawn and I have no obligations toward one another, and our relationship is completely platonic.

  Still, my mind goes in confused circles when I see him. He smiles at me and gives me a casual wave from across the classroom as I take my seat. Then I turn to look at him again. He’s got his arm draped over Gretchen Harvey, and there, my guilt trip is over.

  I’m not angry or anything, but honestly? Shawn’s pathetic.

  The best way to describe Gretchen is to compare her to me.

  When it comes to looks, with her perfectly straight, thick light-brown hair and gigantic doe-like blue eyes, plus her dancer’s body, you can say she’s my equal. I do have a better ass than her, and no one can beat my lips, but she’s got me in the eye department—although such innocent eyes would be wasted on me.

  But then if you compare our personalities, it’s safe to say that we’re polar opposites. Where Gretchen is friendly, I’m unfriendly. Where Gretchen is kind, I’m unkind. Where Gretchen is polite, I’m mean, and where Gretchen is good, I’m bad.

  Everyone knows that Gretchen is still a virgin, but probably not for long. She giggles at something Shawn says, her eyelashes fanning like butterfly wings. I realize that I’m staring. I look somewhere else.

  As I pull out my calculus notebook from my bag, I picture Shawn’s list. Number twenty-one, I think to myself, Gretchen Harvey . . . Since she’s the one who comes after me, she’ll score one out of five.

  * * *

  That day, I somehow end up partnered with Shawn during AP biology lab. Usually, I partner with Debbie Fisher, a girl who is so shy, I have no idea what her voice sounds like. We always do our lab experiments in silence, and I’m extremely satisfied with the notion that I intimidate the hell out of her. She’s so meek, I think a bunny is her spirit animal. Debbie’s not in school today, and Shawn ditches Trevor Hanks to fill in.

  At first, we focus on our assignment, and there’s the usual banter we developed over the past week, but when Mrs. Edna starts snoring, I put down the petri dish and give him a searching look.

  “So,” I say in a low voice only for him to hear, “Gretchen Harvey?”

  “It’s not what you think,” he says instantly.

  “How would you know what I think?”

  He bumps his shoulder to mine. “I know you, Fee. I know how your brain works.”

  “Just seems lame,” I say with a shrug. “Gretchen is a good girl. You’re a bad boy. Sounds like a cliché teen novel.”

  “Exactly. She’s the kind of girl for dating, not for screwing around with.”

  I narrow my eyes suspiciously at Shawn. “I’m not buying this ‘new leaf’ crap you’re trying to pull.”

  “Well, yeah, I’m trying. Why does that bother you so much?”

  “It doesn’t,” I say, my voice high.

  “You know what? The list thing was only a phase,” he says quietly so no one can hear. “But you . . . well, you ended that phase.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  We fall into silence as both of us concentrate on peeling the skin off chickpeas. “Um, Fee . . .”

  “What?”

  “I know you went to see Landon. I came by your house on Saturday because I didn’t know that shava thing was over—”

  “It’s shiva,” I say.

  “After he breaks your heart again, wait a while before coming to me. I want the next time we date to be better.”

  “First of all, he didn’t break my heart. He freaked me out—”

  “You’re unbelievably dense sometimes.” Shawn humphs and looks up before shaking his head at me. “You were freaking out because your heart was broken.”

  “No, I was freaking out because he’s . . .” I bite my lips, noticing a few curious glances shot our way. “Anyway, dream on, Shawn. We’re not going to date ever again.”

  He leans his elbows on the table, twining his fingers together so he can set his chin on the backs of his palms and look up at me with knowing blue eyes. “Maybe . . . or maybe not. Maybe by the time you realize that you love me, I’ll be out of your reach.”

  “Yeah,” I say with mock eagerness. “Maybe you can marry Gretchen and have beautiful blue-eyed babies.”

  “Gretchen is actually very nice,” he says defensively.

  “Oh, and let’s not forget the golden retriever, the white picket fence, and the road trip to Disney World. And on weekends, you’ll be wearing polo shirts underneath your V-neck sweater.” I grin stiffly. “I’ve got your whole life planned out, Shawn, down to your clothes. Now you can’t say I’m not thorough.”

  He visibly sighs.

  We both start when Mrs. Edna gives out a particularly loud snore.

  * * *

  I don't think my mom likes Landon as much as she likes Shawn. She doesn't treat him badly or anything, but she gives off this vibe.

  I get to confirm this many times, as, with the coming weeks, Landon's around a lot. But I don’t care. Mom’s more comfortable around Shawn because he’s practically family, and I think she’s into dark-skinned boys and doesn’t care for blonds. Landon and I spend even more time together than we did the first time we dated, and there are days I can almost forget about what he is.

  Almost.

  It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon in June. Prom and graduation are right around the corner. We walk in the woods behind my house. Esmeralda and Ophelia were here until ten minutes ago, but now we're thankfully alone.

  And I think I'm ready to look the problem in the eye. "Landon, why did they attack you on the hill?"

  He answers without hesitation. “The wyvern of Mexico and his clan were in on my plan to bring back magic, but there were a few points we disagreed upon. They were watching me, looking for an excuse to turn against me, and then I used my gift. Among us immortals, I'm considered a monster because of the intrusive nature of my gift—I can steal the life of an immortal forever. But they also distrust me because of my alliance with Sutherland. They think it's the Black Death and the Ivory Gryphon all over again.”

  “The Ivory Gryphon was a royal one like you?” I ask.

  “He was greater than me. Among the Ziz, I was the smallest of them all. That’s why I’m known as Little One.”

  “Little One? Pffft, I can confirm you’re not so little.”

  “This body has to be the best I’ve ever had,” he says brightly.

  When he says that, I’m cold all over. There’s so much distance here, it’s crazy. Sometimes I can’t even fathom who he is.

  “And there's another thing too . . ." he goes on, but hesitates.

  I should show some sort of sympathy, so I reach out and take his hand. "What is it?" I ask.

  "Well, everything that's happening now, with the magic fading, it's kind of my fault."

  "Wow, really?" I know, inappropriate reaction, but he says it like he's the person who pushed that big red end-of-the-world button.

  "It
was my plan, un-naming the Black Death. I’ve always been inventive with magic. I wasn’t the most powerful, but I knew how to use what I had to the best effect. So I had an idea, and everyone listened to me. We were desperate; the Black Death wanted to take our freedom away. He had big plans. We couldn’t let that ever happen. But I was wrong.”

  “What were his plans?” I keep him talking. Maybe at some point, all of this will make sense, or maybe I won’t have to ask the question I need to ask.

  “There’s no evolution among immortals. Our numbers are almost always the same. He wanted there to be more of us. He wanted us to reproduce.”

  “Monsters don’t reproduce? Like a she-gryphon and a he-gryphon can’t have baby gryphons?”

  “It can happen—it did—but it’s extremely rare.”

  “How come?”

  “Well, first, there have to be two immortals of the same species who aren’t siblings, who are attracted to each other, who have equal aspirations toward power, and who are genetically compatible. Then after the mating takes place, the couple has to decide who the leader is. What happened in the case of my clan, Revenna mated thousands of years ago with a great gryphon whose name is forgotten. She killed him and then found the twelve of us—we were human children born to different families, and when our gryphon counterpart hatched, we were all very confused. Once we were old enough and she discovered our unusual gift, her mate had already reincarnated. She made us destroy our father forever.”

  “Yikes.”

  “He would have done the same to her. We truly are monsters, Sophie. We don’t have the same values that guide humanity.”

  “Sounds pretty close to humanity to me.” I shake my head. It still doesn’t feel real. It feels far away. Esmeralda once took me to play Dungeons and Dragons with her group of weirdos, and right now, Landon’s like that Dungeon Master who was telling us detailed descriptions about what was happening. I couldn’t follow anything.

  “If it’s so hard, how did the Black Death plan to make you all reproduce?” I ask.

  “He wanted to organize it all. He wanted to assign mating partners to each one of us. He saw it as a function that would change the world.”

  “But, why? What would that achieve?”

  “It would have obliterated humanity, Sophie. Every child born would be an immortal. He wanted everyone to be immortal. There’s the human world, and there’s our world, which we keep secret. He wanted there to be just one world and no more secrets.”

  “Wouldn’t that have destroyed the whole reincarnation thing, though?”

  “Eventually, reincarnating would no longer be necessary. We would grow out of humanity, and live like the creatures of the woodlands and the wastelands, one long, unending existence. Except we’d have the power to govern ourselves, the hierarchy. Gryphons rule all the creatures, and the dragons are their overlords.”

  I reach out for a nearby tree, still not feeling anything in particular about this whole conversation. “That’s a crappy plan. There’re so many places it could go wrong. I can see humanity rebelling against the idea, for starters.”

  “And there was also how he planned to make us obey,” Landon continues. At least he’s enjoying himself. I think soon it will be time to head back. I need him more naked and less talking.

  And I won’t ask my question today.

  “He wanted to place a geas on each and every one of us.”

  “A gush?”

  “No, a geas. It’s a type of curse. The strongest compulsion between immortals that lasts through every lifetime. There are many types of geas, and each type has its uses. All of them have a breaking clause; certain requirements have to be met for the curse to be lifted. But no one tells you what you have to do to break the geas since that’d defeat the purpose.”

  “Are you under one? Or did you curse someone?”

  “It’s impossible to talk about a geas, both as the victim and the proprietor.”

  I blink. “Heavy stuff.”

  Suddenly, he looks at me, tilting his head to the side. “Sophie?” He takes a step toward me, grabbing me around the waist, and then pushes me gently until my back meets a tree. “You don’t like this, do you?”

  “No, it’s all very interesting,” I admit. It is. It’s not boring. It’s just weird.

  “You’re tense. I’ve been hearing your heartbeat. Something’s bothering you.”

  I look into his eyes. I never noticed before, but when our gazes meet, his eyes flare gold just for a second. “I’m a troubled teen. Literally everything’s bothering me.”

  His hand comes up to cup my cheek, but then his fingers trail down to my collarbone. “We can talk about something else,” he says in a low voice. “Or do something el—"

  “Why do you need me?” I blurt out loudly.

  His eyes widen. He takes a step back and blinks at me and then lowers his gaze to the ground.

  I’m exasperated, and I don’t know why. “How do I fit into your plan? There’s something you’re not telling me. Am I a monster too?”

  He looks at me, the set of his face soft. “You’re not immortal, Sophie.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. Well, at least it’s not that. But I still don’t know what it is. “Then what is it? Do you really expect me to believe . . . Do you honestly think I’d believe that you fell for me just because I’m cute? I’m not dumb.”

  “Let’s skip this question, Sophie,” he says.

  “Why? Because I won’t like the answer?”

  He steps back up to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Sophie, right now I need you because I love you. Nothing else matters.” That adoring look in his eyes is disarming.

  “You’re really not going to tell me? And you expect me to just go with it?”

  He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I’ll tell you, I promise. I’m just asking for more time. You’re right, there was a reason I approached you, and it’s something you need to hear, but it’s not something I can just talk about lightly. Can you try to trust me, Sophie?”

  I absolutely can’t trust him.

  But I don’t know what comes over me. It’s like he simply bypasses everything that makes me, me, and talks to that little irrational girl who lives in the back of my brain. “Why do I have a feeling this is going to explode in my face?”

  He smiles and runs his hands down from my shoulders, tracing the shape of my body. I shouldn’t be in the mood right now, but I can’t not be in the mood when he touches me like this. “I can make something explode in your face if you want,” he says with a suggestive wink.

  That coaxes a chortle out of me. Such lewd talk—he just knows how to get to me.

  Fine, let’s continue living lies. That worked out for us so well the first time.

  But, whatever.

  * * *

  “Hey, Landie, you’re looking a bit gloomy,” I say that night in bed.

  “Am I?”

  “Something on your mind?”

  He turns to face me, burying his arm under the pillow. “I’m worried about a lot of things.”

  “Anything in particular?”

  He turns his gaze up for a moment to think. “Will I ever be free?”

  “Aren’t you free now? I thought Sutherland said you killed Revenna . . .”

  His face grows serious. I can see his eyes shining in the dark. “Yes, I killed her, and her name isn’t gone, but the thing is . . .” He closes his mouth and turns onto his back. “She didn’t reincarnate. I would’ve known. I’m worried. There are ways to meddle with the natural order, but all of them end badly for everyone.”

  “You’re thinking the sphinxes or whatever have her?”

  “That’s what Sutherland says. It’s going to be very shitty if he’s right.”

  Landon stays over again that night. When sex is involved, I’m pretty much like a man. I just don’t see the point of thinking with my brain when other parts of my body, combined with Landon, manage to give me so much gratification.

  It
’s scary to think what will happen if Landon and I don’t work out. How do you continue life after being spectacularly pleasured by a thousand-year-old supernatural creature? Shawn was good, extremely good, but I doubt that’s the regular standard among humans. It’s annoying that he comes into my mind uninvited whenever I fuck Landon.

  Speaking of Shawn, that Sunday afternoon, he calls me.

  “Fee, I’m on my way to your house. I need to talk to you. It’s important,” he says.

  “By ‘on your way,’” I say, “you mean . . . ?”

  “I just pulled over by your house.”

  “Landon’s here,” I say.

  “Cool.”

  Oh yeah? He’s cool with Landon? I hang up the phone. “Shawn’s—” I begin.

  Landon meets my gaze. “I heard.”

  “And you’re cool with this, right?”

  “I think Shawn’s a great guy,” he says nonchalantly. “Has a good smell and he’s nice to look at.”

  Oh. Wow. I feel a hot flash as I suddenly picture the image of Landon and Shawn naked together. I forget to speak, and gape at him. Then I try to shake that out of my mind, feeling perplexed over the fact that I’m extremely turned on even though I wasn’t even in the picture. Dammit brain, what the hell?

  “You’re into guys, too?” I ask, swallowing because my throat is dry.

  “Among immortals, gender isn’t binary and sexual preference isn’t a religion. We find pleasure with our human bodies regardless of mortal cultural constraints.”

  The doorbell rings, and I get up. “So, you monsters just have huge sex parties all the time?” I ask as we trudge down the stairs together.

  Landon gives me a naughty grin. “Pretty much. We’re either killing each other or hooking up.”

  “Wait, so you and Suther—” I try.

  “No,” he replies tersely, his face growing dark.

  I reach the door and yank it open. Shawn stands there, and he and Landon instantly begin staring each other down like two male dogs that meet in the street. My fantasy is shattered. Nobody’s cool with this.