The Monster MASH

by Angie Fox

  “Petra,” a voice called from the main path. I turned to see three supply officers clapping.

  They knew we’d been to the minefield. And of course they assumed the worst.

  “Oh, grow up,” I said, both relieved and disappointed as the moment was broken. I navigated the slope of the cemetery and jumped down the small rise onto the path.

  Galen took it in stride. “Officers.” He nodded as we passed.

  I watched the trio ogling us after they should have been long gone. There. That proved my point. “You can’t expect me to take you back to my hutch now.”

  Galen walked easily next to me. “Pretend what they suspect were true—that I was going back to ‘do’ you, as you mortals put it—where is the shame? You are an incredibly sensual woman.”

  He said it as if it were a simple fact. The sun rose in the morning, the gods fought, and I was a sensual woman worthy of a demigod. I hadn’t even gotten a date to senior prom. Not that I’d wanted to go. I was too busy studying to get early acceptance into the med school program at Loyola. But still.

  He almost made me want to be that girl that a demigod could crush on.

  Incredible.

  He was going to save the world and get the girl, or at least try to make out with me in my hutch.

  “I hesitate to ask,” he said as if he could see the wheels turning, “but what are you thinking?”

  I shook my head. “That out of all the men in this camp, I had to go for a hot warrior with a Superman complex.”

  He laughed.

  “Admit it,” I said, knowing I’d hit close to the truth. “You want to save the world and everyone in it.”

  He shrugged, denying nothing. “What’s wrong with that?”

  It was impossible. He should know that by now.

  He needed to get it through his head. “I don’t need saving. Not anymore.” This wasn’t like the minefield, where I was caught alone and completely off guard. “I live with a vampire and a werewolf.”

  “Good,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

  This I had to see. “Really?”

  He seemed slightly offended. “Yes. Really. I’d be glad to have help, provided your friends can actually protect you from old god assassins.”

  I wasn’t so sure I believed that. Galen didn’t seem like the type to let go easily.

  “This is going to be fun,” I said as we headed for the tar swamp. Arguing with the man was like fighting a series of small battles—ones I kept losing. I glanced up at him. “And you’d better mean it when you said you’d let them protect me, too. I don’t want you giving my roommates some kind of test they can’t pass.”

  He seemed mildly surprised at that. “Just the opposite. I’m on your side.”

  Not if he knew what I was hiding.

  I could smell the faint trace of garlic wafting from the mess tent as we trudged together in silence. Tonight must have been spaghetti night.

  “I want you to have your freedom,” Galen said.

  He was talking about more than a walk home.

  I stared straight ahead, hands shoved into the pockets of my scrubs. The fingers of my right hand curled around the knife. I could feel him watching me.

  We walked through the maze of low-slung hutches.

  I was used to being alone. I had it figured out. Anything else? Well, I didn’t know what to think.

  The closest friend I had was Rodger. He cared. But he’d also drop me like a hot rock if he could. I didn’t blame him. Rodger had a family he loved—a wife and kids, relatives, a pack. I’d feel the same if I were him.

  Sexy club music thumped from my hutch, and the lights were on. At least Marius was around. Galen would soon see the vampire I had at my disposal. I only hoped Marius wasn’t wearing his black silk robe with the butterflies.

  I barged in the door. “Lucy, I’m home!”

  “Yeek!” Marius yanked the bedcovers around him as the vampire underneath him disappeared in a puff of silver smoke.

  Too late, I noticed the candles and the half-drunk champagne glasses of blood.

  The corner of my mouth tipped up. “Marius, you old devil.” I was glad to see he had some company.

  The vampire hissed, fangs out. “Do you mind?”

  “We used to hang a sock on the door,” Galen said.

  “No kidding,” I said. “Wait, you have women on the Limbo front?” Not that I didn’t want him to date. But really, I didn’t like the idea of him hanging out with other women.

  “This was in basic,” Galen said, planting a hand on the doorjamb.

  Okay. Well, that was a long time ago. “Ancient Greeks,” I said, shrugging it off. I’d heard they liked to party.

  “Nah.” He played with the rough wood. “Siege of Rhodes.”

  “You don’t say.” That’s right. He was only about five hundred years old.

  “Do you even care that I’m here?” Marius was about ready to start spitting bullets. He had the covers yanked up to his neck and was shimmying into a pair of boxer shorts. “Did you bother to think before you stumbled in here like a couple of drunken sailors?”

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry. We had no idea.”

  “No sock on the door,” Galen added.

  Exactly. “Besides, I need you to protect me.”

  The vampire flipped a lock of blond hair out of his face and gave me a look like I had to be kidding.

  In all fairness, it probably wasn’t the best way to ask for a favor. Marius’s eyes grew wide as we explained about the giant scorpions. I wondered just how much fighting versus nightclubbing he’d done in his former life.

  Then again, I didn’t want to get into that in front of Galen.

  “Now that you can see I’m quite safe here,” I said to my studly protector-wannabe, “let’s get you dressed.”

  Galen had done enough parading around camp in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms—and make no mistake, Galen was going back.

  Marius stood in a pair of black silk boxers, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t look at me.”

  He was too lanky anyway.

  Rodger wouldn’t mind lending a few things. I cracked open his footlocker. At least a dozen little dinosaurs scattered, their black scales gleaming in the lantern light. “Dang it, Rodger.”

  “What?” Marius asked, a little too curious.

  “Nothing.” Rodger had told me he only had six. Those things had better not be breeding in there. I slammed the footlocker closed and went for Rodger’s beat-up brown side table.

  I yanked out a drawer and grabbed a white T-shirt from the top of the heap. Rodger needed to learn how to fold. “Here,” I said, handing the shirt to Galen.

  And yes, I watched his muscular forearms and chest as he dragged it over his head.

  I’m not made of steel.

  Only when Galen pulled it down did I see that the shirt read World’s Greatest Lover.

  “A little premature, don’t you think?” he asked, grinning.

  “Oh please,” I said, returning to the drawer. “Take this, too.” I shoved an orange-and-brown shawl at him.

  “I like it.” He winked. “Only because I know you’ll enjoy watching me put it on.”

  The man was insufferable.

  Thank heaven the shawl was as big as a tent, obviously knitted by Rodger’s wife.

  The furry monstrosity covered him like a tarp. Now Galen looked half yeti. Perfect.

  Meanwhile, Marius was walking around the room, blowing out candles and draining the remaining blood from the glasses. He used one hand to lift the cast-iron stove in the middle of our hut and glared at me as he snatched up a handful of condoms from underneath.

  I hadn’t realized Marius was such an optimist.

  Or a poor planner. Those condoms would have been hard to reach from the bed.

  Galen, as usual, missed nothing. “He is strong.”

  “He is something,” I agreed.

  “Vain as well,” Galen said, inspect
ing the mirrors over Marius’s bed.

  “Hey, I hadn’t noticed those,” I said. Marius must have dug them out special tonight. I couldn’t help but whistle.

  “You are so immature,” the vampire glowered.

  I cocked my head. “Have you met the rest of the people in this camp?”

  Galen grudgingly inspected the boards of the hutch. “He can’t protect you as well as I can,” he said, “but you’re in a highly populated camp. I suppose you’ll be safe enough.”

  I drew my hand to my chest. “Oh my goodness. A man with an open mind.”

  His eyes caught mine. “Give me a chance. I’m full of surprises.” He paused at the door. “I have one last favor to ask.”

  “I knew it.”

  He gave me a long look. “Come say goodbye before you try to ship me out again.”

  I’d say one thing for Galen; he was good at getting his point across. “I’ll come see you.”

  He nodded. There was nothing more to say. I was on the home stretch. Sure, I still had some kind of enchanted knife in my pocket, but I was safe in camp. At least for now. And once Galen was gone, I could deal with that.

  Soon enough, everything would be back to normal.

  Lucky me.

  As Galen ducked to go, I found myself wanting to call him back. I didn’t know why or even what I’d tell him. It was better this way. No attachments. No complications. I watched him head out the door.

  And run straight into Rodger.

  “Ow!” My roommate bounced backward a foot. “Hey, that’s my sweater.”

  “I lent it to him,” I called, hoping Rodger was sober enough to get his butt inside and let Galen keep walking.

  “Okeydoke,” Rodger said, swaying into the doorjamb. His hair was messier than usual, and his gold-rimmed eyes were bloodshot. “Ooh. It looks like a vampire love nest in here.”

  “It was,” Marius seethed.

  “Who was he with?” Rodger asked me.

  I shrugged, looking to Marius. “I didn’t see. Lovergirl was too fast.”

  “Girl?” Rodger asked.

  I stepped back to let the werewolf stumble past. “Come to think of it, I don’t know anything about your love life,” I said to the vampire.

  “Because it’s none of your business,” Marius groaned.

  He had me there.

  Rodger chuckled as he toppled face-first onto his cot. Phew. He smelled like cigar smoke and rum.

  Galen had stopped to watch the freak show. I didn’t blame him.

  “What were you two doing?” Rodger asked, rolling over. “Oh wait. I heard about it at the bar.”

  “Already?” I asked.

  “You went and saw Father McArio.” He barked out a laugh.

  Yeah, real funny. This was going to be a long night.

  Rodger reached for his covers and ended up covering himself with the tent flap from the window. “Did he take the knife?”

  Oh no.

  Galen stopped, and my heart skipped a beat. If he found out about the bronze dagger, he’d never leave this alone.

  “You’re drunk, Rodger.” I wanted to slam the door, but Galen was already back inside.

  “What knife?” he demanded.

  “Rodger—” I warned.

  “The bronze dagger,” Rodger answered like a man who wanted to dig my grave. He waved a hand as if that could dispel the tension thickening the air. “You probably don’t want to see it. It’s the same one she pulled out of you.”

  “Rodger!”

  “What?” He sat up on his elbows while I looked on in horror. “He knows he was stabbed. Ohh…Skittles.” He reached for a few petrified candies on his nightstand. “She tried to get rid of the knife, but it showed up in her locker.”

  “Rodger!”

  Galen’s expression went hard. “That’s why you asked where I was when I was stabbed,” he said, cutting each word. “You wanted to know the origin of the knife.”

  Rodger flopped his head back on his pillow. “Gah. Stop talking so loud. I think my hangover is starting already. That’s the last time I mix Hell’s Rain with Malibu.”

  Galen stood in the doorway, looking like he’d been smacked. “It’s the prophecy,” he said, almost to himself. Anger quickly replaced his surprise. “You lied to me.”

  “Not really,” I snapped. Deny it all. “The knife isn’t important.”

  “Oh, I think it is,” Rodger said to the ceiling.

  Perhaps I could smother him with a pillow.

  “Let me explain,” I said quickly. “The dagger that I took out of you, I showed it to the chaplain tonight, just to see if it was special.”

  “And?” Galen snarled.

  “It’s not. There’s nothing special about it. Father McArio didn’t even keep it.”

  Technically, that was true.

  Rodger propped up on his elbows. “He didn’t? After it kept following you?”

  “Rodger!”

  “You didn’t tell him that part?” my roommate asked. “I threw it in the swamp and—bam.” Rodger’s elbows didn’t quite hold up, and he ended up on his back again. “It showed up again in her pocket.”

  Galen looked ready to tear down the hutch with his teeth.

  “Of course I told Father that part, but I wasn’t going to tell him that part,” I hissed, flinging a hand at Galen. Rodger had never been able to keep his mouth shut, but you’d think for once that he could give me a break on this.

  “Okay. Fine,” he said, both drunk and offended. “I won’t say anything else.”

  “There’s nothing else to say,” I fumed.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  Galen towered over me. “Oh, there’s plenty to say.”

  Cripes. “We’re going to have to do this, aren’t we?”

  “Immediately,” Galen answered. “No tricks. No back talk. You tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Fine,” I said, eyeing Rodger, who was again trying to use the tent flap as a blanket, and Marius, who sat cross-legged and bristling on his cot. “Let’s go somewhere private.”

  “There is no such place,” Marius grumbled as Galen led me back out into the night.

  Chapter Nine

  We banged out of my hutch and stepped straight into an icebox. I wrapped my coat tight around me. “Come on. I need coffee and I need it now.”

  “You’re going to need more than that,” Galen said, heading for the officers’ club.

  I grabbed him by the fuzzy poncho. “Not there.” I wasn’t up for the stench of cigar smoke and half-drunk soldiers. Or the prospect of being overheard.

  “Where else do you suggest?” he asked as if I was going to screw him over.

  Okay, so I hadn’t rolled out the welcome wagon and whispered all of my secrets into his ear. Could he blame me? “Come on. We’re going to break into the chow hall.”

  Galen tilted his head. “I can do that.”

  Of course he could. Breaking and entering seemed to be one of his specialties.

  At least that lowered our chances of getting caught.

  He fell into pace next to me. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining myself to the oversized lout, but maybe—just maybe—I could minimize the damage and convince him to take it down a notch.

  Ha.

  As long as I was wishing for that, I might as well wish for a pony.

  Torches cast shadows over the rocky path in front of us as we made our way past the enlisted hutches.

  I was almost rooting for a giant scorpion or three—anything to distract him.

  No such luck.

  I knew what he suspected.

  A healer whose hands can touch the dead was supposed to be the key to ending this war.

  Well, it wasn’t me.

  I’d hoped for it to be me, prayed for it with everything I had. I’d read the whole prophecy and tried to make it come true. I’d been willing to risk exposure and certain death if doing so meant I really could put a stop to this war.

  But despite what I’d hoped�
��and what I put on the line—my grand foray into peacekeeping hadn’t worked. It only backfired, bringing disaster down on me and the people I loved.

  It wasn’t going to happen again.

  The mess tent slung low on the far south side of camp. It was usually a rollicking place. At this hour, it sat empty and dark.

  And it still smelled like garlic.

  The door was locked, but the screened window next to it was broken. I should know. I’d sliced the edge last week in order to slip Rodger a caramel-dipped onion.

  I’d gotten him, too. The corners of my mouth tugged up at the memory. It wasn’t a big enough prank to use on Kosta, but I’d sure enjoyed it.

  My fingers trailed down the edge of the screen. Someone else had widened my original cut. Dang, I’d better keep an eye on my own food.

  I tore the screen open the rest of the way and ducked through. It was pitch black inside.

  “Watch it. There’s a table right here,” I said as Galen followed me.

  The kitchen was in the rear of the tent. The sand floor crunched under my feet as I slipped past the tables in the dark. The less we were noticed in here, the better.

  I walked straight back until I bumped up against the serving area. Ah, good. I followed it with my hand until it skirted back toward meal prep.

  When I reached the door to the kitchen, I stopped. “Galen?” I peered into the dark.

  “Yes.”

  I jumped a foot as his voice sounded directly behind me. “Can you at least try to make a little noise?”

  “I am what I am.”

  “No kidding.” I pushed through the door and felt for one of the lanterns above the kitchen serving area. “Bingo.” I lit it, revealing a hodgepodge of equipment that had been scrubbed to within an inch of its life.

  Well-used pots and pans hung from racks above the long metal countertop. Behind it was the prep area, refrigerators and freezers. I spotted a coffeemaker by the sink. Wouldn’t you know it? It was already filled and ready to go for the morning shift. I hit the start button and sighed.

  “It’s the simple things,” Galen said.

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  The glow of the single lantern cast shadows over his face. “You can trust me,” he said.