Where Monsters Lie (The Monster Within 2)

“Reconsidered your position on the djinn?” he asks pleasantly.

“No,” I snap.

“The International Board of Monster Hunters is vying for me to remove the djinn from the school,” he tells me as though I didn’t answer. “If Saint Marcellus doesn’t own it, then it’s not technically their responsibility to protect. It’s more of a liability now, as it’s a danger to the students.”

That would explain why the guard at the door no longer exists. I’m guessing this is some sort of ploy to get me to agree that it needs more protection than the school is ready to offer if I keep refusing to sign.

I sigh heavily and try to walk in another direction. Skinner follows.

“I have a new contract for you,” he says brightly. “One where you’d still retain ownership.”

“Let me see it,” Erin says.

Surprised, I glance at her. I hadn’t realized that she’s been following. I expected her to try and slip away to be with Luiza, as she usually does these days. We shuffle to the side of the hallway near a high-topped table with some sort of plaque on top. Skinner gently pushes the plaque out of the way and sets his briefcase on the table. He pulls out a stack of papers and hands it to Erin.

Skinner and I wait as Erin glances through the contract. She frowns the entire time, the furrow of her brow increasing the more she flips through the pages.

“Your ownership would just be a formality,” Erin says crisply. “They’d pay you a lump sum, but you’d have no rights to the djinn or the phylactery, nor any say in decisions concerning it.”

She tosses the stack of papers unceremoniously into Skinner’s open briefcase and he cries out as they scatter a little as he rushes to reorganize them. “Basically, your contract is shit,” she tells him. “That’s not nearly enough money, for one. How dare you offer that little for something so valuable? And no rights to the phylactery? Are you out of your mind?” She scoffs derisively. This is a side of Erin I’ve never seen.

I like it.

Skinner grins broadly at her, light shining in his eyes. “Oh,” he says softly. “All right. I see.” He rubs his hands together eagerly. “I’ll be back, then.”

“You better have something worthwhile,” Erin snaps.

Skinner grins, grabs his briefcase, and hurries off while I turn to Erin, mouth agape. “That was amazing,” I tell her.

She shrugs, blushing. “Anyone could see that contract was shit.”

Helsing comes around the corner, grinning. “Not anyone could tell off a hunting lawyer like that,” he says. “They’re particularly aggressive … especially that one.”

We both turn to him and hesitate. I haven’t seen him up close since I grabbed Cleaver from him, and I must not have noticed then—but Helsing looks awful. He looked a little rough before our trip to Germany, but that was nothing in comparison to how worn-down he looks now.

“Dad?” Erin asks. “You okay?”

“Huh?” He scratches at his chin. His cheeks look hollow, and there are deep bags beneath his eyes. He looks ashen, haggard, like he hasn’t slept in days. His scars are lurid against the paleness of his skin. I thought Mason Dagher looked bad at the start of the school year, but he was positively peachy compared to how Helsing looks now.

“Are you sick?” I ask.

“Oh—yeah. Probably just a parasite.” He shrugs. “Nothing that won’t flush itself out eventually.”

Erin and I glance at each other. “Where are you headed, Dad? I’ll walk with you.”

“I’ve gotta go to the library,” I say regretfully. I want to see what’s wrong with Helsing, but I have to get to work.

Erin nods at me and links her arm through her father’s as I head off.

“How’d I beat you here?” Piers asks as I find our usual table.

“Got caught up,” I reply. I set my backpack down at my feet. “Sorry.”

He shrugs as I pull out a chair next to him. “I’m nervous about the winter in Oregon,” he tells me. “Our budget only allows for the most basic cold-weather tent, and when I say it’s going to be cold, I mean cold.”

I nod and I settle down next to him, scooting my chair close to look at the book he has out. It’s an old monster manual open to a page on agropelters.

“Have you found anything about how big their territory usually is?” I ask. “We may have to sacrifice something else in the budget to get a better tent if it’s going to take too long to track it.”