Where Monsters Lie (The Monster Within 2)

“What … what kind of monster would … how …” I honestly don’t know what to ask. I fall silent. “I did not need to know that.”

“Sorry.” Erin shakes her head and sighs. “But after that, Mom left him.”

“Because of the dick thing?” I blurt out.

“Well … that, and everything else,” she says.

I shake my head, trying to make it return to a normal color. How am I supposed to look Helsing in the eye knowing … something like that?

“Uh, but if you guys had such a bad relationship, and you’re scared of monsters … why did you come to school here?”

With this, she finally looks up at me with a glint in her eye. “Because sure, I’m scared of them, but they’re fascinating. And y’know what? Dad got barely any help after he was hurt. Thank God we lived in Sweden, so he didn’t really need much monetary assistance, but can you imagine if we lived in the U.S., where Dad grew up? He’d still be paying the medical bills now.”

She picks up a French fry and waves it around in the air absentmindedly. “I’ve actually really been interested in the legal side of monster hunting for a while now. Hunters are put in so much danger, and sometimes they aren’t fairly compensated for the work they do. There’s little to no insurance, not even life insurance unless the hunters pay for it themselves. And that’s just the human side of things. Not every monster needs to be killed. Some of them need to be protected.”

I’ve stared to lose a little interest. I try to at least look interested while I attempt to eat my dinner. It’s a little hard. I still am getting flashes of dickless Helsing in the back of my mind, and it’s not pleasant.

Erin continues. “Many of them can be dealt with in much more humane ways. I mean, look at Cleaver! He’s technically a monster, according to the legal definition.” She’s talking very fast now. She dunks her French fry in some ketchup and shoves it into her mouth. Still chewing, she continues, “I think that with new contracts and laws in place, we can reduce hunter mortality rates.”

“Wouldn’t that kind of reduce the freedoms we have as monster hunters?” I ask hesitantly, pausing in my own attack aimed at the potatoes on my plate.

Erin shrugs. “Maybe a little. But overall it would be beneficial. There would be more security, more of a safety net if something goes wrong.”

I don’t reply. There’s no denying that she has a point, but I like the freedom that comes with being a monster hunter, and I know that freedom comes with risks. I’m not going to stand in her way unless I have to. Besides, getting paid more doesn’t sound too bad—and she did help me with Skinner.

Plus, talking about this has put her in a much better mood. I make a mental note. Talk about boring legal stuff with Erin if she’s feeling down. I spot Luiza hurrying into the dining hall, looking around for us, and I take the opportunity to push my tray away.

“Welp, back to the library for me,” I say, getting up.

“You’ve barely eaten!” Erin says in surprise.

“I’m not too hungry.” I’m telling the truth. Hearing about Helsing’s mutilation has made me lose my appetite. “You can give it to Luiza.”

Chapter Twelve

The newly imposed curfew doesn’t stop me from sneaking away from the school on weekends. Cleaver and I go out into the woods surrounding the school and hunt monsters.

Real monsters. Small and not very dangerous, but it’s more real than the tracking I was doing over the summer.

I take weapons as a precaution, but I don’t kill anything unless I have to. I find tracks, let Cleaver sniff them, and then take him off his leash so we can race to track whatever we’ve happened upon. It’s good practice for when I go to Oregon with Piers. I want to find the agropelter before he does, after all, and Cleaver is much faster than Piers could ever hope to be.

If I can beat Cleaver in a race to a monster, Piers will be no problem.

It’s hard to beat Cleaver, however, and often I end up tired and empty-handed as I slink back to my dorm. At least Cleaver’s having fun.

That afternoon with Piers in the library is not the first time Sawyer finds me in an accidentally compromising position. By the third time it happens, I notice he’s not even surprised. I don’t bother to explain myself. It’s his fault if he thinks I’m actually that much of a skank, but not all the boys think that’s the case.

Bennett doesn’t much like playing a part in the charade, and starts avoiding me once he unwittingly plays a part—even though I try to explain to him that we did nothing wrong. I was just tying my shoe after creature studies when Sawyer walked by the classroom and glanced in at just the right—or wrong—time, and just the right angle.

Owen is barely around to play the part, but still somehow he gets involved. He’s rarely around nowadays, so when I do find him in the dining hall one night at dinner, I head straight for him to give him a hug. I’m not even thinking about Sawyer when I do it, I just genuinely miss him.

Last year we used to hang

out almost every Saturday, and he would wear flower-printed shirts and make jokes while we walked around the school grounds. We never got quite past the sparks of a new friendship-maybe-more, but maybe that’s why I can’t just forget him. It feels good to sit down beside him and wrap him in my arms.

“Owen,” I whisper as I start to pull him close.

At first, he rests his head on my shoulder, closing his eyes. His face still bears the scars of this lycanthrope attack, and probably always will. It’s been months, but they still seem fresh. He’s wearing a rumpled sweatshirt and jeans—an outfit he wouldn’t be caught dead in before. The one thing that still remains the same is the mane of curly blonde hair atop his head. I run my fingers through it briefly, but he snatches himself away.