Chapter Sixteen
A week later
I’m in Lula’s garage, finally building my bike from Greta’s bones.
I mount her skull where the headlight will shine through. My very first victim that led me to Lula. Such fond memories.
Her ribcage wraps around the gas tank, certain bones for the brake handles, and a few frame the seat. Truly, I’m proud of myself. It’s remarkable work.
I grin when I smell my mate entering the garage. She never has to say anything when she enters a room. I always know. “Little Dream, what are you doing here?”
“Updating you. They finally found who killed Harold. Two bodies were found in a van in a nearby alley. Would you know anything about that?”
“I killed them and came straight home to you. Their fear didn’t taste nearly as good as yours. No one’s ever does.” I crack my neck, knowing I’ll need to feed again soon, more than what Lula can give me without the baby sinking his teeth into her womb.
He doesn’t like it when she’s afraid.
Fucking brat.
“I know,” she snickers. “I was just wanting to tease you a little. You know, I never did ask why you killed the taxidermist.”
“No, good reason. He was in my way of getting something I wanted,” I answer honestly.
I sniff the air, growling when I smell an unwanted person on this property. Using my speed, I grab Lula and shove her behind me, protecting her as the monsters like me that I’ve seen around town fill the doorway.
Growling as low and as threatening as I can, the nightmare within me spreads out, the roots traveling across the ground.
“Wait! Shade, stop! They are friends. It’s okay.” Lula rubs my back, urging me to calm down, but I remain in my stance.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we got curious as to who Lula was mated to, and it worked out because the Hell’s Harvesters are here and they are looking for you,” a beast that looks like a funny version of a crocodile speaks.
There’s a guy next to him who has his wings spread out and smoke billowing from his nose, wanting to fight.
“Okay, this isn’t a monster pissing contest. Put your beasts away,” the crocodile guy says, as if he is in charge.
“Get the fuck off my property. I’ve marked it. My mate is claimed. You have no business here,” I snarl. “And I don’t give a fuck about the Hell’s Harvesters. They can get fucked too.”
“Shade,” Lula scolds quietly. “Be nice. These are people who are just like us. They are experiments. They have mates and families. It would be good for us to stick together.”
Looking into Lula’s eyes always weakens me. My heart beats to keep her happy, so if that is what she wants, that is what she will have.
“Nice bike,” a human with a backwards cap praises. “You made that? I’m Fitz. You’re talented. We could use someone like you at the garage.”
“No, thanks. I’m good here.” I try to go back to work on my bike when Lula steps in front of it, her hands on her hips, her sassy Spanish tongue is about to speak a million miles a minute.
All that is going to do is have me fuck her right here in front of them, so she knows she’s mine.
I cross my arms. “Why would I work there? Have you seen me? I don’t blend in.”
“Okay, let’s start over,” Croc-man says with a clap of his hands. “I’m Rhett. I’m patient zero.”
My eyes widen. “Sorry to hear that.” I meant it. I remember those fucking procedures. They were torture, and I can’t imagine how it felt being the first.
“I’m a crocodile, gargoyle, vampire, ghost, and jellyfish. My mate is Mickey, a human, but she’s at home right now with our twins.”
“I’m Fitz. My mate is very pregnant and on bedrest, or she would have come. She is part harpy, succubus”—he blushes—“squid, chameleon, and siren.”
“Oh, you’re fucked,” I blurt.
Fitz laughs, nodding in agreement. “I like it that way.”
Rhett shoves the guy next to him, the one with grey skin and purple scales and smoke coming from his mouth.
“Put the dragon away. be nice, Creed. This guy could kill us all.”
Yes. I could.
I’m dying to. It’s been a week since I’ve killed, and I’m thirsting to do it again.
“I’m Creed,” he bites through clenched teeth. “My mate is Demi, the diner owner.”
“Tell him what you are.”
“No,” Creed argues. “I’m only here because Demi made me.”
I respect him more for that. I’d be the same way.
“Listen, we don’t have time for this bullshit.” Rhett’s concrete wings spread out in annoyance. “Hell’s Harvesters will be here any minute because of your crimes. You can’t go around killing humans any time you want.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“It’s bad.” Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose. “Moving on because you’re a lot like Creed, and I only have patience for him some of the day. People see you in human form due to the rain being spelled.”
Ah, that makes sense.
“Sorry, Shadey. I meant to tell you,” Lula says.
She started calling me Shadey a few days ago, and I love it. It fits. And I’ve never had a nickname. If anyone has the power to make me feel human again, it’s her.
“It’s okay. A lot has happened. You don’t need to explain a thing.
” I cup her face, not wanting her to feel for one minute that it is her fault.
My skin slithers with my roots, hating that they are there.
“Listen, I only have so much tolerance for…people. My nightmare is clawing at my skin, and it’s because of you. ”
“That’s so fucking wild,” Fitz beams.
An odd human.
“Anyway, I wanted to extend a job offer to my garage. Snapdragons. You have clear talent.”
“Do I have to socialize?”
“Shade, sé amable.”
“I am being nice,” I grumble, cracking my neck as the nightmare slithers under my skin.
Lula’s hand touches my arm, the simple, innocent touch calms me instantly, the evil only lurking through my eyes instead of trying to pry from my body.
“You’re okay. You won’t hurt them.”
“I want to,” I bite, cutting my eyes to the monster with fire, Creed. I don’t like him. I wonder what he is afraid of. If he is afraid of anything.
“I know, but they aren’t here as a threat, Shadey. They are here so we can be friends. It would be good for our little parasite to have friends, and they have kids,” she points out.
I growl, not liking that she is right. I don’t want my kid to be alone. “Fine. Yes. I’ll take your offer to work at the garage. These are human bones though. Can I provide those? I already have the beetles I need to clean the bones.”
“You won’t be building human bone bicycles. Oh my god, you’re just like Creed. Okay, you’ll be building the bikes the customers want. What the humans want.”
I curl my lip, take a step back, and look Rhett up and down. The audacity to come onto my property and say I have to listen to humans.
Hay, Dios mío.
That’s what Lula would say. I hear her voice in my head because I hear it all the time. She says it when she wakes up sleepy, mad, laughing, stubbing her toe, whatever, she says it a hundred times a day, and if anyone ever made her stop saying it, I would kill them.
Brutally.
Lula shoves me forward.
“Fine,” I mumble. “Thanks.”
“You and Creed won’t be allowed to interact. It’s a rule.”
“I’d fucking kill him anyway,” Creed dares.
My nightmare is inside him before he has a chance to blow his fucking smoke. Creed’s eyes turn black, but shockingly, I don’t find a single thing he is afraid of.
Demi is all that is in his mind, so if I wanted to truly kill him, I’d kill her, which I wouldn’t do because she’s good.
Loud, sorrow-filled screams pierce the air, which has me rescinding the shadow.
“Who are they?” I question, staring down the end of the driveway.
“Uh, like paranormal police but way more dangerous,” Fitz, the human, explains. “Led by Abaddon, then The Four Horsemen.”
“…the Four Horsemen.”
Everyone nods.
Motorcycles come down the driveway, their bikes bigger, made of bones too, but the screams come from within the bike. The closer they get, the more I see the souls pressing their faces against the motorcycle, begging to be set free.
Something about their nearness calms me, in a way. It’s as if my nightmare recognizes them. I don’t know how or why.
They are massive though. Bigger than me.
“Another DNA experiment,” the leader says. “I’ve learned not to try to do anything with you lot. Especially now since you’re mated.” He stands in front of me, and a giant wave of power actually causes my beasts to still.
All but the nightmare.
He’s ready to do whatever this guy tells him to.
“Abaddon,” he holds out his hand.
“Shade.” I shake it, a vibration passing between us.
“Well, well, well, that is interesting. I knew you were part nightmare. It was the only thing that made sense when I heard about how the victims died. Good thing I brought the reinforcement, or we would all be fucked.”
“He can’t be stronger than you guys.” Rhett is taken aback and confused.
“Are you kidding? He’s one pissed off rage away from taking over this entire town to give every person deadly nightmares.”
“He can do that?” Lula asks with a terrified gasp.
Mmm, her terror tastes good.
“Oh, yeah. If he really wanted, if something really triggered it, depending on his rage, he could collapse this planet and give everyone deadly nightmares.”
“What could trigger something like that?” Lula questions, her worry vibrating through the bond.
I go to her side and wrap my arms around her, doing my best to change that.
“It would need to be huge. The loss of a mate or child would do it.”
I snarl low in warning, telling him in the darkest, deepest gravel I have to shut the fuck up. No one will talk about my mate or unborn child that way.
Unleashing the roots and nightmare at the same time wasn’t a choice. It just happened at the idea of someone taking away my family from me.
My. Family.
I’ve had my family taken from me once, and I will die protecting the one I have made from scratch. A family fated to me.
“Ah, ah, ah, nightmare. I can’t let you do that.” A playful, arrogant tone becomes a wall, blocking the nightmare and roots from reaching the Hell’s Harvesters.
Out of sand, another creature appears. He doesn’t look like The Four Horsemen. Instead, he is tall, lean, but built, wearing a black-on-black suit.
He brushes sand off it.
“Think of him like the King of Dreams. Nightmare is his son,” Abaddon explains.
I cross my arms, not giving a shit about who this man in front of me is.
“Yeah, he is definitely part nightmare,” Dreamer says. “Not the good part either, but he’s family. Nightmare isn’t going to be happy.”
“Yeah, makes two of us.”
Dreamer smiles. “That isn’t what I meant. He will not be happy that he had a son that he didn’t know about.”
“Well, considering the circumstances, I’m assuming someone got his DNA because here I am. You’ll need to ask him how the scientists got it.”
“Yes, yes,” he says, thoughtfully, also wondering how. “I will. Don’t go into their minds.” He points to The Hell’s Harvesters. “You’ll be able to get inside their head, but you aren’t trained for that. You’d die being in a mind as strong as theirs.”
“We want to offer you a deal,” Abaddon says. “We want you to be part of Hell’s Harvesters. You can stay here, but when we call, you will come. You’ll be able to feed off the fear you need to survive without killing any more people.”
I don’t like that. Killing is part of how I feed the nightmare.
“Five people. Criminals only,” Lula steps up, her badge still on her hip. “Per year.”
“Ten,” I counter.
“Five,” Dreamer states. “That’s all you need since you are mated. So young too. Nightmare will be jealous. He is thousands of years old but has not met his fated mate.”
“I’ll send tissues. Is this done? I’d rather get back to my life.”
“Do we have a deal?” Dreamer steps forward, holding out his hand. Sand twirls in the air. “Shake on it. Our entities will have to bond. If you break the bond, there will be trouble, understand?”
Growling, I slap my hand in his. “Yes.”
Black smoke swirls around the sand, a small twister forming as electricity intensifies.
“Excellent.” Our creatures seep into us again, the contract officially binding. “Don’t call me grandpa. Makes me feel old.”
“You’re not my family. Lula is.”
“We’ll see,” Dreamer hums. “So much like him,” he mutters, taking a step near one of the Horsemen who is looking directly into my eyes.
“I’m Death. That’s Famine. Conquest. And War.” Death points to each. “It isn’t often we recruit, but your skills are valuable.” He tosses a black cut at me. “Welcome to the Hell’s Harvesters.”
I turn it over to see my name stitched across the left chest, reminding me of the days when I was part of Shallow Sinners.
“First trip we take, we will go to see your old crew. They spent a lot of time looking for you, but your scent trail ended,” Famine says.
“Scent? They are—”
“Shifters. Yes. We’ll get you connected,” Death chimes in.
“Death might get emotional at the reunion.”
“Shut the fuck up, Famine,” Death snaps, the green grass wilting and turning to ash as it dies.
“Yeah, it would be good to see them one day.” I get lost in the memory of Prez saving me from that situation. He did everything he promised.
I wonder where my cut went when the scientists took me. I wonder what they did with it. I wish I could see them again and ask before killing them.
“I have to go,” Dreamer announces as if I give a fuck. “It was nice meeting you, Shade. I hope to see more of you.”
“I hope you don’t.”
“Shadey.”
“What? I don’t. I need everyone to get out. The nightmare is clawing at me with you all here.”
“You need to be trained,” War informs me. “I’ll come by soon. We’ll get started, but for now, everyone needs to leave.”
One by one, they all leave, finally leaving me alone with Lula.
“You need me, don’t you?” Lula asks. “Come give me nightmares, Shadey.”
“How did you know?”
“Mi alma lo dice.”
I grab Lula’s hand, blurring us against the wall, and the shadow seeps into her. Those brown eyes I love so much turn black, burnt tears dripping down her face.
“Let me see what you fear, Little Dream.”
The end
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