The Monsters in Your Neighborhood

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The Monsters in Your Neighborhood Page 5

by Jesse Petersen


  Natalie peered over her shoulder with a look that she hoped read Help me, but if it did, Alec was in no position to do so. He was too busy dragging Igor’s bag along, glaring at the two of them like they were in cahoots.

  This was the worst day. Ever.

  6

  Alec glared at their unwelcome houseguest, but if Igor noticed his dour expression, the assistant ignored it. Actually, that was probably one of his monster superpowers: ignoring when he wasn’t wanted.

  Instead, the strange little man swept up a pair of candlesticks Natalie kept on the console table near the door and cooed, “Well, aren’t these familiar!”

  Natalie brought out a couple of Diet Cokes and a bottle of water. She handed one of the sodas to Alec and forced a smile for Igor.

  “Yeah, yeah, I took that from my . . . well, from the old place.”

  “So, Gothic, probably worth a ton,” Igor said with a shake of his head. “Your dad did always have good taste. I do miss him.”

  Natalie swallowed, and Alec was honestly shocked that she was keeping it together so well. Although she sometimes called Dr. Frankenstein her “father,” she rarely let anyone else get away with it. He could see a little twitch forming next to her right eye. Hopefully there would be no replacing that body part; it was always so disconcerting when she had to do it . . .

  “So”—he rushed to change the subject from the doctor who had created her—“what’s with the accent?”

  “Oh yes, that.” Igor laughed. “I moved to the United States back in . . . God, I guess it was ’98.”

  “1998?” Natalie asked.

  “1898,” Igor corrected. “Did odd jobs, lots of assisting with important people. But you know the drill. After a certain amount of time, they start to notice you aren’t exactly aging properly, so you have to move on. I ended up in Atlanta about fifteen years ago, and that accent is almost like a virus. You just can’t help but pick it up. I work with an interior decorator now.”

  Alec blinked. He was starting to understand a lot more about Igor. He was kind of like a parasite. He locked on to those with power, made himself indispensable, and became whatever they wanted him to be. Maniacal with Frankenstein, perhaps tough and reliable with someone running wagons out West, a little effeminate and full of darlings and fashion advice for the interior decorator.

  Basically, he was a walking, mutable cliché.

  “I’m sure you have some tales to tell,” Natalie said through what seemed to be suddenly clenched teeth. “But I wonder if I could look at the records you brought.”

  “Of course,” Igor said with a shake of his head as he dragged a thick book from the smaller of his two bags. The larger one had already been put in the spare room. It was Alec’s study room, but it still had a bed.

  Lucky. Them.

  Natalie took the book with a shiver. “So these are his records?”

  Igor nodded. “Your father’s? Yes. The first half is really about the failed experiments, but you’ll see a log of the Creatures, you included, as well as the outcome of their existences.”

  Natalie nodded, but Alec saw the tension around her eyes. He could hardly blame her. What she was about to look at was bigger than a birth certificate. It was a history of something ugly and painful. Something that had destroyed families and lives and sent her running from mobs and killers more than once.

  She hesitated, then flipped the book open. She immediately paged past the first half of the book without looking.

  “I—I don’t really care about the experiments,” she explained, though Alec wasn’t sure if that was for his benefit or Igor’s, or just to fill the quiet because she was uncomfortable. “But these . . .”

  She looked down, and Alec moved closer so he could look over her shoulder at the records. Each page contained information about a Creature. Dr. Frankenstein had been very thorough. He included which graves he had stolen from, the dates of each robbery, and any subsequent attempts at reanimation.

  The first ten or so attempts were failures on some level or another. No reanimation, one explosion, a couple partial reanimations, and then . . . the first Creature who had survived more than a few hours.

  “The original,” Natalie whispered as she ran a finger over the brittle, yellowing paper. She read further. “Destroyed by mob.”

  Alec touched her shoulder, though she didn’t seem to notice. She just stared at the page a few more seconds, then flipped to the next Creature.

  “Killed by mob,” she repeated, and turned the page.

  It ran like that for five or six of her brethren, until April 6, 1758.

  The first female version of the monster was written on the page.

  “That’s me,” Natalie whispered.

  Alec scanned over the page and the details of the graves that had been robbed to create his girlfriend. To “birth” her.

  In the notes for where she had ended up, the last line read: Left for America, whereabouts unknown.

  “You were the first survivor,” Alec said, impressed down to his soul at her resilience.

  Igor seemed to appear from nowhere at Natalie’s elbow, and he smiled. “You were! Victor was very proud of that fact.”

  Natalie flinched. “As if he had anything to do with it.”

  Igor frowned at the poison in her tone. “Either way, now I can update the record.”

  She jerked her face toward him. “Don’t you dare! Leave me as whereabouts unknown.”

  He frowned, but she returned her attention to the book and cut off anything else he might have said about the subject.

  “Okay, so let’s see if anyone else is poking about.” She turned the pages faster now, not reading any details. “Dead, dead, suicide, killed by mob, killed by farmer, killed by army, dead— Oh, this one was a little slow and fell into a pond after tripping on a rock . . .”

  Igor shook his head sadly. “They weren’t all perfect specimens, that’s for sure.”

  “So it’s dead?” Alec asked.

  Natalie swallowed. “Dead.”

  “Shit, there were a lot of Creatures,” Alec breathed.

  She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Yes. He was obsessed. Even when he was forced out of one place, he started again in the next. Once he knew the secret of life, of being God, he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to play with it like it just was Play-Doh or a Tinkertoy. He was sick.”

  “Not sick,” Igor said, and his tone was hurt. “He wanted to perfect his methods, his experiments.”

  Natalie jerked her face toward him. “We weren’t experiments—we were living things.”

  She returned her attention to the book, but Alec had seen her face. Monstrous. An expression he rarely saw from her in all her even-keeled control.

  “Look,” she said, ignoring the tension. “Here’s another who survived. A male subject. Created once Frankenstein was forced to flee Europe, so he was made in Kazakhstan.” She leaned back. “I had no idea he went so far east.”

  “He did, for several years,” Igor explained. “We lived in seclusion, but he could not stop himself from creating. We were chased out shortly after the birth of this one. And when we returned to Europe, we were met with the mob that ultimately killed Victor.” He shook his head.

  She stared at the page. “It says this one disappeared into the night during your escape. What happened to him?”

  “He was a more advanced version of your father’s work,” Igor said, stepping away from them to pace the small room. “Like you. And he grew to despise Victor. Once he left, once your father was dead, I tracked him for a while. He traveled Europe and must have been able to mask his true identity, also like you. I haven’t caught a whiff of him for over a hundred years. Unlike the other two.”

  “Other two?” Natalie repeated, her eyes widening as she flipped the page. There were two more Creatures who had been created right at the same time. A female and another male. “My God,” she whispered.

  “All this time you’ve thought you were alone, and they wer
e out there,” Alec said with a shake of his head. “Three more Creatures.”

  She nodded. “But you said you knew more about the other two.” She scanned the record. “The female lived in London up until 1948, but then what?”

  “She helped in the war effort, took in children who were orphaned by the bombing.” Igor smiled. “But after that, I don’t know. I believe she’s still in Europe.”

  “And the other male?” Natalie asked. “The Creature in Central Park was male. So what about him?”

  “He lived in Poland for a while, floated to Spain during the war, then England for a short time. Then he came to Canada—Toronto was his last known whereabouts, about fifteen years ago. I believe him to still be there.”

  Alec stared at him. “But it would be easy for him to come down here to New York. Hell, it’s a half-day train ride at best.”

  “True,” Igor conceded with a shrug. “So your Central Park Creature could be either one, I suppose. My vanishing Creature or the Toronto Creature. I watched the video and, honestly, I couldn’t tell. It’s been a long time; I’d have to see a good look at their faces to be certain.”

  “Did they have names?” Natalie asked. “Did they call themselves something?”

  “Otto was the one who vanished,” Igor said without having to think twice. “And the other went by Cain up until he disappeared in Canada.”

  “Cain,” Alec repeated. “As in Cain and Abel?”

  “The dark brother,” Natalie whispered. “The killer marked by God.”

  “Yeah . . . sounds like he might be our man,” Alec said with a quick glance in her direction. Her face was so pale, her eyes so dull and devoid of emotion, that he hardly recognized her. “You okay?”

  She blinked like she’d forgotten he was there, and then nodded with a weak smile as she shoved the book aside and got to her feet.

  “I’m fine, but I need to go meet Kai for our . . . our other appointment for the day,” she said.

  “Oh!” Igor said as he got up and folded his arms. “You have to go? I have so much to talk to you about! But I guess we’ll have all week, so we’ll have time to gab.”

  Natalie swallowed and sent Alec a quick look of apology before she said, “A whole week, huh? Well, that is something.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay to go?” Alec asked, taking her arm to draw her a little away from their uninvited houseguest. “You’ll have to be sharp at Van Helsing’s.”

  She nodded. “The crisp air on my walk will snap me out of this. I know I need to focus. I’ll be fine. Will you be okay with him? Weren’t you supposed to meet up with Rehu to check on Drake?”

  Alec squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, yes. I forgot, and he’ll be here in, like, half an hour, too. I’ll just . . . take Igor with us, I guess. He knows what and who we are, right? It isn’t like we have to shield ourselves.”

  She patted his cheek. “Ah, you, always looking on the bright side.”

  “Wolves are very optimistic creatures, you know.”

  She blinked as she stared at him. “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know, but you smiled, so I win.” He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Text me when you get to Van Helsing’s and when you leave, okay?”

  “Okay, okay.” She glanced over his shoulder to talk to Igor. “I shouldn’t be long. You can hang out with Alec and some of our . . . friends.”

  “Can’t wait,” Igor said with a bright smile. “See you later!”

  “Oh, and Alec,” she said. “Check the Twitter stream again, will you? For our little . . . hashtag problem thingy.”

  He nodded, his lips thinning with concern at the thought. Natalie grabbed her purse and slipped through the door with just one quick glance at Alec. Then she was gone, and he turned to face Igor with a scowl.

  The assistant met his expression with a smile. “So, how are Wolf Man and Creature working out, anyway?”

  “Um, none of your business?” Alec said as he started gathering up his own things so they could go as soon as Rehu buzzed up.

  “Okay, touchy!” Igor laughed. “I was just wondering. You don’t like me much, do you?”

  Alec pondered that question. “All I know is that Natalie has worked really hard to become who she is. You being here reminds her of what she started as, and I don’t like her being hurt.”

  Igor’s smile slipped. “Well, I don’t want to hurt her, either.”

  Alec stared at the smaller man. He couldn’t tell if he was full of shit, full of angles, or actually concerned for Natalie’s well-being. But if they were going to spend the evening together, that might be a start to determine his motives.

  The buzzer sounded from downstairs and Alec jumped. “Seriously, he is so early.”

  Igor got up. “So we get to see the Big City, huh? I’ll just follow your lead on how to behave.”

  Alec rolled his eyes and motioned for the assistant to follow him. They walked down the stairs to the lobby, with Igor talking the entire time. About nothing. Alec wasn’t even sure it was English; it sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown at some point.

  He pushed open the door to find Rehu standing outside, arms folded, looking irritated. Also pretty intimidating. Even Igor trailed off and stared up at the tall, imposing Egyptian.

  “You’re late,” Rehu sneered, then looked past Alec to Igor. “Who’s that?”

  “Rehu, meet Igor. Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant,” Alec said on a sigh. “Igor, meet Rehu, reincarnated mummy.”

  Rehu’s eyes went wide as the two men stared at each other.

  “Um,” he began.

  Alec waved him off as he started down the street toward the subway station. “It’s a long story, man. I’m sure Igor would be more than happy to tell you all about it, though.”

  Natalie couldn’t see. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. She was aware of everything going on around her, the people jostling her on the train, her stop coming up, and her getting off with the rest of the people. But it was like her eyes were a separate entity. In her mind, she just saw pages and pages of records. Pages and pages of proof that her “father” had created dozens of siblings for her.

  Of proof that three of them were possibly still alive.

  She turned right onto Van Helsing’s street and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as she walked along. Some rational part of her told her to get ready, to wake the hell up, but it was harder than it seemed, harder than anything, when names and dates and faces of other Creatures bounced around in her head like Ping-Pong balls.

  “You’re late,” Kai said as she stepped out of the shadows.

  Natalie jumped as she was dragged by force into reality.

  “Um, sorry. I thought I left on time.”

  Kai wrinkled her brow. “What’s wrong with you? What happened?”

  Natalie flinched. Was she that obvious in her distress? She had become such an expert at covering up everything she thought and felt and believed that it was hard to imagine even Kai could see through her. Kai, who cared for nothing and no one.

  “My father’s assistant arrived today to share records so we can figure out which Creature might have attacked the man in the park,” she murmured. “It brings back memories.”

  Kai stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “I get that. Look, no one should have jumped on you about the Creature. I know you’re the first one to stand up and defend us. You never would have covered up his existence if you knew about him.”

  “Um, thanks,” Natalie said, so stunned that she could hardly find the words. “I appreciate that.”

  “So did this guy, the assistant, did he give you any leads?”

  Natalie nodded. “A couple, actually.”

  “Good, we can talk about it after we deal with Van Helsing.” Kai moved a bit farther up the street and motioned to the grand brownstone. “Are you ready for this?”

  Natalie straightened her shoulders and put on her best tough-girl face. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

&n
bsp; 7

  The last time Natalie had come to this place, it had been very different. The house had been closed up for a long time and it was as dusty and decrepit as its owner. But now, as the same stodgy butler she had met six months ago stepped aside and let them in with a dismissive sniff, she could see it had changed.

  Brightly lit, it had been meticulously cleaned. As they moved down the hallway, she saw into the rooms. The sheets were off the furniture. The house had come alive.

  And that could not mean good things for the monsters of the world.

  “You really should have had an appointment,” the butler droned as they reached the familiar door at the end of the hall. He turned to spear them both with a withering glance. “There are protocols, you know.”

  Kai drew a breath to speak, but Natalie raised a hand to stop her. She was far too irritated not to handle this pissant herself.

  “Look, asshole, none of us are children, so stop thinking you can intimidate us like we are.” She leaned closer. “In fact, you’re the youngest person in the hall at present. So don’t lecture me on the intricacies of war, son. I’ve been there, done that, and I’ll make your ass the T-shirt if you want.”

  He blinked, and she held his stare evenly until he turned away, muttering, “Charming.”

  Kai nudged her with a half-smile. “Bitchcakes. Nice.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched a little with a grin. She was normally very . . . nice. She didn’t make waves, she didn’t cause trouble, it was all part of her fitting-in, don’t-notice-I’m-a-freak thing. But it really was fun to occasionally just let loose and tell someone off.

  Especially when that someone was a Van Helsing lackey who probably got off keeping his pitchfork sharp.

  He stepped into the room and said, “I apologize for the interruption, but you have visitors.”

  There was an indistinct murmuring that was obviously a question, then the butler replied, “Monsters, sir.”

  Natalie shook her head as Kai rolled her eyes.

 

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