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Chapter One

Draven

"Whatareyoudoing?"

"Jesus, Ma!" I growl, spinning around with a hand over my heart to glower at my mother. Or at the shape of her anyway. "You're going to give a monster a heart attack sneaking up on me like that."

"I didn'tsneakanywhere, Draven Asher Woodburn," she says, giving me that tone. I can't see her. It's midday, and I'm day-blind thanks to the accident that turned me into a goddamn walking, talking seven-foot-tall freakshow, complete with steel blue hair, horns, and a tail. But I was a normal kid once. It might have been twenty years ago, but no former hell-raising child ever forgets that tone or the stance that comes with it. You know, hands on hips, lips pursed, hellfire in their eyes? Yeah, that one. "Maybe you would have heard me coming if you didn't have your head hanging so far out the window you were in danger of falling out."

"I was not in danger of falling out," I protest.

She snorts, her disbelief patently obvious.

I choose to ignore her…mostly because she's right. Not that I'm telling her that. Turnabout is fair play, after all. She hired a maid without telling me. According to her, she's old and feeble and needs help keeping our ancestral home in Screaming Woods in order. Granted, the place is massive and isolated from the rest of the sleepy little town once known as Stream in the Woods, and Ma's back has been acting up, but she hasn't been feeble a day in her life. She's up to something, and I'd very much like to know what.

Whatever it is, I suspect it has everything to do with the woman who invaded our home two days ago.Dahlia Savage. She smells like jasmine and sounds like sunshine. And she mutters to herself while she works. I've caught nothing more than glimpses of her over the past two days—by default, of course—yet I find her fascinating. It's been a long time since we welcomed a stranger into our home.

When you tower over everyone else, it's hard to hide the fact that you aren't fucking normal. Hiding horns isn't easy, either. And a tail? Have you ever tried stuffing one of those motherfuckers down a pair of slacks? It's uncomfortable as fuck. The damn thing trails along behind me like…well, forget it. The point is, I stopped spending time around people when people started noticing that I wasn't just a cute little kid in a costume.

Now, Dahlia is here, and I desperately want toseeher. But, as I said, I'm partially blind. Twenty years ago, Dr. Karloff unintentionally poisoned the punch at our Halloween party. It was a horrific accident, but the consequences were fucking tragic. Overnight, the brew transformed us from ordinary people into waking nightmares. Our town is full of orcs and ogres, zombies, and invisible men. I was only nine when I drank the punch, dressed for Halloween as a little devil beast. When the horns and tail sprouted, my ability to see more than shapes and shadows in the daylight disappeared. My night vision sharpened. I live in darkness now; my world narrowed to the hours between dusk and dawn.

Fitting for a monster, I suppose.

"You should stop gawping at her from the shadows and introduce yourself, Draven," Ma chastises. "You can't hide from her forever. She lives here now."

"No," I growl, stomping toward my desk. It's precisely four steps from the window. I reach for the inky shadow of the chair, clutching my hand around it to pull it toward me. "I have work to do. Maybe another time."

Despite my limitations, I'm a successful video game developer. I've made millions of crafting games that view the world differently. They're wildly successful. By proxy, so am I. My agent handles the paperwork and any in-person meetings. He's worth his weight in gold. Because of his work, as far as the world knows, I'm just a reclusive millionaire who vociferously guards his privacy.

"Draven," Ma sighs. "Be reasonable."

"I'm being perfectly reasonable. You hired her. You deal with her." Even to myself, I sound like a sullen ass, but it's too late to call the words back now. Besides, the poor girl has no idea what she's even gotten herself into out here! As far as Ma is concerned, there isn't anything out of the ordinary about me except that I avoid people like the plague.

Most of the townspeople fled after the accident, leaving Screaming Woods to the monsters anyway. But recently, people have slowly started trickling back in. We're prime real estate, a beautiful little hamlet with far too much to offer to let a few little ole monsters stand in the way of progress.

It's all fun and games until someone ends up sold to science.

"I'll do no such thing," Ma says.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I'll do no such thing, Draven. From now on, she'll take her orders from you, or she won't get them at all," Ma sniffs.

Ah, dammit all to hell; now I know I messed up. Because Ma's feathers are ruffled, and she's talking crazy. I can't give Dahlia orders. She'll run screaming into the night as soon as she sees me. I mean, as far as monsters go, I'm not hideous. My home gym gets plenty of use, and it shows. But there is no hiding that I'm more beast than man.

Please scrub the floors; they look a little dull. I promise not to eat you unless you want me to, sweet thing.It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, now does it?

Fuck me. Eat her? Who said anything about eating her?

Your cock, a little voice whispers.You know you've been thinking about it.

The little voice isn't wrong, dammit. Isn't that why I've been skulking around, trying to catch a glimpse of her? Listening to her? Trying to get another whiff of her intoxicating scent? Because she makes my fucking cockache? I don't even know what she looks like, but I'm…attracted to her. Captivated by her. Fascinated with her.

She's an enchanting, no-nonsense woman who mutters and grumbles as much as she laughs to herself and sings off-key while she works. I desperately want to know what she's saying. But I want to keep her around, not send her running for safety.

"I'm not giving her orders, Ma," I growl.Not unless I'm ordering her to ride my cock until she's screaming my name.I don't say that part out loud. Obviously. Ma and I may be close, but we aren't that close.

"Fine, then she'll just wander the house, lost, opening random doors, stumbling into random rooms," Ma singsongs, her voice fading. "You know this house is a maze. Who knows what she'll get into? If you don't want her touching any of your precious things, you'll just have to give her instructions yourself. God knows, you never let me go near any of it."


Tags: Fern Fraser Paranormal