Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(61)

“Brax, wake up.” I gripped his sweaty shoulder, shaking him.

He didn’t respond, face twisted in grief. I knew what he suffered—he told me his dreams, and all of them featured the car accident that killed his parents.

Every night I held him, gave comfort, and every morning I woke tired and drained. But I soothed him because he needed me, and by being there for him, I felt I belonged.

Brax swung wide, a punch landing on my jaw. “Ow, f*ck, Brax. Wake up!” I pinched his nose, cutting off oxygen so he’d wake, but shadows at the bottom of the bed gathered—darker, changing, growing.

My heart stopped as Brute and Driver leered above, licking their lips, cocks jutting from trousers, glistening and evil.

They’d come to finish what they started. They would kill me.

“Brax! Help!” I slapped him, but he never woke.

Brute chuckled. “He isn’t strong enough for you, treasure. I’m gonna f*ck you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” He moved fast, grabbing my ankles beneath the sheets, dragging me to the end of the bed.

I screamed.

No, this couldn’t happen. “Brax!”

He lay there, wrapped in his own misery, unaware of mine. Driver laughed, ripping off my pyjama bottoms, tossing them to the side.

My body felt weighed down, moving as if drugged. “Stop. Fucking stop!”

They just laughed.

I wished I were dead, tears leaking. Another shadow crystallized behind Brute and Driver, flocking into being with raven wingbeats and murder. But instead of instilling fear, hope starburst through me.

Master.

Q stood, staring at me with unbridled rage and transcendent power. Time slowed as he pulled free a silver gun and shot Brute, then Driver with sharp-edged finesse. Red rain splattered, but I didn’t care. I crawled toward shadowy Q, climbing over corpses, focused only on my owner.

“You saved me.”

His smile sent a melody of feeling through me. “You’re mine. It’s my honour to protect you.” He gathered me closer and shadows kissed with icy teeth. “Je reviendrai toujours pour toi.” I’ll always come for you….




I woke in a room of luxury. The mattress cradled like fluffy clouds, and stencils of carousels made me feel young, fanciful. Not like a slave who’d been f*cked by two different men last night, then put to bed like a naughty girl because I wouldn’t tell Q my name.

A knock sounded and I scrambled upright, wincing at the lashes on my legs. I checked during the night to see how torn and bruised I was, but Q and his attentiveness halted the injuries. They looked ten times better already, but I couldn’t wait for them to be gone. Each welt reminded me of Brute and Driver, Q committing murder, every nasty little thing of running away.

Q was right, though. By f*cking me, he overshadowed Brute completely. The fear and crippling memories were there, but every time recollections tried to suck me dry, Q would be there. Touching, kissing, ordering me to only think about him. He stopped my sadness and grief, tinging it with lust and acceptance.

Q stole their power, freeing me by f*cking me.

The knock came again and the door opened, without waiting for my reply.

Suzette bustled in with a breakfast tray full of homemade jam and warm croissants. She smiled, placing it on my lap. “Bonjour, Ami.”

I blinked with how happy she was. Hazel eyes sparkled and dusky skin positively glowed.

I narrowed my eyes, female intuition said why she couldn’t stop grinning. “You know he took me last night, don’t you?” It was strange to be so open, but she couldn’t hide her gloat. She’d been waiting for this day for longer than I wanted to contemplate.

She nodded, perching on the end of the bed. “Yes. But mostly I’m glad to see you in one piece.” She dropped her eyes, plucking her pinafore. “Running away was so stupid. I could’ve warned you about some of the locals around here. Franco isn’t a guard to keep you in. He’s a guard to protect us from them.”

I stopped mid-bite of a croissant. “What do you mean?”

She sighed and glanced toward the door, as if expecting Q to storm through at any moment. Before she could speak, I asked another question. “Were you Q’s slave, too, Suzette?”

She froze.

I didn’t really expect her to answer. My eyes widened when she said, “Q set me free when I was sold to him. I’ll always love him for that.” She bit her lip, before adding, “Q has never taken me, not for my lack of trying. When I arrived, I was broken beyond repair. I had things done to me that I can’t even think about, let alone talk about, but Q… Q brought me back to life.”

I pushed the tray away, breakfast forgotten. Would I finally learn about my mysterious owner? “How did he bring you back to life?”

She looked up, eyes glittering with tears and memories. “He gave me freedom. Gave me everything I needed to get well again. For a year, he put up with me bowing and crawling, until he finally managed to get me to stand. But it took him another year to get me to open, to talk when I wanted, not just when I was asked a question. He slowly broke the brokenness in me.”

She gripped my hand, squeezing fingers hard. “You don’t get it, Ami. And you won’t until he tells you himself, but he’s the best man I know. Out of all of us, he’s the one who’s ruined. I’ve never been able to help him. For five years, I’ve worked for him, never left his side, but nothing I’ve tried works.”