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Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

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But we find a few of them downstairs when we exit the cathedral. They are getting ready for the night to end, I suppose. I don’t know where they all sleep, but a good number of them sleep on the tomb roofs.

They call out to us as we pass and I actually recognize a few words. Good night, they are saying.

I want to learn their language, so I imitate the word and say it back to them.

This makes them roar with laughter.

Maybe I said it wrong. Hell, who knows what I said. But there’s no time to think about it, because we come to the top of the hill and literally almost knock Tomas over.

“Oh, sorry!” He sidesteps us. “I didn’t see you.”

“Did you have a nice date?” I ask.

“I did,” Tomas says. “It was actually very lovely. My first time ever. We had dinner, and went for a walk.” He hesitates.

“And?” I ask.

“She introduced me to her uncle.”

“Meeting the fam on the first date,” Pie jokes. “That’s a big deal.”

“He was a very enlightening man.”

Tomas is acting weird. So I narrow my eyes at him. “What else did you do?”

He holds up a finger. And this is when I notice he’s carrying something in his other hand. “I kissed her.”

“You did!” Pie exclaims.

“I did. And she kissed me back. It was nice.” He sighs. I roll my eyes, but there is a little part of me that is jealous of Tomas right now. Not because of his kiss—but his date. He went out somewhere with a female he likes.

I would like to take Pie out, but I can’t because she’s still a wood nymph chimera when she leaves Saint Mark’s. The only way to go somewhere on a date without the fear of her being discovered would be to wander the hallways upstairs. And that’s just not the same. The hallways are for people who are stuck. They are good for finding pants and wasting time. Or reliving memories.

They are not for making new ones.

So yeah. I’m jealous of his date. Because Pie deserves a night out like that. Dinner in a restaurant. Walks in the town. Or even a trip into a real city—like Pittsburgh—to see a play, or an orchestra, or a ballet.

And I will never be able to give her that.

“What’s that?” Pie jostles me out of my thoughts with her question, pointing to a large black box that Tomas is carrying by a handle.

“This?” He squirms a little. I know that look. It means he’s done something he doesn’t want me to know about.

“Tomas,” I say sternly. “What did you do?”

“Well.” He pauses, looks at Pie. “I don’t want you to be angry, but—” He pauses again.

“But. What?” I snarl.

“I bought something in town.” He holds up the big black box. “A solar generator.”

“What the hell is that?” I say.

But at the same time, Pie says, “Holy fucking shit.”

“What?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Tomas.” Pie ignores me. “Does that do what I think it does?”



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