Treasured By a Monster (Monstrous Guardians #3)

Chapter 1

oNe

SOMEONE WAS IN MY room.

Not my house.

My room.

I didn't move, didn't gasp, didn't even twitch. My body knew to freeze long before my brain caught up. I forced my breathing into slow, even pulls while my brain analyzed my room for weapons.

The mass-market paperback on the nightstand wasn't going to cut it. My phone would be useful, if I didn't mind getting murdered mid-reach.

My heartbeat pounded against my ribs as I listened. Hard. My white noise machine—a stupid air purifier—drowned out half the room. I cursed it with every silent swear word I had.

I cracked my eyelids just enough to scan the dark. Maybe I was being paranoid, and there was nothing there. I needed to stop reading thrillers before bed. But something woke me up. Maybe a pinecone hit the roof?

Only pinecones didn't breathe.

And they didn't cast shadows that shifted in the corner.

Icy panic surged up my spine. I swallowed it down. Running blind never saved anyone. But staying frozen wasn't going to work much longer, either. My legs twitched, preparing to run. Whoever was standing by my closet was thankfully not between me and the door.

With a burst of speed my middle school gym teacher would've cried over, I launched out of bed and sprinted for the hallway. Heavy footsteps thundered behind me. I didn't look back. Fast prey dies slower.

I could run to my neighbor on the left, Mr. Howard, elderly and half-deaf.

I wasn't sure he would even hear me pounding on his door.

He had a tendency to take his hearing aids out at night.

Not the best choice. Or my neighbor to the right, whom I'd given the nickname Mr. Creepy.

An even worse choice. And the last direction—the woods across the street.

My body chose the woods before my brain even cast a vote.

I darted through underbrush and around trees. Branches slapped my arms, and my bare feet sank into mud. Something sharp punched into the sole of my left foot. Pain detonated. I hit the ground hard.

I crawled behind a fallen tree and smeared mud over exposed skin like a feral Rambo impersonator. I shook and listened to the woods breathe around me.

No footsteps followed.

Weird.

The kind of weird that made the back of my neck prickle.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ninety seconds, I used the log to push myself upright. Well—upright-ish. My left foot screamed every time it touched the ground. I teetered, got my balance and started to walk.

Mr. Howard's porchlight glowed through the trees like a lighthouse beacon. I limped toward it, through my yard, and into my still wide-open front door, flicking on every light as I went.

I grabbed my phone and dialed nine-one-one as I pulled a tee shirt from my dresser.

Knocking might have gone unnoticed, but Mr. Howard would absolutely wake up to sirens and blue flashing lights.

I'd rather not be caught in just my underwear.

I also managed to pull on a pair of sweats.

I briefly considered washing off the mud, but the mental image of the cops finding me naked in the shower was enough to veto that.

The dispatcher was calm. I was... trying to be. She asked for details but I didn't have many. I got the impression she thought I'd dreamed the intruder until I told her there were muddy boot prints on my carpet, and no, they couldn't be mine since I still had no shoes on.

By the time the first officer arrived, I was seated at my tiny kitchen table, foot propped on the edge, trying not to pass out as I examined the foreign object embedded in my arch.

A piece of pine straw and a few dead leaf bits framed what appeared to be the head of a nail.

Good thing I was up to date on my tetanus vaccine.

I carefully brushed away the pine straw and leaf bits.

Definitely a nail.

Definitely not coming out without medical intervention.

Definitely the worst souvenir the woods had ever given me.

More police swarmed in. My rental wasn't big enough for this many people with guns. When the EMTs arrived, I watched them elbow their way past a particularly stubborn officer like they were battling for the last slice of pizza.

A basin and a bottle of water later, the three of us stared at what was definitely a nail stuck in my foot. The two EMTs debated the best course of action while I tried not to pass out. I wasn't an overly woozy person, but the adrenaline crash coupled with the pain had my head spinning.

"Yeah," one EMT said. "Hospital."

No argument here.

They bundled me onto a stretcher and wheeled me through my newly christened crime scene. Mr. Howard waved from behind police tape.

"Haven! Are you okay?"

"Just fine, Mr. Howard! Exciting night. One star. Would not repeat."

He nodded, satisfied.

I scanned the rest of the small crowd. Neighbors. Flashing lights. Concern.

But one person was conspicuously absent.

My right-side neighbor.

The creepy one.

The one who never slept, if the porchlight patterns were anything to go by.

The one whose presence made my instincts skitter.

A cold ripple rolled down my spine.

I was definitely beefing up my home security tomorrow.

Assuming I still wanted to sleep in this house at all.