Moth: MM Monster Romance (Monstrous Book 5), page 33
He looked thinner. Gaunt, made worse by the scraggly beard on his pale face. His grey eyes were deeply shadowed, lips pale and cracked.
He scrambled onto his knees the moment he saw me, gripping the bars. “Moth.”
I forgot everything else, lunging forward to get to him. Dain’s grip on one of my bags stopped me dead, making me grunt as he jerked me back.
“Bags off,” he rumbled ominously. “And the sword, half-breed.”
I quickly shed them, leaving them by the door and striding forward to drop to my knees in front of Charlie’s cage.
“Are you okay?” I asked shakily, reaching through the bars to cup his face, my eyes tracking down him to see if he’d been injured in any way.
His eyes darted to the Herald and Dain behind me, growing grim before he offered me a tiny, tired smile. “I’m okay.”
His voice was hoarse. They weren’t giving him enough water.
I wanted to kiss him so badly that my throat ached, but I refused to do it in front of the Herald. I reluctantly slid my hands from his face and gripped the bars above his hands.
“Alive, as I said.” The Herald’s toneless voice made me flinch. Charlie and I stared at one another in silence. “Now we will go upstairs and you will inform me of your progress.”
I swallowed, still staring at Charlie. Before I stood up, I pried one of his hands free from the bar to kiss the back of it.
“I’ll get you out,” I whispered. “I promise.”
His throat bobbed, and he shook his head. “Don’t promise anything to them—Don’t tell them that you’ll—”
A huge crash above our heads cut him off, both of us jerking our gazes up. There was another faint, muffled sound like someone smashing through wood, followed by a chorus of frantic voices.
A door opened somewhere in the basement level, and then the sound of bare feet slapping over the ground got closer and closer.
“Almighty,” the cult member gasped as they appeared, clutching at the wall. “The sinner is—He has gone mad. He is destroying the great hall—He—”
“See to it.” The Herald’s voice held absolutely no anger or shock as they waved a hand at Dain, who turned and loped off after the cult member obediently.
I eyed his wide back until it disappeared and his heavy footsteps got fainter. As my gaze flitted to the Herald, a sudden realisation made my stomach jolt with a spike of adrenaline.
This was the first time I could ever remember being alone with them—without at least one of their aytorin in tow.
Before I could stop it, my gaze darted to my sword sitting with all our bags by the door.
Would I have time to reach it?
And if I did… would I be fast enough to kill them? Strong enough? I knew I was stronger than humans. Charlie had told me several times. But was I stronger than a full salyik? I had no idea what salyiks were like. I’d never seen the Herald do anything that required the use of strength.
The Herald been languishing here for years, being waited on hand and foot by doting cult members.
I hadn’t. I’d been living alone in the Wastes, fighting off monsters and terrible humans, fending for myself.
Before standing, I took one last look at Charlie, just in case this all went horribly wrong. I forced myself to give him a tiny smile, then straightened up and turned to face the Herald.
They were standing there impassively, hands clasped together at their front, eyes dead and flat as they watched me.
“Upstairs.”
I didn’t answer. I realised that I wasn’t afraid of what I was about to do. I just worried about what it would mean for Charlie. Maybe I’d be able to hurt the Herald enough to at least find the key to Charlie’s cage before they killed me. I was sure they had that keyring hidden in the secret pockets of their robe. They were too controlling to let anyone else keep hold of them.
I slowly walked over to my bags, keeping my eyes off my sword in case they noticed. The Herald followed in silence, and when we reached the pile of stuff, I stopped and turned so my back wasn’t to them.
They let out a tiny sound of displeasure.
“Incapable of following even the simplest of orders.” A hint of disdain filled their pink-grey eyes as they looked over me. “You will go upstairs, Malimoth, and you will—”
Those horrible eyes flared as I lunged for my sword. Before I could grab its hilt, the Herald was fisting my hair and wrenching my head back. They flung me away, and I lost my footing and skidded on my ass toward Charlie’s cage.
“Fuck,” I heard him bark frantically, but I couldn’t afford to look at him for even a second.
I scrambled to my feet and lunged at the Herald when they approached, anger twisting their usually blank face—the first emotion I had ever seen them truly display. Their arms came up to ward off my blow, but I anticipated it and punched them square in the face. I felt their nose crunch under my knuckles, which started throbbing immediately, but I didn’t let it stop me. I lifted my leg and booted them in the knee, making it buckle. They dropped, clutching at their nose as deep purplish-pink blood gushed down the front of their robe.
The familiar, searing pain washed over me, making my teeth clench so hard it felt like they would crack. They were trying to send me away. Trying to get rid of me before I could hurt them any more, because they were a fucking coward. The pain was near debilitating, but I refused to let it incapacitate me. My limbs trembling, I clutched at my stomach and lifted a leg to kick the Herald once in the head, causing them to fly back until their skull hit the concrete with a dull thud. The pain faded as they lost their concentration, and I turned to run for my sword, but a foot kicked out at my ankle, making me stumble. Long fingers curled into the fabric of my jeans and yanked.
My legs flew out from under me, chin hitting the ground hard. I twisted frantically onto my back as the Herald’s clawing grip reached higher up my leg, dragging me closer to them. I kicked out, dislodging their arm and once again scrambling up to try and reach my sword.
“P-pathetic mongrel,” they gasped, clawing at my ankle and yanking me back until I landed on my belly with a pained grunt. “Half-breed abomination.”
Fury bled into my vision. Any pain I was feeling faded as adrenaline flooded my limbs, allowing me to twist around and slam the heel of my boot into the Herald’s chin.
Their head flew back with a pained cry, fingers slipping off my ankle. I scrambled up and grabbed a fistful of their hair, slamming their head into the ground. They screeched and clawed at my hands, sharp nails gouging long, deep lines into my skin.
I slammed their head down again before a fist smashed into my stomach, causing my grip to loosen as I grunted with pain. They wrenched their head free and slid away a few inches, trying to get some distance.
But they made a mistake.
Charlie was waiting. The moment they were within reach, he snatched up their hair and pinned their head against the bars of his cage. I didn’t waste any time, crawling over to straddle the Herald’s waist as they twisted and fought Charlie’s hold.
Sharp fingernails raked down my face as I grabbed a handful of white hair at the top of their head and brought my fist down hard on their ruined nose. They choked in agony, nails scrabbling over my throat and collarbone, digging deep into my skin.
I punched again. And again. I couldn’t see anymore, red and black clouding my vision, the resistance against my knuckles getting softer and wetter until my fist was sinking into raw meat. Hot blood splashed up my arm. The Herald’s chokes turned to gurgles, then nothing.
But I still couldn’t stop. There was only ringing in my ears, red and black and purple in my vision and intense, searing pain in my knuckles that just pushed me to keep going—to relish it.
It was only when a low, soothing voice broke through, faint at first, that everything else started returning around me. I was shaking wildly, my breaths shuddering out of me too hard and too fast. When I blinked, the crushed cavern of deep pink blood, raw meat and shattered bone that had once been the Herald’s face stared back up at me.
“They’re dead, baby.” Warm, trembling fingers cupped my cheek as I stared down at the mess beneath me. “You can stop. Look at me, Moth.”
I blinked again, then again, my fist still cocked up by my shoulder. I lowered it slowly, my entire hand throbbing and already swelling, as I lifted my wide eyes to Charlie through the bars.
He’d let go of the Herald’s hair, and he cupped my face in both hands, forcing me to keep looking at him.
“Deep breath, Moth.” He gripped my chin and lowered his other hand to my chest, its warmth seeping through my shirt. “Come on. You need to slow your heartrate.”
I sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.
“Again.”
I sucked in another, then another, keeping my eyes locked with his grey ones.
“Good.” He stroked his thumb over my chin.
Everything else came back in a rush. Where we were, what I’d just done. The fact that Charlie was still locked in a cage.
I shuffled back and searched frantically through the folds of the Herald’s robes until I found the hidden pockets. The ring of keys was small, not many on there, and I fumbled with them as I became increasingly aware that Dain could return at any second.
The third one fit the lock to Charlie’s cage. The moment its door swung open, he was wrapping me up in a brief, hard hug. I felt him press a kiss to my lank hair, then he was moving swiftly toward our bags and snatching them all up.
I rose unsteadily to my feet, feeling dazed. I went to help him, but my eyes caught on the Herald’s ruined face and froze me in place.
They were dead.
Their body was sprawled haphazardly against Charlie’s cage, white hair matted and soaked in blood, the front of their robe stained completely with it. Their face was just… gone. One eyeball with its pinkish-grey iris was—
I swallowed and looked away, just as Charlie appeared in front of me with all our bags. My body was trembling with a fresh wave of adrenaline as I took mine from him and slung them over my back, then laced my blood-sticky fingers through his, ignoring the stab of agony it caused, and tugged him away from the cages.
We made our way through the basement in silence. We couldn’t go up to the main floor—too many people around, and the aytorin could be lurking anywhere. We just had to hope there was a way out down here.
It had gone quiet above. I wondered briefly what had happened—why a “sinner” had started smashing up the room where they all worshipped—but I didn’t let myself think about it for too long.
When I spotted the half window high up on the wall, murky light seeping through the grimy glass, I pulled Charlie over without saying a word. He stretched up to unlatch it, shoving until it finally unstuck and swung out with a squeal.
“You first,” I rasped, pulling off Charlie’s bags and chucking them through the window.
He shook his head. “No, you—”
“I can jump.” I lowered myself to one knee beneath the window to give him a leg-up. “Come on, Charlie.”
He knew we didn’t have time to argue. I laced my fingers together on my thigh, palms up. My right hand was almost double the size of the left, and my fingers felt useless, but I just squeezed them with the ones on my left and refused to acknowledge the searing agony that briefly whited-out my vision.
Need to get Charlie out.
I lifted him with a groan when his boot gingerly stepped onto my palms, and the moment his hands gripped the edges of the window he lifted his foot. His arms shook as he pulled himself through. He was weak, underfed, but he didn’t make a sound as he wriggled through the narrow window.
His worried face reappeared, arm stretching down. “Bags.”
I passed him my bag and sword, before bending my knees and leaping up to grip the bottom ledge of the window. Black spots danced in my vision as my ruined fingers struggled to cling on. Gritting my teeth, I heaved myself up and felt Charlie tugging me the rest of the way through.
I wanted to just lie there, panting into the cold ground, my body trembling wildly. But Charlie still needed me. He needed me to get him away. My legs shook as I stood up, gritting my teeth to suppress the hiss of pain when I pressed the heel of my damaged hand to the ground.
Charlie helped me slip my bag and sword back on, then did the same with his own stuff. My hand was useless now, and I saw him cast the swollen appendage a worried glance before his tight eyes tracked over the multiple cuts I could feel stinging my face and neck, but he didn’t say anything.
He pointed toward the forest behind the mall, and we started running. The outside of the shopping mall was quiet, but it was only a matter of time until Dain returned to the basement and found the Herald.
Would he come after us to exact revenge? Or would he try and take over the cult now that the Herald was dead? How long until the members realised they could actually leave—that their marks were useless now?
Despite the shock that had yet to really fade, it hit me in an overwhelming rush that the Herald would never summon me again. As Charlie and I crashed through the forest, leaving the mall and the cult behind, I felt my mouth stretch into a wide, wobbly grin.
I was free.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Charlie
I’d never seen anyone go into that kind of killing rage before.
I could tell that Moth hadn’t really been with it. Long after the Herald stopped struggling, stopped moving at all, he’d just kept punching. And punching.
If I’d had a weaker stomach, I would’ve thrown up its meagre contents at the sight of Moth pummelling the Herald’s face into pulp. And if I hadn’t known what the Herald had subjected Moth to, I would’ve been horrified.
But I wasn’t. I was just overwhelmingly relieved that the Herald was gone, and they’d never be able to hurt him again.
We eventually stopped running when Moth told me, face still dazed and filmy pupils still too big, that we had to change course to head east. Before we started heading that way, he pulled my coat out of my bag and handed it to me, making my eyes get hot.
I was desperate to pull him into my arms and make sure he was alright—to convince myself that I was really back with him. That we were away from that place, and together. But we had to keep moving. I didn’t know if those aytorin would come after us when they found the Herald’s body.
We kept going even when it got dark, with Moth threading the fingers of his good hand through mine and guiding us. I was exhausted. I could feel how weak I’d gotten from lack of food, fresh air and movement. But Moth was coming down from an intense adrenaline high, and he was still pushing forward, so I forced myself to as well. I wanted to get him as far away from that place as possible.
Eventually we stopped when we came across a house that looked deserted but largely intact. Moth fumbled to get his flashlight out of his bag, hissing with pain when he tried to use his wrecked hand. I stepped closer to get it out for him, then couldn’t stop myself from cupping his face in the dark and pressing a kiss to his cheek. I lingered there for longer than I probably should have, breathing in his faint citrus scent, still detectible beneath the layer of sweat and grime coating both of us.
“I think my hand might be broken,” Moth said shakily as I pulled away and switched on the flashlight.
“Yeah.” I found his good hand in the dark and pulled him to the front door, then reached around to unzip my bag and take my gun out. “Wait here, okay? I’m going to check the house.”
“I’ll do it.” He made a move for the front door, but I gently urged him back.
“No, Moth, you wait here.” I pushed his straggly hair back from his face. “I’ve done this a thousand times. I’ll be fine.”
He let out a slow breath and nodded, but his fingers were reluctant to uncurl from the front of my shirt. When I went to ease the door open, I realised it had been smashed in at some point, which didn’t bode well for us, but the hallway was dark and still, grit crunching into the old carpet under my boots as I stepped inside.
I stopped and listened. Silence.
Sweeping the flashlight from side to side, I saw the staircase in front of me next to a long hallway that led to what looked like the kitchen. On my left was a set of open double doors leading to the living room, and on my right an old office, the big solid-wood desk one of the few things remaining in there.
I made my way methodically through the lower floor of the house before slowly making my way upstairs. The rooms were stripped just as bare as the floor below, even the curtains ripped down from the windows. But there was still a mattress on one of the beds, and the bathroom was intact, though filthy. Vines had crept through a cracked window and wound their way along the shower rod. When I turned on the faucet over the bath, nothing came out.
Once I was sure the house was empty, I thumped back downstairs hurriedly to get Moth. He was waiting exactly where I’d left him, pale eyes staring vacantly into the dark. I gently took his good hand and pulled him inside, heading straight upstairs to the bedroom.
After easing his stuff from his back, I made him sit down on the edge of the bed before dropping cross-legged to the floor in front of him, hurriedly searching through my bag for my medical kit. My chest ached at the thought of Moth carrying all our combined stuff across the Wastes. I wouldn’t’ve cared if he’d left mine behind in New York, but I was so grateful to him that I couldn’t help leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the back of his good hand, not caring how dirty it was. I wasn’t in any better state.
“Let’s get your hand fixed, huh?” I tried to smile up at him, because the vacant expression hadn’t left him yet. “I told you I’d nurse the shit out of you if you needed it. Now’s my chance.”
He didn’t say anything as I cleaned the blood and dirt from his swollen hand with an antiseptic wipe, trying to be as gentle as possible. I saw his white teeth flash in the weak beam from the flashlight as he grimaced with pain, but he didn’t say a word.
“This will hurt,” I told him grimly as I gently felt across his knuckles, trying to see what was broken. It was too swollen to tell, but that was enough of an indicator.
