Moth Wanted: A Dark Mothman Monster Romance (Monsters in the Bed) by Loki Renard

Author:Loki Renard [Renard, Loki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-15T16:00:00+00:00

6

We wait for Rage in the moonlit shadow of Order’s web. It’s getting cold out. The holiday season is starting to edge its way toward us in a tentative sort of way. I forget about that, because I never participate anymore. Christmas is one of those things that just sort of happens around me, like Valentine’s Day, and Halloween, and every other mass vacation event. I sit at the edges of it all, somewhat aware of it because I have to be, but not at all engaged with it.

“I should have brought a warmer jacket,” I say. “Didn’t expect to be out here so long. Thought I might have some chance at getting home before midnight.”

“What home?” He snorts the question with a particular kind of derision.

“What do you mean?”

“I followed your scent. You have no home. You have a room.”

“Dude. That is not cool. Have you heard of the concept of privacy? You had no right to break into my house! The fuck!”

“I was curious about you.”

“Stalkers are curious about people too. Your curiosity doesn’t excuse your creepiness. I don’t go breaking into your home. I could have come back here during the day and snooped around here, and I didn’t. I respected your space. I…”

He’s holding one of his hands up almost all the way in my face. It’s good that he has four hands, because if he does that gesture to stop me from talking, he’s gonna lose one.

“Calm down,” he says, uttering the only two words guaranteed to make someone lose their shit. “I had to investigate you.”

“And what did you learn, asshole?”

“I learned that apart from your profession, you have no ties to the world. There is no evidence of even a tenuous familial connection. No pictures. Nothing but piles of books, most of which tell tales of things that never happened. You are a fantasist escaping the repeated horrors inflicted upon you by a job that exposes you to the worst of humanity and the utmost suffering. You are a broken little thing, and you deserve to be looked after better than you are.”

Well damn. That’s what we in the business call a complete character assassination.

“I am not broken,” I seethe. “And I do not need to be looked after. Where is your stupid brother? I would rather have my throat ripped out than listen to this nonsense.”

“You have no food in your house.”

“Oh my god. I live in New York City! There’s food on literally every corner. You know what? You’re a fucking moth, so how about you tone down the judgement a little there, flappy.”

“You have no home.”

“My books are my home. Now shut up. You had no right to go to my apartment, and you have even less right to judge me. I’m here helping you even though you have the sexual morals of a flea and the personal boundaries of a sewer rat.”

He chuckles. Nothing I say seems to get under his skin, but he’s finding his way under mine almost without effort.

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