The Labyrinth (Monsters of New York) by Beth D. Carter

Author:Beth D. Carter [Carter, Beth D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 2025-09-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Neither one of them said anything for the first thirty minutes as they headed back to the city. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to say. The shock of what they had stumbled upon didn’t fade, so fantastical that she wondered if she made it up.

She hoped, with every piece of her heart, that Peter hadn’t passed through those doors.

“You can’t go back to your hotel.”

His voice startled her, bringing her out of a daze. “Why not?”

“It won’t take Shiel long to figure out who you are. You flashed Peter’s picture all over The Gin Room, whose primary customers are shifters. It probably would be best if you left New York. Forget what you saw here.”

Marion blinked, unable to believe what he said. “Forget? You seriously just said that?”

He sighed. “What Shiel is doing is against everything we stand for. Shifters hide in the world. Anonymity ensures our survival. Eventually, people will start questioning the disappearances and then we’re all fucked.”

“Hello, I am questioning the disappearances! Don’t tell me to back down when I just saw people being chopped up for dinner! I mean, this is straight out of a horror movie.”

“I know.”

“Shiel has to be stopped.”

“I agree.”

“I’m not going home. I can’t.”

He let out a deep breath. “Yeah. Kind of figured that. Then you’ll stay with me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Take it or leave it,” he said, resolute.

She didn’t have to think too hard. “Take it. But I won’t be mollycoddled. I need to find Peter or at least find out his fate. Understood?”

“Understood.”

They fell silent again, and she was glad. It gave her time to properly process everything, to come up with a plan. It was dusk when they finally hit the edge of New York City, and of course, they got stuck in traffic. Lots and lots of traffic.

Deacon winced and placed a hand on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve been away from my labyrinth too long.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Can you get these cars out of the way?”

“I wish.”

He winced again. “Okay, you’re going to take over driving.”

“What? There isn’t a shoulder to pull over on.”

“We’re doing it the old-fashioned way. I’m going to push my seat back and you’re going to slide onto my lap—”

“What part of this is old-fashioned?”

He glared. “As I was saying before you interrupted, you’re going to slide onto my lap and take the wheel, then I’ll slip over to the passenger seat.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Stop complaining.”

He reached down to the controls and slid his seat back, before waving her over. Sitting on his lap, she took over the wheel, lifting herself up a little so he could move. Luckily, it was stop and go, and it only took a minute for her to adjust her seat.

“See?” he taunted. “Easy-peasy.”

Marion rolled her eyes. Then he winced again and let out a little groan. He instructed her how to get to his penthouse, and with each mile the pallor in his face faded. He winced less and less. When she finally pulled into the underground car park, Deacon looked like his old self.

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