Only a Monster(Monsters #1)(76)

Joan’s hand curled around Nick’s neck, her thumb under his jaw. But he’d pulled a knife. It glinted in the moonlight, its tip pressed against her side. The sharp point of it hadn’t quite penetrated the thick velvet of her dress, but she could feel the pressure of it threatening.

They both breathed in and out, staring at each other. He was dressed for the gala in a beautiful black tuxedo, his clothes tailored for once to his muscled frame. His crisp white shirt made his hair look darker. His silk pocket square was a perfect thin line. He looked good.

Joan could kill him right now, she realised with a shot of horror. At the Pit, Aaron had said that you could kill someone if you took more time from them than they had left. All Joan would have to do was concentrate on one big block of time, and Nick would drop at her feet, dead.

And Nick could kill her too. All he’d have to do was thrust that knife.

Nick’s breaths sounded as loud and unsteady as Joan’s. Over his shoulder, Joan could see that frozen tableau: the unrippling river, the unmoving trees. She felt just as frozen. She and Nick were standing at the edge of a cliff. One wrong move and they’d both fall.

Nick’s knife arm felt very tense. ‘Did you get it?’ he whispered.

Joan supposed she should lie, but she shook her head.

They were as close as they’d been when they’d kissed. But where there’d been tenderness in Nick’s face in the library, now Joan could only see pain. ‘You stole time,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘You stole human life.’ In the Gilt Room, he’d told her: I only kill monsters who steal human life. His arm shifted, and Joan tightened her hand against his neck. Do it, she told herself fiercely. Take time from him. In turn, Nick’s arm tensed even more.

As he shifted position, his arm ground into the wound in Joan’s side. She flinched and gasped, and Nick’s eyes widened. The pressure vanished. ‘You’re still injured?’ he breathed.

‘What do you care?’ Joan said.

There was a shadow of agony in his eyes. ‘Would you have stolen time again if I hadn’t killed your family?’ he whispered. He sounded raw.

Joan was surprised by the question. ‘No,’ she blurted. It had been an accident the first time. She’d never wanted to hurt Mr Solt. She found herself suddenly and horribly close to tears. ‘How were you even in the nineties?’ she said thickly. ‘How can you travel in time if you’re not a monster?’

‘I’m not going to tell you that,’ he said, in the flat way that he spoke about his mission.

It felt as though they were at an impasse. They were pressed tightly against each other, neither of them moving. There was a distant shout. Then another shout—more urgent.

‘Someone’s discovered your break-in,’ Nick said.

‘I should kill you,’ Joan told him. For her family. She sounded as raw as Nick had. Do it, she told herself. Kill him.

Nick shifted again, this time careful not to jolt the sword wound. And Joan had the sudden absurd thought that if she just stood on tiptoes she could kiss him. ‘You won’t,’ he whispered, that shadow of agony still in his eyes. ‘You don’t want me dead yet. You want to kill me before I kill your family.’

There were running footsteps now, getting closer and closer. Joan and Nick stood there in that lethal embrace, tucked tight against each other.

‘Maybe I’ll kill you twice,’ Joan whispered.

Nick’s mouth lifted, wry. ‘Not even your King could manipulate the timeline as much as that.’

The footsteps drew closer. Perhaps four rooms away. Three rooms away. Nick slowly lowered the knife. For a second, they were just standing there, Joan’s hand still cupped around Nick’s neck as though she were going to kiss him, Nick’s hands loose by his sides.

Do it, Joan told herself. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. She heard herself make a helpless, pained sound.

‘Joan,’ Nick said. And the guards were coming, but he was staring down at her, intense and desperate, as if they were the only two people in the world. ‘You know this is wrong,’ he whispered. ‘Look around you. They steal from humans. That’s all they do.’

Joan shook her head.

‘Last time I saw you, you told me you’d come after me,’ he whispered. ‘That you’d try to stop me. Please, Joan. Don’t. Just stay away from me.’

Joan wanted to hold on to him. She released his neck, letting her hand drop to her side. ‘You’re a hero and I’m a monster,’ she whispered. ‘There’s only one way that story ever ends.’

Nick took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice shook. ‘I know.’

And then he slipped through the door and was gone.

Joan stumbled through the palace, trying to stay out of the way of the guards. Her body felt too alive everywhere she’d been pressed against Nick.

Without the light from Aaron’s phone, it took her ages to navigate through the chapel in the dark, and to find the hidden door behind the cabinet. She had to keep shaking off flashes of memory—how Nick had dropped his knife before she’d dropped her hand. How raw his voice had been. By the time she found the door catch, she was shaking.

Ruth was waiting for her. She grabbed Joan’s hand and pulled her through. And just in time. Another guest entered just as Joan scooted inside.