Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

“Madeline?” I say, my voice soft.

She has fallen backwards on top of Big Jim. And they have both been shot. Crimson blood pours out of her. He’s clearly already dead. One bullet got him in the head. Russ’s bullet, I think. He was the only one who could’ve done it. He was the only one facing the mob.

And Madeline. Still alive, but dying right in front of my eyes. Blood slowly seeping out from the tape over her mouth and dripping over the shoulder of her brown canvas jacket.

I whirl around, searching for the eros who shot my soulmate.

“You!” I growl at Russ Roth.

And the moment this word comes out of my mouth, I feel the rage inside me.

I feel the blood boiling in my veins.

The burning of it as it pumps through my heart.

And then the change comes quick.

Scales, and wings, and teeth. Oh, the teeth!

I black out from the fury and the anger and the next thing I know, I am high above the town and my wrath is on full display down below.

The town is on fire.

Bodies in the parking lot.

Batty and his winged friends, hovering next to me.

My dear Madeline, limp in my not-so-dragon-chimera-anymore arms, dead.

CHAPTER FORTY – PIE

We enter a pastry kitchen, empty, except for Talina and Mikayla. Both are wearing only their fur. Talina’s brown and white dairy-cow pattern makes her look approachable and fun. But Mikayla. She’s… well, I would not call her plump, but I would call her both voluptuous and buxom. Not to mention exotic. Her fur is sun-streaked, almost golden. She looks like she belongs on a beach in Fiji. No. Not a beach. Maybe… a desert. Standing on top of a pyramid.

Mikayla looks like a freaking goddess when she’s naked. That’s the only word to describe her.

She came across a little shy back in the coffeeshop that first day. But nothing about her naked body has anything to do with shy. Mikayla, I realize, is the cupcake version of Marilyn Monroe in Vinca. And she has very nice tits. Which I have a great view of, because her hair is piled up on top of her head, in between her stubby horns, and not trailing down her front to cover her nipples like Talina’s white mane.

A jolt of jealousy surprises me for a moment, and I chance a glance over at Pell to see if he’s admiring their wood-nymph chimera bodies, but he and Tarq are huddled close, talking about their plan.

We are stealing wood nymphs.

“Pieanna!” Talina whisper-exclaims, then comes towards me, hands out. When we are about a foot apart, she takes my hands in her and smiles. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you everything.”

“Eww. Just please. Call me Pie.”

“But you are her. You are a royal beast, Pie. Even if you weren’t naked, showing off your flawless fur, I can see it in your bone structure. In your eyes. In your horns. And even your hooves. It’s all… genetically perfect.”

“The queen is too,” Mikayla says. “But not the same way you are. She’s horrible. Just... horrible.”

“Hmm.” Tarq says that this queen is my sister. And now I’m curious. “Does she look like me? Does she have fur, and horns, and hooves like mine?”

“No,” Mikayla laughs. “She has fur and horns. But she doesn’t have hooves. She has paws.”

“Paws?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Then how are we related?”

“Pie!” I look over at Pell. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

I take a breath, still slightly disturbed that my sister has paws, then bob my head a little as I silently go over my spelling. “I think so. I don’t know if it’s great, but it should be good enough.”