Bite the Big Heartache (Monstrana Paranormal Romance 2)

“She doesn’t love me,” Billy shouted. He kicked the leg of the coffee table and instantly regretted it when his toe began to throb. Hopping on one leg and cursing, he glared at the old woman. “And I’m leaving this place for good. Make all the boxes in the entire country disappear if you want. Turn me into a frog or a spider or a speck of dust. I’m still leaving. Once that interview gets out, no one will want me around anyway. She got what she wanted.”

Madge raised a single patchy eyebrow and cackled as if he’d told the world’s funniest joke. “Is that so?”

She blinked her eyes and the TV clicked on. Immediately, Billy’s own voice came through the speakers. He rounded the couch and stared at the screen. It was a video of him sitting in front of Stasia, looking nervous with his tucked-in green shirt and sweaty forehead. She certainly hadn’t waited long to broadcast that interview. It shouldn’t have surprised him, of course. This was the kind of thing that made careers.

“I don’t want to see this,” he said with a groan, placing a hand on his queasy stomach. “Turn it off.”

“No, something from the spirit realms tells me this is going to get real interesting,” Madge said. She snapped her fingers and a bowl of popcorn appeared on the top of her bulging belly. “Hungry?”

He made a face and turned away. From what he could hear, they were nearing the end of the first interview. His confession would be coming up any second now. He needed to get out of there. Forget packing. He didn’t need that shoddy old box TV or the wobbly table or the ratty couch with the loose springs. He was getting out of this town as soon as he could.

He didn’t get far. When Stasia’s voice began to come through the speakers, his legs froze in place. Even now, after everything that had happened between them, the sound of her voice still made his heart go crazy. It was a soothing balm. A bittersweet medley he could listen to forever and never tire of.

“Hi, Billy, this is Stasia. I hope you’re watching. I really need you to watch this.”

He turned around and his eyes grew wide. He’d expected to hear his confession next. A public baring of his soul. Instead, he saw Stasia looking especially beautiful in a sparkling red top, her hair pulled into a low bun, her slender neck exposed. Her honey brown eyes darted from the camera to something behind it. She smiled nervously and chewed on her bottom lip.

The word LIVE flashed in the bottom right part of the screen and Billy realized with a jolt that Stasia was talking through the TV to him at that very moment. His body moved unbidden toward the couch and he sunk into a seat next to Madge as the old witch cackled and shoved a fistful of popcorn in her mouth.

“What is she doing?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“I think this is what they call the climax of a story,” she answered, her mouth full. “Now, hush, boy. I want to see how it ends.”

Chapter Seventeen

Mr. Treckle prowled behind the cameras with an eerie grin that stretched from ear to ear and revealed his yellowing crooked teeth. He rubbed his hands together gleefully and glanced at the monitors. Stasia knew the only reason he was helping her was because this was his moment to stick it to Myra. When she’d told him about the vampiress’ plans to take over the company, the troll had nearly lost it. She’d had to shout her plan over his cursing and swearing before he would quiet down and give her a moment.

Now, all that was left was to film the live segment of their show and hope against hope that Billy was out there, somewhere, watchin

g. He needed to see this. Even if they never regained their friendship and she would never feel his strong arms around her again, at least he would have this. That was, if everything went to plan. Glancing at the crooked witch with the vapid smile sitting across from her, Stasia was beginning to have her doubts.

“Hello, Monstrana. This is Anastasia Pavlosky reporting from Lochness Broadcasting Studios.” She peered intently into the cameras, willing her beating heart to slow. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on camera. But for some reason, this felt like the first time. “You’ve just heard the heart-wrenching tale from Mr. Finley himself of the deadly ambush in the wilds of Alaska. I’m joined by my special guest, Ms. Althea Bran. She’s a renowned witch who specializes in communication with the dead. Isn’t that so, Ms. Bran?”

The witch cackled and snorted. She sat slumped in the chair across from Stasia, her hand rubbing her belly. She had thick, raven hair with streaks of silver running through it. She’d lined her eyes with charcoal and coated her last few eyelashes with a layer of black mascara. On each pale cheek was a solid circle of red rouge. Wrinkles surrounded her mouth and age spots dotted her hands.

“Please, call me Thea,” she said in a hoarse voice. “And that’s correct. I speak to the dead, when they feel like cooperating.”

“Do you have a personal connection to Mr. Finley?” Stasia asked, leaning back in her chair. Her hands shook in her lap.

“Never met the boy, but he’s the neighbor to my dear sister, Madge. She called in a favor and asked me to do this interview. I deal with issues of the dead. She deals with issues of the heart.” She smiled and waved at the camera. “Hi, Madge!”

Stasia nodded. If it hadn’t been for the kindly old witch who lived next door to Billy, she might never have found the right person for the job. But communing with the spirits wasn’t like flipping on the TV. There was a lot of static and interference. She crossed her fingers and prayed that this would work.

“It was my understanding from my hours spent with Mr. Finley that the werewolf who Monstrana considers a hero has been harboring a dark secret,” Stasia explained, half to Thea and half to the audience behind the camera.

Her palms grew moist as she paused. This was Billy’s secret and she wasn’t sure she should be sharing it. But it was far too late for second thoughts. The cameras were rolling and a country of viewers sat at home, wondering what she’d say next.

“That he blames himself for his fiancée’s death,” she continued in a shaky voice. “He believes he should’ve done more. Thea, this is where you come in. Can you connect us with Esther’s spirit tonight?”

“I can certainly try, young lady.” Thea grinned and pulled a shallow silver tray of water toward herself on the table next to her chair. “The stars have aligned.”

As the witch began muttering over the reflective layer of water, Mr. Treckle made wild motions behind the camera. Blood flooded Stasia’s cheeks and she cleared her throat before looking into the lens again.

“Thanks to the efforts of my manager, Travis Treckle, and the studio, this is the first time something like this has ever been attempted on live TV. You’re seeing it here, first, folks.”

She tore her eyes away from the smirking troll. He’d only agreed to sneak her into the studios and run her interview if he got all the credit. It was a small price to pay in the long run.

“Do you see anything, Thea?” she asked, leaning closer.