Where Monsters Lie (The Monster Within 2)

Shocked, I watch as Bennett launches himself at the local villager, grabbing him around the middle and tackling him to the ground. Piers drops his pool stick and leaps on top of him as well. Another patron hurries over, shouting in broken English.

“What’s happening?” I ask Owen.

“He called you a slut!” Owen shouts over the din.

“She is a slut!” the man cries, wrestling Bennett off of him. “She is with three men!”

“Oh, he speaks English.” My blood turns to ice in my veins. I flip my pool stick in my hands, not willing to toss away a potential weapon like Piers did.

The bartender rushes over as Bennett grabs the man again. “We’re in a strange line of work,” Bennett says, calmly putting the man into a headlock as he beats against Bennett’s chest and back in a futile effort to get free. “Life is short. There’s no room for jealousy.”

Owen goes to meet Florin the bartender, speaking in rapid Romanian, while Bennett holds onto his victim. The other local man who seemed keen to join the fight backs off, eyeing Bennett’s muscles. Most of the patrons have stopped to look on.

Florin walks over to Bennett and grabs the villager he’s holding by the collar until Bennett obligingly lets him go. Owen sidles up next to me as Florin walks the man to the door and tosses him out into the snow.

“What did Florin say?” I ask.

“Apparently that guy’s a nuisance, but we better not start any more fights.” Owen shrugs. “I think Florin likes me. Mul?umesc,” he adds to Florin as the bartender passes, earning a stoic nod in response.

“The nerve of that guy,” Piers growls.

“Asshole,” Bennett mutters darkly. They circle around me almost protectively, and I smile up at them, feeling warm inside. They were willing to fight for my honor just now.

“Another game?” Piers asks.

I don’t know how long we stay up drinking. I’m pleasantly drunk by the time the four of us slosh up the narrow stairs at the back of the tavern and head down the corridor to find our room.

Owen was right about sharing a bed. A wide bed takes up the center of the room, its wooden headboard a little dusty. Everything is brightly colored; the bedspread is royal blue with bright yellow designs, the rug on the floor has large multicolored stripes, and there’s a flower-patterned tablecloth covering a small table. We all fall into the bed, laughing and exhausted.

“There’s plenty of room,” Bennett says as I push up next to him, but he doesn’t try to get away. He wraps an arm around my waist and I grin lazily up at him.

I feel Piers’ hands rubbing up and down my back. “Last time we were all here,” he says, his words somewhat slurred, “things got a little … crazy.”

I close my eyes as his hands slip lower and lower. “I remember,” I say playfully.

Owen is sitting on the foot of the bed. I feel him reach up and gently touch my knee, sliding up to touch my thigh. “It’d … be a shame to not finish what we started, wouldn’t it?” he asks.

My eyes shoot open and I look at him. If anyone but Owen had suggested it … he’s gotten so much better, so much stronger, if he wants this enough to suggest it …

And then I remember the look on Sawyer’s face the last time we spoke, and I can’t bring myself to do it. Not, at least, until I set things right there.

But that doesn’t mean we don’t still get up to no good.

Some time later—quite a bit, given the fact that all three of them act like sex-starved creatures—I lay flat on the bed, gasping. We might not have had sex, but it’s only in the strictest sense of the word. Owen grabs me a towel from the bathroom and gently cleans me up; I’m trembling, and every touch sends tingles up my spine. Finally, we all lay on the bed, curled together. I’m between Owen and Bennett, and both of them have their arms around my waist.

Piers is still sweating from his own exertions, so he lays a little away from us, trying to catch his breath.

I’m warm and comfortable. I have my boys. My eyes drift shut, and sleep draws me in.

Chapter Twenty

Someone’s screaming.

I sit bolt upright, gasping and looking around wildly. I’m completely naked and covered in sweat. Was the screaming just in my nightmares?

But around me, the boys are awake, too—and Owen is staring at me, open-mouthed. He’s the one shouting.

“Avery!” he cries, his eyes growing ever wider as I blink back up at him.