Chapter Nineteen
Kassie
Iheaded straight for Lucien's shop. If anyone knew where to find Atlas, it would be him. Even though Atlas claimed to spend most of his time in that creepy forest no one talked about, he practically lived at Lucien's place when he wasn't with me.
I shoved the door open, wincing as the bell jangled above me. My skin burned like I'd caught fire, heat rushing through my cheeks and chest. Sweat beaded across my hairline and slicked my palms. Whatever this was, it intensified with each heartbeat. I should not feel like this.
I'd read enough monster romances to know the tropes.
In those books, a creature's essence could bewitch you, leave you feverish with need, desperate to be near the one who marked you.
My rational mind rejected the idea, but my body.
.. my body seemed to be following the script of those dog-eared paperbacks to the letter. Was I actually experiencing this?
It was kinda hot.
But also annoying.
Maybe all those romance writers weren't just making stuff up. Maybe they'd been marked by their own monsters, felt this same fever crawling under their skin. God, if my book club could see me now, sweating and shaking because some Mothman left his supernatural come shot on me.
Sluggishly, I reached the counter. Lucien was nowhere to be seen, so I rang the bell. Over and over to the point it was annoying me.
The door to the back room swung open, and Lucien emerged. I caught sight of the wall clock… lunchtime already.
Were there a bunch of Mothmen in there?
If Atlas was in there, I was gonna…
Lucien's eyes widened when he saw me. "Kassie! Wasn't expecting you today!" His brown hair stuck up in tufts as he hurried over, hands fluttering nervously. "Looking for another bookshelf, or—" His nostrils flared once before he pinched them shut with his fingers. "Oh, my."
“Where is Atlas?” I growled.
Lucien blinked several times. “You mean, he isn’t with you? I haven’t heard from him today.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and slammed my hands on the counter. “Is he back there?” I nodded to the door. “Is he in the break room?”
Lucien backed away, waving his hands in the air. “N-no, of course not! There is no one…”
I let out a hiss and darted around the counter toward the back room.
Lucien lunged after me, but too late—I was already shoving the door open with enough force to make it bang against the wall.
The scent hit me immediately: lingering traces of something sweet mixed with oatmeal and cinnamon, other smells I couldn’t identify.
There were a lot of lunches in here not long ago.
“You better not be lying to me, Lucien. Have you seen him or not?”
Lucien retreated to the far side of the room, shaking his head vigorously as he put as much distance as possible between himself and the door I'd just thrown open.
What was he doing?
The “don't be suspicious” voice from Parks and Rec repeated over and over in my head. Lucien was hiding something.
I growled; my inner Black Cat was coming out. “You know something, don’t you?”
Lucien shook his head again, his fingers twitching against each other like nervous insect legs. "No?" The word squeaked out as a question, betraying him.
I lunged toward him, and a sound like ripping silk escaped his throat—the same eerie noise Atlas made when startled. Apparently, all Mothmen shared that particular quirk.
I yanked Lucien's arm, triggering another round of those silk-ripping shrieks.
A sudden gust of wind hit my face as he stumbled backward.
When his balance failed, I seized the opportunity and grabbed his ankles.
I dragged him toward the break room with all my strength.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, I caught sight of it—no longer human, but a wickedly curved claw.
Yup, Mothman.
He gasped. “No, please!” Lucien gasped with panicked eyes. “You can’t see me!”
I hissed again. “Relax, I know you are a Mothman, and this whole town is full of monsters.”
Lucien blinked. “You do? Wait, why? How?”
Lucien stopped struggling, and I released his foot. My skin crawled where I'd touched him, like I'd dipped my hands in something rancid. I bolted to the sink, cranked the faucet to full blast, and scrubbed until my palms turned pink.
“Kassie, how do you know?” Lucien asked again.
When I turned, Lucien loomed above me in his Mothman form, his fur a deeper chestnut than Atlas' black and gray. My skin crawled as he leaned in, like I'd touched something rotten. Every cell in my body screamed to get away from him, and I stumbled backward until my back hit the counter.
I rolled my eyes. "Come on. Look at me." I gestured down at my outfit—the skull-patterned tights under ripped shorts, the vintage horror movie t-shirt.
"I collect scary movies and read monster smut.
You think someone like me wouldn't notice when her town is crawling with monsters?
I pay attention to things other people ignore.
" I stepped closer, my voice dropping. "Now tell me where Atlas is. I need to find him. Now."
My pussy fluttered, my clit felt like my heart was inside it.
Lucien recoiled, his antennae flattening against his head. "You reek of Atlas, but it's... overwhelming. Like someone dumped an entire vat of his scent on you." He gagged, his tongue unfurling involuntarily as he turned away.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I gathered that much. Atlas and I got down and dirty, and apparently, everyone but me can smell the evidence. Look, I need to find him right away, or I’m gonna hump an electrical pole. He's completely ghosting me—no calls, no texts, nothing."
Lucien shrugged. “He hasn’t been with me either. I don’t have a clue; that's why I thought he was with you. So, you know you did stuff with Atlas then, as a moth?
“Of course I did! Why else do you think I’m after him?!” I swiped a pretend claw at him.
Lucien squealed. "I don't know! He thought you believed it was just a dream—that's why he felt brave enough to... you know. And clearly he marked you with more pheromones than any Mothman has ever—" He fluttered his antennae nervously.
I slammed my fist into Lucien's stomach, only to have pain shoot up my arm. "Son of a—" I cradled my throbbing knuckles against my chest, wincing as I flexed my fingers.
“I am not as soft as Atlas; this is pure muscle.” Lucien rubbed his hand up and down his slightly furred stomach. “And yes, a dream. Since you know that was Atlas, you know you did stuff with a Mothman, and you were okay with it.”
I stared at him.
“Right. Don’t know where he is then. Good luck looking for him. If I see him, I will see if I can find you. Don’t tell anyone you know about monsters, otherwise there will be… issues.”
I growled and stomped around him to leave. “What sort of issues?”
Lucien's antennae twitched as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Think about it, Kassie.
A town like this survives on secrecy. If word gets out about what we are.
.." He leaned closer, voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
"Atlas would be the least of your problems. Monsters protect what's theirs, and they won't hesitate to make troublemakers. .. disappear."
I did not give a flying flickity fuck. I would call out a damn shifter, a headless man, a crazy tooth fairy to find Atlas.
How dare he leave me like this!
I stormed down Main Street with my jaw clenched, checking behind every parked car and peering through every shop window. The Mothman couldn't have just vanished into thin air… though technically, I supposed he could have flown away.
Could he be at his place? Where did he even live? Wow, way to go, Kassie. You rubbed yourself all over a Mothman, but don’t even know where he lives. Hell, you don’t even know where he’s been. He could have flown all over the world, and you didn’t know it either.
Ugh, Atlas could be in another dimension for all I knew! I growled under my breath, causing a few passersby to give me a wide berth. Good, I wasn't in the mood for small talk or polite smiles.
My phone stayed silent, no matter how many times I checked it. No calls, no texts from Atlas. I shoved it back into my pocket, resisting the urge to throw it against the nearest wall. I needed to think, to figure out where he could be.
The library? No, he’d worry about knocking something over. Besides, he told me he picked up his books rather than go inside.
The diner? Maybe, but it was always packed this time of day, and he wasn’t a fan of crowds, but it was the closest place I could go in to look.
I tugged at my shirt, trying to create some space between the damp fabric and my skin. My bra felt like a torture device, the underwire digging into flesh while my nipples strained painfully against the cups.
I pushed through the glass door, bell jingling overhead.
The scent hit me first—grilled butter and coffee and syrup.
Red vinyl booths lined the windows, each table topped with those little metal napkin dispensers and glass sugar shakers.
Black and white tiles stretched across the floor in perfect squares, leading to a counter where chrome-edged stools were bolted to the ground.
A small boy in a striped t-shirt slurped the last of a chocolate malt through his straw, the sound punctuated by the rhythmic thump of his sneakers against the metal base of his stool.
Across the diner, a woman leaned into a man's shoulder, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she watched him wiggle his fingers beneath their little boy's chin.
The boy giggled, kicking his feet wildly while the man's other hand traced slow circles on the woman's knee, his wedding band catching the light each time he moved.
Why did kids seem so cute all of a sudden?
Am I fucking ovulating???