Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

“Come with me.” Tarq grabs my arm, even harder than Luciano did, and drags me down the still-morphing hallway. But just a few steps into this abduction I find myself in Tarq’s office.

There is a nymph woman on the other side of his glass walls, also naked, who stops whatever she is doing with a stack of papers to gape at me, but then jumps when Tarq growls, “Get out!”

She practically runs away.

Something I would also like to do.

Tarq lets go of my arm and walks to the other end of his office. He pauses and my heart begins thumping wildly inside my chest.

Fear, I think.

This feels like fear.

He takes an exaggerated breath, then turns back to me and lets it out. “Explain.”

“Explain what? I don’t know what I did!”

He walks over to me so fast I don’t even have a chance to run. I just cower as his claws reach for my jacket. The next thing I know, I’m missing a sleeve.

He holds that sleeve up and bellows, “What is this?”

I am so stunned by this turn of events I can’t even manage words. I can’t even think.

“Where did you get this jacket, Pie?”

“F-f-from Eyebrow Monster!”

“What the hell is an eyebrow monster?”

“He’s my t-tailor!”

I watch, almost ready to piss myself, as Tarq breathes loud and heavy. Is that steam coming out of his nostrils?

“I need to go.”

But I don’t even make half a turn before he grabs me again. “You’re not going anywhere. I need answers, Pie.”

I whirl on him because now I’m mad. Mad Pie is good, because she’s stupidly fearless. “I don’t even understand the questions! But I’m not staying here so you can manhandle me and scare me into submission! I don’t like it!”

He and I stare at each other for a moment, our eyes locked. Then he lets go of my arm and walks over to his desk, putting space between us. He takes a seat and points to a chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please have a seat so we can figure this out.”

But I don’t feel like sitting. And my heart is still galloping inside my chest. My hands are trembling and my legs feel weirdly weak. So I shake my head no. “I’ll stand, thank you.”

He leans back in his chair, trying to appear relaxed. But the way he steeples his fingers under his chin is still very unsettling. “I said I was sorry. You might as well sit.”

I want to be brave here. I want to be Mad Pie. But honestly, I think my legs might give out if I don’t sit, so I pretend to be annoyed by his offer, yet accept it anyway. It takes a lot of energy to walk over to that chair and I don’t exactly sit. It’s more like a collapse. The adrenaline is still coursing through my body and even though the moment of fear is over, I’m still shaken up over the sudden violence in his voice.

He tricked me, I realize. This whole week he’s been pretending. Wearing clothes and being all considerate and shit. But this is the monster I met that first time through. The naked, powerful, urban minotaur.

“What?” he snaps. And he’s still annoyed.

Which just makes me angry. “You,” I say, sneering the word. “Pretending this whole time.”

“Pretending this whole time what?”

“To be… some… reasonable… whatever you are.”

He lets out another long breath. “I said I was sorry.”