Mistress to a Monster

Glory’s lips were pressed together, and she kept on looking back at James, all nervous.

“What is going on?”

“It is nothing to concern yourself with.”

“He killed them, didn’t he?” Milah asked.

Glory whimpered, and Milah gasped.

“Oh, God, that was because of me, wasn’t it? I…”

“No,” James said. “Their own actions caused them to lose their lives. Not you. You had nothing to do with it.”

“But they are dead because of me,” she said.

“No, they are dead because they failed to follow instructions. They believed they were above Damon De Luca, and they decided to do what they wanted. You are a guest.”

“A hated prisoner, more like.”

“Either way, he gave a list of instructions for them to abide by, and they failed. You can call it what you will. This has nothing to do with you.”

Milah shook her head, and tears filled her eyes. Glory tightened her grip on her hand.

“I … I need to walk.”

“Milah, you will not do this alone. Do not feel guilty for their deaths. It is not right.”

She wanted to scream at them. How could they see it like that? If she hadn’t been at this stupid house, it wouldn’t have happened.

“Come on, let us enjoy the snow. The chef was a horrible man, anyway. He always felt that he was to be protected,” Glory said. “It’s why he would hit us if we didn’t do what he wanted. Even if we did, he’d find a reason to harm us, and none of us would tell Damon.”

Milah looked at Glory in shock. “He’d beat you.”

“Yes,” Glory said.

She didn’t know if it was a trick to get her to calm down. People had died because of her. There was no way she was going to be able to forget that. Death wasn’t so easy. She hated it.

They continued walking, but for some time, Milah couldn’t speak. She had tried to hide the bad-tasting food. Of course, it meant she was starving for the most part, but she had tried to play it safe. They’d died anyway.

What had been the point?

“Have you heard any news about … what I asked?” she asked, aware of James close beside her.

“No, Milah. I haven’t. Nothing new has come just yet.”

Milah stopped. The snow outside was not soothing her thoughts. If anything, it was making her more miserable.

“I think it is time—” She stopped as she heard an animal cry. “Do you hear that?”

It came again, and James held his weapon tightly. She hated the sight of guns but had learned as a child to accept them. Her father demanded similar security around his home.

The cry came again.

Milah spun around, detecting the sound and heading toward it. Letting go of Glory’s hand, she followed the sound, and as she drew closer, she saw a puppy. It was so small in the snow.

On instinct, she removed her jacket, but James moved in front of her, and she feared he intended to kill it.

Throwing herself in front of him, she quickly gathered the cold pup in her arms.

“Milah, put it down. It could have diseases.”

“Do not be so fucking cruel,” she said. “I will not let you harm an innocent animal. Not now. Not ever.”

****