Chapter 2
A Monster’s Return
Did you miss me, Evie?
The monster who lives under my bed has returned. I brought him here.
And judging by the cold, grating texture of his voice, he is pissed.
One of his smoky tendrils wraps around my neck, causing more goose pimples to race and rise across my skin.
My eyes slam shut at the touch I long missed. Every emotion riots inside me, fighting for dominance—from relief, to grief, to excitement, to anger. I land on the last emotion and cling to it with all my might.
"Where have you been?" My words come out shaky, through bared teeth.
I don’t want to open my eyes. Despite feeling his caress, I fear I’ll open them and find myself alone, again.
There is such a long pause, I force my eyelids up.
As soon as I try to see into the unfathomable darkness, the tendril around my neck hardens and forms into a monstrous hand with long black talons.
The pressure is enough to raise alarms in the sensical part of my brain.
The other stupid part of me is so grateful to be touched again.
I follow a black scaled arm up a hard bicep, taking in the muscular torso. Over twice the size of an already large man, he fills the room. The cut of his abs allows for an extra set, adding to his supernatural strangeness. Streaks of gray veins press underneath his onyx skin.
Horns jut out from the top of his head, like sinister spires, curving backwards with an elegance that belies their deadly sharpness.
Their surface is textured, appearing almost molten, as if forged in the heart of a dark, infernal flame then cooled into twisted, obsidian silhouettes.
When I meet his gaze, I find a pair of glowing white eyes, as if they are made of mist. For being so ethereal, they punch straight through me, taking my breath away.
He’s here. He’s really here. My Shadow.
Suddenly, I’m thrown back to when I first saw Shadow. To when I first felt him.
4 Years Old
I’m with a new family. The other one didn’t want me. Neither did the family before them. No one wants me.
This place smells yucky, like bad veggies. The sheets are scratchy and there’s no night-light.
I hate it.
Quiet tears escape my eyes as I cling to my stuffed animal, a parrot named Snarp. I can’t let them hear me crying, or they’ll come in the room.
I don’t want them in my room. They don’t feel like a mommy or a daddy.
Not that I know what parents feel like, but I see other kids with their mommies and daddies. It’s like looking into a window of someone else’s house. I shouldn’t look, but I can’t help myself.
My heart gets all tight, kind of how Play-Doh feels when you squeeze it too hard. I can’t sleep. I go back and forth between rolling in bed and sitting up, holding Snarp and my knees to my chest.
I roll for the bazillionth time when Snarp slips off my bed. Panic shoots up into my throat, ringing alarm bells in my head. Oh no! Poor Snarp might be hurt, or worse, he’ll think I don’t love him.
Tears blur my vision as they start falling again. I need to hug him and kiss him and make it all better. We only have each other.
Crawling to the side of the bed, I see my parrot lying on the ground. As I reach down to grab him, a low rumbling comes from under the bed.
I gasp and snatch my hand back with a small whimper.
My eyes focus on Snarp even as something moves under my bed. The rumbling quiets, but a clacking taps across the wood floor. Despite fear pounding in my ears, I lean forward to see. I shove a fist in my mouth to keep from making a sound as fear tightens around me.
Two claws appear from under my bed, and then three more, making a full hand.
My scream is muffled by the fingers I’ve pushed into my mouth. My chest jerks up and down with each painful breath.
Those razor-sharp talons wrap around Snarp. Another whimper escapes me as my only friend is gripped by a monster.
Shame and fear wash over me as I scramble back to the middle of the bed. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I rock back and forth violently. A lump blocks my throat, so I can’t call out for help.
But I need someone to save Snarp. He’s all I have.
And I’m all he has.
Oh, Snarp.
My heart shatters as I realize I’ve abandoned him.
Just like how I’ve been left. I can’t do that to my best friend. Forcing my arms down from my legs, hands clenched in tight fists, I bite down on my lower lip until the taste of dirty pennies filters into my mouth.
I crawl back to the edge of the bed, trying to control my shaking. I have to be brave for Snarp.
My parrot still lies on the floor, but the monster still has Snarp in its clutches.
Except... it’s not hurting my parrot. Long fingers stroke down Snarp’s side with surprising gentleness before it experimentally flaps a wing.
It’s almost as if the beast under my bed is trying to understand what it’s touching.
Those long, scary fingers drift up until they pet the top of Snarp’s head, and the knot in my chest loosens the teeniest bit.
"Can I have my parrot back?" I ask. My voice comes out surprisingly strong.
Those fingers stiffen as if caught in a cookie jar. They curl into its palm. For a moment, I think it’ll retreat under my bed. Visions of reaching down to pick up my best friend before being grabbed and pulled under the bed and eaten by big scary fangs leave me trembling again.
But then those talons gently wrap around Snarp before lifting him. A long, black, scaled arm emerges from under the bed, forcing me to back up in a hurry again. I’m careful to only go as far as the middle of the bed in case something tries to snatch me from the other side.
The monster sets the bird on the bed, still being gentle with Snarp.
Then the hand starts to move back down and away. I stutter, "Th—thank you."
Pausing its descent, the hand then reaches back up slowly to lift one of Snarp’s wings. It flaps the wing twice, and a low growl comes from under the bed again.
Despite the deep scary rumblings, it looks like my bird is waving at me in a friendly gesture.
The knot in my chest loosens a little bit more.
Then the hand retreats entirely this time, along with the sound.
I chance a look over the edge of the bed in time to watch the fingers slide back under the bed skirt.
"I’m going to sleep now, please don’t eat me," I politely ask the monster under my bed.
This time the sound it makes is closer to a deep purr.
I still don’t sleep the rest of the night just in case it tries, but the longer I lie there, the more I feel less alone.
After that night, I never felt truly alone. Not until four years ago. When Shadow disappeared.
But here he is, in front of me.
"I can’t tell you where I was," he finally answers. While his voice is low and grating, some of the monstrous growl drains away.
So many more questions bubble up inside me, punching and kicking at each other to get out first. My grip tightens on the bra I still hold to my naked breasts. Shame continues to burn my exposed skin.
"Did you leave because of me?" I immediately want to take back my first question.
That low, long rumble again.
Oh God, how I missed it. I missed it so bad that hearing it again generates a new kind of ache in my chest.
"Evie."
It’s only my name, but it sends hot feelings of need crashing over me. With few words, he says so much, and he fills my simple name with pity.
Did he miss me? Has he completely moved on?
I haven’t. Not even close.
It’s the reason I check under my bed five times a day.
... Okay, twenty.
It’s the reason I have to dangle an entire arm over the edge of the bed when I sleep.
And it’s the reason I put myself in a compromising situation tonight. Because I had to believe he’d come for me.
He did.
Relief and anger still war inside me. But a third feeling takes the lead, swelling unbearably in my heart. Grief.
"I couldn’t follow you. You know that." My tone is bitter, as I’m unable to let the hurt seep through. I have no way of reaching Shadow wherever he goes when he disappears.
"Evie." This time it’s a plea for understanding. It pulls at a string connected to my navel.
"How could you leave me like that?" I yell this time, angrily fastening my bra back on.
Then he’s in my face. All I see are his misty eyes, lit with white-hot fury that scalds me to my bones. "You think I wanted to leave you?" he snarls.
His words shock me, but I’m on a roll with my anger. It tumbles downhill like a giant boulder I’ll end up smashed under, but the momentum feels so good I don’t care.
My arms cross over my stomach, as if I can stop that jerking sensation just behind my belly button. "Didn’t you? You hated being trapped with me. Always watching from under the bed. You couldn’t wait to get away from me. You’re just like everyone else."
Tears crowd in my throat, but my eyes burn from the hate I feel. I hate him. He is a monster, after all.
Suddenly, I’m up against the wall where John or James was pinned ten minutes ago. Shadow’s grip encircles my arms with an almost bruising grip. I welcome it. Heat rushes through my veins as every nerve ending receives tiny lightning strikes.
"You don’t know what I do," he says, voice full of gravel, fury, and anguish. "What I’d give up for you. What I gave up for you. I gave my freedom up for you."
The question comes out a half-strangled whisper. "What?"