Damaged Gods

Who does he think he is? Who gave him permission to walk away from this prison?

But I already know the answer. The new scent. Female. Young. Uncorrupted by the curse of an unrelenting punishment.

I approach the cottage, acutely aware of the way her scent triggers the monster inside me when I swing the door open and track her through the rooms, up the stairs, to the window. And the missing car.

She watched him leave.

She… is the reason he left.

Because she does not belong here.

He does.

I jump down the stairs, pass through the open door, gallop up the hill and into the atrium. I pause at the bottom of the stairs, sniffing. She is so close, her scent so strong, I almost become intoxicated from it.

And I can hear her. A soft voice.

Then Tomas. Cautioning her. Warning her.

I take the steps seven at a time. There are at least a hundred, so in sixteen strides I am in the grand entrance. And there she is.

Tomas’s arms around her. One hand held firmly over her mouth.

Her eyes track up my body, starting with my hooves and land on my narrowed eyes.

The look she gives me is pure terror. She pulls the hand from her mouth and screams, “What the fuck is that thing!”

Thing.

Thing.

Thing.

It echoes in my head.

She breaks free of Tomas, runs for the door, and even though I know she can’t escape—she is part of the curse now, and there is no way around that—I go after her, prey instinct triggered like a wild beast, jaws grinding, teeth gnashing, fingers reaching, claws… snagging.

I pull her back so hard, she flies up in the air.

“No!” Tomas yells. “He’s gone, Pell! He’s gone! We need her!”

I already know this. I don’t need the rules explained to me. I have lived within the boundaries of my curse for two thousand years.

But it’s too late.

I am nothing but rage and hate.

And I want to take the full wrath of my fury out on this young human woman for daring to walk into my sanctuary. The one place on this godforsaken earth where I am permitted to exist.

For daring to change my world.

For daring to make me change with it.

And now I blame it on her. I put it all on her.

It is now her fault that I’m here. Because she let the only man who could set me free from this wretched curse walk out.

Because now I have to start over from the beginning.

Because there is no way this stupid girl will be able to match the skills of Grant.

Grant. In my mind I sneer his name. “He left!” My words come out as a ferocious growl.

The woman hits the ground less than a moment later. Her head smacks hard on the polished marble floor, the air in her lungs escapes with a grunt, and she slides for a good distance before her body goes still.

“You fucking idiot!” Tomas yells. “You fucking idiot! We need her!”

I turn and pace down the length of the entrance hall, my hooves clomping, my breath heavy with leftover anger. My chest rises and falls at a pace that leaves no room for doubt that I am pissed.

I turn back to Tomas and direct all this rage at him. Point at him. Accuse him. I can’t accuse the woman again, because she is unconscious, so Tomas is my new target. I pin it all on him now. “Where did he go! Why did you let him leave?”

“I have no control over Grant! You know that!” But in this same moment, he bends down to the woman and places a hand on her cheek. Then he gently slaps her, trying to bring her around. “Hello? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

And this is new. And weird. And disconcerting. Because Tomas should not be able to touch this woman. “What the—”

But he cuts me off. “Don’t just stand there, you disgusting monster! Help me get her into the apothecary so I can find something to wake her up!”

I look over my shoulder at the apothecary at the north end of the great hall. The massive wooden door is framed by an intricately carved, Gothic arch with images of… me. Monster me. Raging me. Killing-machine me. And of course, that stupid fucking poem that practically sits above every single door in this place.

“Never mind,” Tomas growls. “I’ll do it myself.”

He grips the woman under her arms and begins dragging her body across the polished marble. I just stand there and watch him, curious. He pauses at the door, balances her with just one arm as he maneuvers the lock, then pulls and props the door open with his hip.

A moment later, the woman’s legs disappear from view as Tomas drags her into the apothecary.

“Huh.” I scratch my chin. Some of the anger dissipates inside me as I consider the strange turn of events with Tomas.