Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 046

Her best guess was that it had been some kind of music room. Other than hardwood floors and a large, broken harp, she had no idea what else it could be. This should have troubled her, but now she realized something even worse.

She had no idea who she was. Looking down, she saw that not only was she naked, but large portions of her body were covered in dark, silken fur that closely matched the color of her skin. Her belly was white, though, and she ran her fingers over it, marveling at how soft it was.

Wait, no, not completely naked. Her fingertips caught on a pair of lycra shorts that closely matched her fur. Moving back to the window, she tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection, but it was too bright outside to get a reflection off the glass.

She heard movement beneath her, and realized that the crowd of people had moved back inside of the house. Using her hands, she felt around the window, hoping to find a way to open it and climb out. There was something about the house that she didn't like, a fear response that told her to run, but the window was painted shut.

Could she break the glass? She looked at the harp. It was far too heavy for her to pick up, and even if she did break the glass, the strangers would likely come to investigate. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she moved silently across the room to the door. Fearing that it would be locked, she gave it a tug.

The door slid open, catching briefly in its frame. She stepped into the hallway, grateful that nobody was there. Moving stealthily, she saw that she was in a hallway that terminated at a door if she went straight, but turned into a flight of stairs if she went right.

A strange smell caught her nose, and she sniffed. Her eyes narrowed on a room at the end of the hallway, and she stared for several seconds, her instincts demanding that she go check it out.

Something brushed against her back and she flinched, then spun around. The hallway behind her was empty.

Something touched her again.

Spinning wildly, she caught it out of the corner of her eye. She tumbled around, both hands grabbing for it, and finally managed to catch it just as she rolled onto the floor.

"What the hell are you?" she croaked, holding the furry object in her hands. She had pinned it under her back while falling, and when she pulled on it, she felt painful pressure just above her butt.

I have a tail?!? She let go and stood up, watching the protuberance swish playfully back and forth and barely resisting the urge to grab it

What's wrong with me?

The stairs creaked, and she ducked around the corner, crouching down near the ground. A woman walked past, putting her hair up in a ponytail, and she was followed by a slightly shorter woman with a large, thick tail of her own.

No, wait. It was multiple tails. What is going on here?

She slid along the wooden floor, down the hall, ready to scramble away at a moment's notice. From the stairway, she could see the front door below, which was currently blocked by a goblin and several large rats. They weren't looking her way, so she slunk up the stairs, staying low.

The two women had gone into a room down the hall, so she moved the other direction into what appeared to be the master bedroom. It was scarcely furnished, and the bed hadn't been made.

She moved toward the dressers and opened them, hoping to find some clothing that would fit. Unfortunately, this room belonged to a man, and the clothes were far too big for her. She held a pair of his pants up, the waistline reaching above her breasts.

What about the window? She looked outside and scowled. Down below was a beautiful woman standing in a fountain. She just couldn't catch a break.

Footsteps approached, so she hopped over the bed, then slid beneath it without making a sound. Easily able to roll over, she watched a pair of legs come through the door. It was the man from outside, and he sat down on the bed, then grabbed something off the nearby nightstand.

"Let's see. New tablet, new screen protector... yes, I want the waterproof one..." He was mumbling to himself, and tapping his fingers on something up above.

"Mike?" Another pair of legs appeared. It was the woman from the stairs. "Yuki went down to the Labyrinth to fill Ratu in on the situation."

"Sounds good. Couldn't send a fairy?"

"Didn't see one. However, it looks like there's a new room down the hall from mine."

He chuckled. "How is this going to affect my home's value? I mean, I know I still have to pay taxes on this place, but at what point does somebody look and realize the number is too low? Like, I sort of get Google Earth playing catch-up on satellite photos, but is the geas paying back taxes for me, too? Like, it's one thing to alter the flow of information, but now money is just appearing if that's the case, right?"

"I'm kind of tempted to look into it, now that you brought it up. Anyway, I'm headed downstairs. Dana came in and told me that the house has some damage out back, so she's going to check it out, but Tink refused to go help her until she showed you the new rooms, so... see you soon?"

"Yeah, let me just finish ordering a new tablet for Abella. My phone just updated and now I have to put my card number in again."

"Aren't you worried she's rotting her brain with that thing?"

"Stone doesn't rot."

"Aren't you worried she's weathering her brain with that thing?"

He groaned at her pun. "Seriously, that was just gross. I'll be down in just a second."

"See you soon." The woman left, and he let out a sigh. He tapped for a little bit longer, and she wondered how long he would be up there.

She didn't have to wait long. Mike stood and something slid off the bed and onto the floor. It was a rectangular piece of metal with a cracked screen.

"Shit," he muttered, and bent down to pick it up. "At least it was already—" His bed was at just the right height that when his face appeared, his eyes darted up to meet hers.

She extended her claws and scrambled out, growling deep within her chest as her claws scratched deep grooves into the floor. Mike backpedaled, blocking off the path to the door.

"Whoa, hey, who are—" He didn't get a chance to finish, because she darted forward, her clawed fingers slashing through the air. She was fast, but he was somehow just a hair faster, managing to slash open his shirt, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Easy, easy!" He put both hands up, and she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him toward her. Even though she was much smaller than he was, she was easily able to put a lock on his wrist and twist him around, shoving him against the bed frame. He fought to remain on his feet, but she was crawling all over him now, doing her best to scratch and bite.

Buried beneath the animal instincts was an understanding of the human body, and how best to break it. She fell to the ground and hit him behind the knee, taking him down. Before he could get up, she slid one arm across his throat and used her other arm to pull it back.

He smacked at her arm, and tried to stand. She squeezed harder, knowing that the flow of blood to his brain was interrupted. How many seconds did he have left before going down? Once he went limp, should she keep squeezing, or make a run for it?

Something hard slammed into the side of her head, and she sprung free, hissing. Standing over Mike now was a goblin roughly the same size that she was.

"Tink fuck you up," the goblin swore, then ripped off her goggles and tossed them to the woman who had followed her in. Tink held up her hands and snarled, revealing razor sharp teeth.

"I'd like to see you try." she replied, her voice cracking when she spoke. She also had a slight lisp. Had she always sounded like that?

Tink was fast, but she was faster. She dodged the first couple of punches, and then deliberately took a poorly thrown one in the shoulder to get in close and smash a fist into the goblin's face.

She howled in agony, clutching her injured hand. Her whole hand throbbed, and she couldn't straighten some of her fingers.

"Goblin have hard head. Tink teach you." The goblin grabbed her by the fur around her collarbone and yanked, slamming their heads together.

The world briefly dimmed, but she wasn't out of the fight yet. Now that they were close, she grappled the goblin onto the ground, trying to twist an arm behind her back. The goblin, who was surprisingly strong, forced her way out of the hold.

She growled, and slashed out with her claws. Tink took the hit, her dress tearing in the process, then landed another punch to the face that knocked her silly.

"Stupid kitty cat. Tink beat all nine lives out of you, then make you into a rug!"

Shaking her head, she charged forward and tackled the goblin to the ground where they became a bundle of hair, teeth and nails. Shrieks of rage came from both of them, and the other woman tried to break them up, but took a nasty slash to the arm and backed away.

When Tink bit down on her tail, she twisted around and used her claws to gouge Tink in the eyes, blinding her. She used that moment to break free. With a powerful leap, she crossed over the bed and landed by the window. It slid open easily, and she scrambled onto the ledge, looking down. The fall didn't look too bad, and she could probably outrun the woman in the fountain.

So she jumped.

A powerful hand grabbed her painfully by the scruff of the neck, her legs dangling over the ground below. She squirmed, flailing her arms around wildly in an attempt to get away.

"Hey, stop, you'll fall. Hey, knock it off!" The woman who spoke to her had a slight French accent, and she was able to twist around enough to catch just a glimpse of large stone wings, followed by the concerned face of a statue.

She was being held by a gargoyle.

Adrenaline surged through her body, and she fought even harder to escape. The pain behind her neck was terrible, and she thought her skin might rip, but she had to get away.

The gargoyle sighed. "Okay, then. Whatever." The monster cocked up her spare fist and swung it, the impact immediately twisting the whole world sideways.

Darkness swallowed her whole, carrying her away on a symphony of silence.

Cecilia's cage was constructed of cold iron with silver accents. Not only were the bars close enough together that she couldn't hope to squeeze through them, but the floor was also made of cold iron. Just the act of walking across the cage would cause her pain, but luckily she had a swing to sit on. It was a simple wooden plank, attached to the ceiling by ropes. Maybe the queen had given it to her to be kind, or maybe as a depressing reminder of her time on Earth at the Radley estate.

It was always hard to tell with the faerie queen.

On Earth, she could only see vague outlines of the world, brightened by the spirits of the creatures that walked it. Here in the Otherlands, the world itself was made of magic, and she was able to view the world as it was normally seen.

The court of the faerie queen was luxurious. She had built the court into the base of a mountain, and three different streams terminated in waterfalls that fed the pool that surrounded Her Majesty's throne room. Behind the one of the falls was where servants and vassals waited until they were called. A series of stepping stones led to the central platform, and it was here that the queen sat on a solitary throne.

Today, however, court was not in session, and the only sound she heard was the steady rush of water into the pool. Her cage had been placed on a stone just behind the queen's throne. None of the other fae dared to even look Cecilia's way, terrified that some of the queen's anger might become misdirected.

She wondered how long it had been on Earth. The flow of time between the worlds was constantly shifting, and the light here was unnatural. Assuming that the faerie queen only held court once a day, then she had already been Underhill for three years. That could mean an hour in the real world, or maybe even fifty years, and she wouldn't know until she returned.

If she returned.

The chamber filled with a sense of foreboding, and the faerie queen stepped out of a ball of light appearing briefly on the other side of the room, walking slowly across the rocks on bare feet.

Golden hair cascaded down her back, tumbling around all six wings that protruded from her shoulder blades. The wings themselves were made of white light, and they blinked out of existence, transforming into a sheer, silken cloak that dragged along the ground.

"Good morning, a leanbh." The queen walked up to Cecilia's cage. "And how are you this day?"

"I am well, Your Majesty." Cecilia bowed her head in reverence.

"Oh, good. I would hate to hear that you felt otherwise." The queen tilted her head. "I do wonder though. Do you still think often of him?"

"I do, Your Majesty." Cecilia fought to keep a smile from forming at the thought of Mike. "Every moment."

"Interesting. You pine for him, though he has made no effort to come retrieve you." The queen sat on her throne, which hovered above the ground. It rotated so that she could face Cecilia. "My spies are watching him, you know. He has no interest in coming for you. I won't be cruel and tell you that he is glad you are gone, but I will say that he knows that you are here and simply can't be bothered. Knowing this, do you feel any different?"

"No, Your Majesty." It wouldn't do any good to lie, for the queen would know. "I still love him like I have loved no other."

"Clearly." The queen rose and paced outside of Cecilia's cage. "And why do you suppose that is? Is it the piece of his soul that festers inside of you? Is it the whimsy of human emotions you are ill equipped to handle? Tell me, a leanbh."

"I don't know, Your Majesty." Cecilia lowered her head. "My time with him was brief, but it has meant more to me than the entire time I have walked the world of Man. It started so simple, as a curiosity, but something happened." Even she wasn't sure what. His magic had done something to her, something that shouldn't have been possible. A piece of his soul had swapped places with her very life force. The sidhe didn't have souls in a traditional sense, which meant that Mike had unknowingly become part faerie.

It was hard to figure out which angered the queen more. The idea of a banshee falling in love with a human, or that of a human gaining access to faerie magic.

"Hmm." The queen regarded her coolly, as she did every time they had this discussion. Sometimes it was days, or even months between these chats, and the queen would occasionally pontificate for hours before getting to the point.

Cecilia held her breath, waiting for the question that was coming.

"Would you like me to fix you?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"As you wish, silly child." The queen smirked and turned her throne around. Raising her hands, she clapped twice, and the day's proceedings began with selkies flying through the waterfall and bringing the queen news of the outside world. Servants appeared, too, scurrying about as they provided refreshments for every creature, from the common brownie and the tylwyth teg to the noble families themselves. Some came for the parties, others for the political intrigue, but attendance was definitely mandatory on their part, and more than a few of them watched the proceedings with bored expressions until they could fill their bellies with wine.

Cecilia sat in her cage, her gaze on the court. The queen could fix Cecilia, and return her to her prior state. However, by doing so, Cecilia would forget everything that had transpired since her last trip here, when she had ferried Emily's soul across. She would forget about Mike, who she sincerely doubted would just sit around if he found out she was being held against her will.

The queen's other option was to simply wait until Mike died. On his death, his soul would depart, and that part of Cecilia he carried with him would return.

Cecilia dreaded this day as well. Not because it meant she would never be with Mike again. The idea of never being with Mike again broke her heart, but she was consoled by the fact that he would forever be beyond the queen's wrath.

No, what scared her was how angry the queen would be when she discovered that the tiny piece of Mike's soul had taken root, like a seed. Unlike the other girls, Cecilia's entire being was composed of Old Magic, which was little more than raw potential. It was said that nature abhors a vacuum, and the roots had spread. What had started as something else was now becoming much, much more.

Cecilia was slowly growing a soul of her own. She swung back and forth on the swing and closed her eyes, her thoughts on Mike.

"A chiste is a stór," she whispered. "O, my cherished love! Please... stay away."

Whew, a lot to unpack there! New rooms, new character, and a long awaited look at our missing banshee.

I want to take a second and say thanks to everybody here on Lit who has been with me on this journey. As a writer, I do have those rough moments where I feel like I'm no good at my craft. I think all of us feel that way from time to time, and it's definitely the readers of Lit who keep me lifted and able to keep going. It might sound strange, but I will sometimes read through comments or emails when struggling in real life, and knowing that someone out there believes in me and my abilities makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

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Take care of yourselves and each other, and I will see you next chapter!