Gods & Monsters: The Gods & Monsters Trilogy Book 1

by Janie Marie

  Dagonet, still looking shocked, nodded and left the room.

  “He will be fine, Gareth,” Gawain said.

  “Maybe. But we can never be too cautious. Jane is their biggest threat, and if we are keeping her away, we should still remain alert with Dagonet as well.”

  Jason sighed as he looked around his empty bedroom. Jane’s scent had already begun to fade. Every single cherished item of hers still sat in the space she had made for it. She only kept random trinkets like movie stubs to her favorite movies and little things the kids had made, nothing valuable.

  His gaze landed on a picture of Jane with the kids. She was smiling. He loved seeing her smile; it was rare, almost non-existent. It should have made him feel happy, but guilt caused him to see everything negatively.

  The picture wasn’t too old, it had been taken just before her friend’s death over a year ago. Jason knew she’d taken Wendy’s illness hard. He knew she was Jane’s only friend and had seen how devastated she was when it became clear Wendy wouldn’t make it. He’d understood her sadness but hated how she’d let herself slip away from him.

  He’d resented her for getting so depressed when Wendy got sick. He’d already dealt with Jane’s other problems, and it frustrated him when she’d let other people’s problems affect her so much.

  He realized now the way he’d behaved was wrong. He had put his needs as a man above those of his grieving wife. He had expected her to stop being so sad when she came home. He wanted her to treat their life as though nothing was wrong—as though she hadn’t just spent hours with her dying friend.

  Jason let out a low breath. He didn’t want to think about these things. He didn’t want the bad memories. But it seemed like that’s all he could think of now that she was gone. It had been six nights since she had left their home. He still couldn’t believe she was dead or that this plague was real—that it had taken her from him. He had always assumed she’d be there.

  From the beginning, he’d known Jane was different than most girls. That was what had drawn him to her. His pull toward her somewhat bothered him because he wasn’t interested in having a girlfriend, but the urge to be close to her was hard to fight. Of course, he always thought she was pretty; attractive girls were normal for Jason, but something about Jane possessed him.

  There were rumors about her, but for some reason he didn’t believe them. He had told her he’d listen, and he had. Part of him wished she hadn’t told him, though. Once he knew the reasons behind her guarded behavior, his rage knew no restraint. His teenage mind couldn’t deal with the weight of her problems. He didn’t understand how those who should have cherished her had chosen to hurt her in such sick and brutal ways, not to mention, those she loved had been taken away from her so painfully and abruptly.

  Jane had never been in Jason’s plans. He had no desire to get tied up in a serious relationship, but he couldn’t walk away. She consumed him, and he needed to protect her, take her pain away—save her. But he wanted her to be normal, too.

  She looked every bit normal. She would smile and laugh, but when you really observed her or noticed how she never looked you in the eye, you knew something was up. Jason had wanted the girl hidden inside.

  At first, he expected her to get better; most people got better after time passed. She had the potential to be an amazing person, and he thought once he came into the picture, she’d snap out of the sadness that had resulted from her cruel treatment. She didn’t.

  No, even if she seemed happy, there was a sadness that lingered with her. Instead of moving on, she held on to pain. Instead of being the great girlfriend that he could show off to his friends and family, she’d panic, and he’d be forced to leave her behind.

  He hated her for that, especially since she didn’t turn everyone away. She seemed to connect strongly with strangers and people who were outcasts or thugs. He didn’t understand it. Why would she want to be around them? She said they shared things in common, but they weren’t the people who’d put up with her through all her problems like he had. She should’ve connected with him—confided in him. Not these people he didn’t care for.

  Now he wondered if that had been a mistake. Perhaps he should have allowed her the chance to bond with people who shared a similar pain. But he’d taken that from her. He’d made her choose because he was jealous of the attention she’d given these people. She came alive around them, and he hadn’t liked it. He also hadn’t liked that many of these friends were men. Some had even lived wilder lifestyles than he would have expected her to approve of. But she accepted them. He hated that she let them off so easily for their wrongdoings.

  There’s no way he’d let another man have her company. He wasn’t stupid—he’d seen the way they looked at her—she was beautiful. She’d always been gorgeous, though he never remembered telling her that. It was a given, wasn’t it?

  Well, it didn’t matter now. She was gone, and those men would never get a chance to take her from him. If she hadn’t known he thought she was beautiful, that wasn’t his fault, and he wasn’t going to let some other man come and tell her what she should have known.

  She never let on that she would stray, but he knew if a man had been smart, he would’ve told her things that would turn her against him. They’d sympathize with her pain. She’d feel like they cared instead of him.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t care. He just didn’t want to put up with her crying and her depressive episodes. She should’ve been over her pain by now. She should’ve forgiven him for the things he’d done; they weren’t as serious as she made them out to be. After all, she forgave others so easily and understood their bad choices, why couldn’t she forget about his mistakes with her?

  She shouldn’t have had such high expectations of him. He was human. Everyone made mistakes. But she remembered everything! There was no way one person could remember so much, so clearly. Jason had convinced himself it was a grudge she’d developed.

  He admitted that he did wrong. It should have been forgotten. That’s what he was trying to do. Forget and move on.

  But she wouldn’t forget!

  She’d say she had forgiven him but still end up crying. There was no way to catch a break with her. It wasn’t like he had meant to hurt her.

  Jason let out an angry breath and gazed at her side of the bed.

  She had always curled up so far away from him. He loved having her soft body against him. All he’d wanted was to take her every second, but she never seemed to enjoy his touch. Well, not after he’d told her she was just his wife and pointed out his disgust over the stretch marks she’d gotten from her pregnancy—when he’d admitted he wasn’t in love with her.

  Why did being “in love” with her matter so much? He loved her. Why did she have to make it so complicated? Life wasn’t like the fairy tales she’d always talked about. She needed to grow up. He loved her, let her stay home to be a housewife—paid the bills and dealt with her issues. That should have been enough to show he cared. Those weren’t excuses to deprive him of his needs. Husbands had sex with their wives—she should have understood that.

  He looked away. This was only making him angrier. He kept telling himself not to think of these things, but he couldn’t stop. It was almost like she was still there, throwing his mistakes in his face.

  Jason noticed her medications. Stupid pills—they’d only made her worse. He roughly tossed them in the trash. He’d never got over how horrible she looked on them, like a zombie. His heart pounded at that thought. “She’s gone,” he whispered. “She didn’t turn.”

  He threw the last of her pills away. She’d only kept them because she said it wasn’t safe to throw them out. What did he care if some druggie got them? It wasn’t like there were drug addicts to worry about now.

  He stood up, considering if he should throw out or pack up the rest of her belongings. No, not yet.

  He was about to leave when he glanced at their laptop. “I’m such an asshole,” he muttered to himself before he groaned and
ran his hand through his hair, refusing to acknowledge why she’d looked so broken. So worthless. “Stop thinking. Please, God, let me forget.”

  Maybe this was punishment. Punishment for all his sins—all his lies to her. God, how she hated lies, small ones even. They were only little lies, but he’d known what he was doing. At first, he’d only wanted to keep her from being upset. However, if he were honest, that wasn’t the only reason. He was ashamed that he’d disappoint her, and instead of owning up to his shame, he’d made her feel crazy for her accurate accusations.

  He hadn’t understood how perceptive she could be. She read people so easily, almost as if she could sense a person’s genuineness or their malicious intentions. She’d seen through him, and instead of mending their failing relationship, he pushed her away and began to drink away his stress. Jane hated alcohol of any kind; it brought back horrible memories for her. Even when she asked him to stop, he brushed her off. He could do what he wanted.

  “Fuck,” he yelled, kicking aside a toy he’d stepped on. This had to be punishment, and it would never stop because he couldn’t make up for it.

  “I’m sorry, Jane,” he whispered before leaving his room and heading to the kitchen.

  His home was slowly turning into a trash dump. Jason leaned down to pick up an empty water bottle to refill. Luckily, the water still ran, and the electricity hadn’t gone out, but he knew it would go off one day.

  They had fewer supplies now. He wasn’t sure how he would ensure their survival with Jane gone. He couldn’t leave the kids alone, and he understood Jane’s risk-taking now. She’d kept their chances of survival up.

  A faint knock at the window nearly caused him to drop the bottle. He tensed and stayed completely silent.

  “Mr. Winters,” a deep voice called.

  Jason didn’t know if he should respond, so he waited.

  The man spoke again. “Mr. Winters, we are soldiers who want to help you and your family. We’ve brought you some supplies.”

  “How do you know who I am?” Jason asked, keeping his voice low as he walked closer. It could be someone trying to take his stuff. He grabbed his bat.

  “Sir, we met your wife—Jane.” Jason held his breath. “She told us where we could find you and asked us to aid you. We mean you no harm. Let us help you and your children.”

  Jason debated whether he could trust this person. There was really no choice, and if Jane told someone where to find their house, she had trusted them.

  “All right,” he said. “Let me clear this stuff away.”

  Jason began shifting around the barricaded hall.

  Finally, he had made way and lifted the window that revealed two men in black uniforms. Jane had been right, they were soldiers. They gave him genuine smiles, but Jason was unsettled by the vibrancy of the first man’s eyes. It didn’t look natural. He didn’t look natural. The second man disturbed Jason even more because his eyes were black.

  Jason’s instincts told him to be fearful, but Jane had trusted them. He had to have faith that this was her final blessing. He felt awful now for putting her down because she didn’t get help from them the first time. “Please come in.”

  “Thank you,” they said.

  The man with bright eyes climbed through first, and turned to take the bags from the black-eyed man. After him, the black-eyed man entered.

  They glanced around the room and their expressions fell when they took in the disorder that had overtaken his home.

  Jason looked around, embarrassed. “I know it’s a mess, but I can’t do much about it now.”

  “Not at all,” the first man said, dismissing his apology. “Let us introduce ourselves. I am Gawain, and this is Dagonet.”

  Jason shook their hands. They were strong. He almost winced but kept from showing his discomfort. He had a feeling they were restraining themselves already. They did not look like simple soldiers. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jason Winters.”

  “The pleasure is ours,” said Dagonet. “We brought a good supply of drinks and food, along with some personal hygiene items. If there is anything else you might require, let us know. We are willing to search for it.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Jason whispered, looking at the bags of food in shock. “I was beginning to lose hope. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get more for us.” He cleared his throat from the sudden hoarseness that escaped. “She got infected and decided to leave. When did you see her?”

  “We came to her aid a week ago and then again shortly after,” said Gawain. “We wanted to help her and this is a way we can. It’s not much, but we hope it makes matters easier on your family. We know you are all suffering right now, and we offer our deepest sympathies.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered, feeling that terrible pain in his chest again. “Were you with her when—”

  Gawain gave him a tight smile. “We did what we could to help her.”

  Jason nodded and was about to speak again when Nathan and Natalie stumbled into the kitchen.

  “Daddy,” Natalie whispered, glancing cautiously between the two men. Nathan was right behind her, peeking around but avoiding eye contact with anyone.

  Jason stared at his children, still a little worried, but when he looked back at the two men, he was surprised to see Gawain’s face had lit up upon settling on Natalie.

  Dagonet also looked at them fondly. It was a bit strange to see them reacting so strongly toward a little boy and girl they didn’t even know, but Jason figured it would be a blessing to find children safe at all now.

  Gawain knelt on one knee in front of Natalie. “Hello, sweetheart. My name is Gawain, and this is Dagonet.” He pointed behind him.

  “I’m Natalie, and this is Nathan,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  Gawain smiled at her. “We brought you supplies, and Dagonet has something special for you.”

  Instantly, both children looked to Jason for approval. They had not looked so hopeful in the past week. He couldn’t help but smile at their small joy and nodded when the other two men chuckled.

  Hesitantly, Dagonet stepped forward and held out a doll. “I hope you like princesses.”

  Natalie nodded eagerly, not taking her eyes off the toy. She didn’t hesitate to snatch it up and hug it to her chest.

  “What do you say, Natalie?” Jason prompted her.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled into the doll’s hair.

  “You are very welcome. This is for you, Nathan.” He reached back into the bag and pulled out a T-Rex plush.

  Surprisingly, a smile formed on Nathan’s lips, and without showing any nervousness, he walked up to Dagonet. He wrapped his hand around the dinosaur’s arm and then threw his arms around Dagonet’s neck.

  “Dragony,” Nathan said, completely mispronouncing the man’s name.

  Jason was speechless. Nathan loved dinosaurs, of course, but he never hugged people. Except Jane.

  Slowly, with a strange sadness to his smile, Dagonet hugged Nathan back. “You’re welcome, Nathan.”

  Jason shook his head as he watched Nathan and Natalie drag Dagonet to the living room. They were all smiles as Nathan pulled the man toward his pile of toys.

  Jason looked back at Gawain. “Thank you again. They haven’t been this happy in a long time. It has been very difficult for them since Jane left.”

  Gawain shifted awkwardly. “I’m glad we could make them happy for the moment. Is there anything else we can get you?”

  Jason picked up on his sudden discomfort but chose not to voice his curiosity. “No. Thank you. You have done more than enough.”

  “No need to thank us. We will be close by, and I will make sure we check on you again. I think we’d best be off now. Dagonet.”

  They entered the living room together and found Dagonet holding a dinosaur, roaring at the kids as they giggled.

  Gawain let out a light laugh before squatting down next to them. “I am afraid that Dagonet and I must leave now. But I promise we will return to check on yo
u.”

  Both children frowned, but Natalie nodded and stepped up to Gawain before wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replied, suddenly looking like he didn’t want to let go of her. “We will see you again.”

  Jason led them back to the window. He almost regretted that they had to leave. It had been so long since he had seen anyone besides Jane and the kids. It made him wonder how she dealt with never talking to anyone but him.

  “Take care, Mr. Winters,” said Dagonet.

  Jason nodded and shook his hand before he watched him ease back out the window. “Please call me Jason.” They nodded with smiles while Gawain shook his hand. “And thanks again.”

  “It was our pleasure,” said Gawain.

  Both men gave one last glance at the children before leaving Jason alone with his thoughts once again.

  SORE DIDN’T COME CLOSE to describing what Jane felt. She opened her eyes and blinked several times as her senses came alive.

  The beeping monitors and hissing sound from the oxygen mask made her head throb, but she quickly gathered she wasn’t dead. Death probably felt wonderful compared to the pain she was in.

  The blurry images of a ceiling let her know she was back at the base house. Jane glanced at her chest to see the damage. She remembered the werewolves, the mutated werewolves, Lancelot, and the blow she’d taken. It still hurt. She felt like she was being squeezed but at the same time, ripped wide open.

  The oxygen mask obstructed her view, but she saw someone had bandaged her up. There was a tube sticking out of her side. She also had two intravenous catheters with fluids running through her left arm. One obviously delivering blood, and she assumed the other bag to be standard fluids. Besides all the pain, a noticeable pressure between her legs caught her attention.

  Oh, God, they put a urinary catheter in me! Her embarrassment soared to new heights as she immediately wondered who exactly would have put it in. She prayed it wasn’t David and tried not to think on it too much. They’d saved her life—that’s what mattered.