The Last of the Monsters (6 page)

Akta went to the kitchen and brought back a decanter of wine. Henry picked up his glass and finished it in one long swallow, then let her refill it.

“Thank you for telling me,” Akta said.

“I’m sorry I was acting the way I was. I didn’t realize it would make you distrust me to the point you’d think I betrayed us.”

“I didn’t want it to be true, and I didn’t really think it was, but you’ve been acting weird lately, even for you.”

Akta ignored his disgruntled look.

“It’s been harder and harder to hide what I feel for you, what I feel when I touch you, as we film.”

“That makes sense.”

“Akta?”

“Yes?”

“Will you forgive me, for being a…a jerk?”

She smiled and Henry had to start doing mental math. Her smile was like nothing else—it lit up her beautiful face. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, toying with it, and not for the first time Henry had to squelch the image of that long hair flowing over his naked body.

“Of course I’ll forgive you. And I won’t tell anyone.”

Henry grimaced. “I knew when I told you the others would find out. I’ll deal with it.”

The teasing from Luke, Runako, Michael and probably even Seling would be heinous.

“I’m serious. You trusted me with your secret and I won’t tell anyone.”

He read the sincerity on her face. “Thank you, Akta.”

Raising her glass, she clinked it with his. They settled back onto the couch and chair. Since coming to LA, Henry couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he’d sat in this room. Akta’s house felt as much like home as the condo, and maybe even a little more so.

The silence was easy, companionable, at least at first.

Little by little a strange tension crept into the air. Henry couldn’t figure out why his shoulder muscles were bunched. He snuck a glance at Akta, only for her to look away, seemingly trying to pretend she hadn’t just been looking at him.

There is nothing standing in our way.

As soon as that thought zinged through Henry’s mind, he understood the tension. Akta knew his secret—she knew that as a monster his arousal would betray itself on his skin, and that as both a monster and as a human he was a virgin. At the beginning of the conversation they’d acknowledged that they wanted each other and, now, here they were, two consenting adults, with nothing standing in their way.

He felt Akta look at him and swallowed hard. She untucked her legs from the chair and leaned toward him. Her fingers brushed his arm.

Henry leapt from the couch. Even as a human, his skin was responding—he could feel himself blushing.

“Henry?”

“Would you…would you like to go out for coffee?”

Akta bit her lip, but the smile was still there in her eyes. “Yes, I would like to go out to coffee.”

Henry ran his hands through his hair. “Yes, okay, great. It’s a…”

Akta stopped trying to hide her smile. Grinning, she said, “It’s a date.”

Chapter Five

“Do your people date?” Oren asked as Henry let him into the condo.

Henry’s eye twitched at the mention of the word
date
. He closed the door.

After asking Akta out, it seemed that all anyone wanted to talk about was dates. It was like the universe was conspiring to make him as nervous as possible about going out for coffee.

Even Maeve had a date tonight with Oren, the movie editor.

“No,” Henry told the human, “but she knows what dating is. At least, I think she does. She might have a date mixed up with going to prom—she watched chick flicks all last night.”

As if hearing people talk about dating wasn’t enough, Maeve, who was staying in the condo with Henry, had insisted on watching all these romantic movies in preparation for her date.

He and Oren made small talk while Maeve finished getting dressed.
 

“You don’t like humans?” Oren asked in a seemingly casual way.

“I like humans and humanity,” Henry said, hating himself for being blind to what his self-protective actions had made others think of him. After revealing his secret to Akta, Henry had been painfully aware of how much attitude he’d been throwing around in his effort to protect himself. “But I think that relationships between humans and monsters are doomed to fail.” He didn’t really think that—Michael, Luke and Runako were all happy with their human mates—but Oren was in way over his head. Maeve was something else, and from the gooey look on the other man’s face, Henry had a bad feeling Oren was falling for the Seer. That couldn’t end well.

“Why?” Oren demanded.

“Because while we may be able to fit into the human world, humans will never really fit into our world.” Technically, also true—the furniture in his house would be the wrong size for Akta. And why was he thinking about that?

“Shut up, Henry!” Maeve yelled from the other room. She started cursing at him in the old tongue.

Henry folded his arms. This was the thanks he got for trying to warn Oren?

When Maeve emerged, there was no doubt Oren was half in love with her. His whole face changed. Henry had to wonder if the other man knew that his feelings, his thoughts, were right there on the surface for anyone to see.

“Took you long enough,” Henry muttered, uncomfortable with the way Maeve and Oren were staring at each other. Maeve grabbed for him, but he danced back. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Uh, these are for you.” Oren gave Maeve the flowers he’d brought.

“Thank you. No one has ever given me flowers before.”

“Then they’re all fools,” Oren said.

Henry left the room in disgust. Sitting on his bed, he waited for them to leave. He found sentimental gestures…annoying.

Akta was soft and romantic. She was the first one among them to think that Luke and Lena’s love was a good thing instead of a stupid mistake. She would want things like flowers and chocolates and those giant teddy bears. She deserved them, and yet Henry wasn’t sure he had it in him to play that game. It was as if since he hadn’t learned to be romantic when he was younger, the skill was forever lost to him.

Covering his face with his hands, he lay back as, in the distance, he heard the condo door closing behind Maeve and Oren. Maeve, who was admittedly odd, seemed to have no problem enjoying this human notion of love. Why couldn’t he?

When they’d first arrived in LA, he, Luke and Michael had known very little about what it truly meant to live as humans. Though they’d seen plenty of movies, they hadn’t know how to dress, where to go and what to say. They’d relied on magazines—primarily
GQ
—to guide them.

He was an unromantic virgin monster. If he was going to have any chance of wooing Akta, he was going to need to do some research.

Henry stood back, examining his work.

The floor of his bedroom was strewn with bits of glossy paper and the surface of his bed was littered with the mangled remains of many magazines. It was the middle of the night, but he was finally done with his research project.

After a quick trip to the store, he’d come back armed with not only the gentlemen’s magazines he remembered using when they got to LA, but a whole stack of women’s magazines. He’d picked up anything that had the word
romance
or
love
on the cover.

After flipping through and speed-reading the relevant articles and ads, he’d pulled out the ones he found least objectionable. Piece by piece, he’d taped them to the wall—a trick he’d learned from watching too many cop dramas—creating a map of sorts. He had a section for activities, another on the human female psyche, a third on sex and finally a lone piece on the center.

Though he found most of the things he’d pulled out to be at best trite and at worst stupid, there was one article that had struck him. Titled “Deciding to be in Love”, it was written by a man who, like Henry, found romance and dating stupid and so didn’t play “the game”. Eventually the man realized he was missing out on companionship, so he gave himself permission to be in love, gave himself permission to play the game. When he did, he realized that all the things that he thought made dating stupid were just little rituals and customs that made getting to know the other person easier.

Henry knew he shouldn’t be taking advice from a magazine article, but this one had really thrown him for a loop. What would happen if he gave himself permission to be with Akta? If he gave himself permission to be vulnerable and open with her, no matter how frightening that seemed?

Sitting down on the bed, he rubbed his tired eyes, grimacing as the paper crinkled under his ass. He needed to clean up and get some sleep. As he scooped the last of the paper bits into the garbage can, the phone rang.

Henry looked at the phone and a cold feeling slithered through him.

“Hello.”

“They’re here.” Luke’s voice was grim.

“Who?” Henry asked, but he had a bad feeling he knew.

“Blackwolf—at least, that’s what we think.”

“Where?”

“The set. Cali and Seling are there. We can’t reach them by phone.”

“Shit. How far away are you?”

“Tokaki, Runako and Michael are already on their way.” Luke paused, then said. “Henry, Maeve was keening.”

As a banshee, Maeve could see both the future and the past. When someone she was close to was about to die, she knew, and she would keen—the sound humans called the banshee’s wail.

“For Seling?” Henry whispered.

“Yes.”

Seling was dying, or dead.

A feeling of clarity settled over Henry. If Blackwolf had tracked them down in LA, it was over—they’d lost. Their secret had been exposed, now their enemies were here. If not tonight, then in the next few days they would die or be forced to leave, go back to the Clan and hide, or prepare the rest of the monsters for the coming war.

“Goodbye,” Henry said to his friend as he hung up the phone.

He should go to the set, he should help fight off Blackwolf, he should be with his friends and brothers at the end.

He looked at the wall, at the record of human customs and traditions surrounding what they called love. In that moment, Henry knew that what was up there wasn’t love. Love was something deeper, something more primal.

Love was the emotion that drove him to, when faced with the end, seek out the one person he cared about most.

Henry ran for the balcony, stripping as he went. By the time he was outside, he’d changed from a human man to an ink-black monster with red wings.

He flew low, fast and hard, not bothering to go high enough to hide himself in the clouds. None of that mattered anymore. The only thing he cared about was getting to Akta.

In less than five minutes, he careened to a halt in her backyard. He knew that inside her alarm would be beeping, signaling that something large was moving around outside. The light in Akta’s bedroom clicked on.

Henry went to the patio door and looked up at the small security camera mounted on the corner of the house. A second later, the living room light clicked on.

“Henry?” Akta was wearing a soft robe, her hair in a loose braid over her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

Bowing his head, he changed, shifting from monster to man. The emotions inside him were still bubbling hot, but now he wouldn’t scare her with his black skin and red eyes. “No, it’s not. Open the door.”

Akta went to a panel on the wall and disengaged the security system before sliding the door open. Naked, he stepped into her living room.

Her eyes were wide and dark in the dim light. Her lips were soft and full. “Henry, what is it?”

“I didn’t want it to end before I had a chance to do this.”

Henry grabbed Akta and kissed her.

She gasped just before his lips closed over hers.

This kiss wasn’t like the performance they’d been putting on for the camera. This was just between them, a way for him to show her what he felt.

Akta’s arms twined around his neck and her whole body went soft. She seemed to flow against him as if they were made for one another. He tentatively cupped her ribs, and when she made a happy little sound, he slid his hands around her back, holding her against him.

She pulled back, and they were so close he could see every eyelash. She had pretty eyelashes.

“Henry.” Her fingertips stroked his face, tracing the line of his eyebrow, then his cheekbone. “Why now?”

With a start, he remembered why he’d come, remembered that this was it, that this was the end for them. Over before it began.

Before he could explain, someone hammered at the door.

Henry pushed her towards the hall, whispering. “Get in the bathroom. Lock the door.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“Akta, wake up!” Lena demanded. “Turn off the alarm!”

Henry didn’t trust the voice. Motioning Akta to safety, he crept toward the door. Through the peephole, he could see Lena, Margo and Jane standing on the front porch.

“Lena,” Henry said, “are you alone?”