Twilight Terrors (To Kill A Nightmare, #2)

by Rory Miles

“I’m so sick and tired”—she lets her hands drop to her sides, fingers splayed wide, palms toward Bastian—“of men implying we are children throwing a tantrum when we’re pissed off”—she slowly lifts her palms, fingers curling and flexing—“to try to discredit us.”

“So long as you’re in it, I’m happy to share the bed with Valen.” “Well, that’s rude. You wouldn’t sleep with me without Greer present?” Valen asks as the doors close. “I mean, you haven’t even taken me on a date, Valen. I require a little romancing before you get into my bed.” Dane huffs and leans against the side wall.

“Yeah.” I force my body to relax. It’s not that I didn’t want Valen to touch me like that; it was unexpected. “Goodnight, slay bae.” “Slay bae?” The quiet horror in Valen’s voice is crystal clear. I smile a little, but my exhaustion pulls me under before I can explain the nickname.

He brings my hand up and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “We,” he tips his head toward Dane to include the shifter, “want every part of you. We want the Greer who screams about spiders. We want the Greer who cries during movies. We want the Greer who stabs demons and protects the world. We want the Greer no one else has ever met, because she’s ours. All we want is to be with Greer.” Valen squeezes my hand. “She’s safe with us.” An eyelash falls in my eye and moisture blurs my vision. Stupid fucking eyelashes. I struggle to breathe, body and face growing hot the longer my throat is blocked by some stupid emotion clogging my airways. “It’s okay to cry, killer.” Dane is suddenly there, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’m—” He clears his throat to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Greer. It’s just, you looked like you wanted to murder me and give my corpse to zombie puppies.” “Zombie puppies?” I wrinkle my nose. “What kind of monster turns puppies into zombies?” “Well, theoretically, if there were a zombie apocalypse, the puppies would be turned as well.” He pauses to think. “And the kittens.” “You’re demented,” I mutter, my lips kicking into a smile. “What sort of asshole thinks about shit like that?” “Aw, there she is.” He reaches across the seat and boops my nose.

He gives me a look but grabs the bottle. “I’m worried you might poison me.” Ignoring my hand, he steps closer, his arm brushing against mine as he pours himself the drink. “Don’t worry. That comes at the wedding. More fanfare when you collapse at the altar.” I smirk at him over the rim of my glass. “You’re awful.” He side-eyes me. “I like it.”

“Nothing to you, but he’d have no problem calling me a whore.” Valen pulls back and stares down at me. I shiver at the fire in his eyes. “He won’t call you a whore unless he wants his tongue cut out.” “That’s the councilor you’re talking about.” I run my palms over his abs. “I like this growly, protective side of you.” He smirks and thrusts into me, shocking a yelp out of me. “I like all sides of you, but I especially like when you’re whimpering beneath me.”

“They’ll know.” “So?” His eyes glint with challenge. Let them realize I fucked you before dinner, the look says. I can’t help but laugh. “Thank gods you’re so different than I thought you were.” “Same can be said for you.” Tightening his grip on my hand, he turns and pulls me from the room. “Come along, wife.” “That’s fiancée, to you,” I snark, quickening my pace to keep from falling. And just like that, I begin to fall for Valen.

I smile. “Yes, Mum. That’s Greer.” Greer’s eyes go as round as saucers, sheer panic taking over her face. It’s adorable. “May I talk to her?” My mum’s voice is hesitant, but I can tell how much speaking to the woman I’m supposed to marry would mean to her. I know she’s been worried I’ll end up as unhappy as her. I won’t, though. I know that now. “She wants to talk to you.” I arch an eyebrow at my fiancée, who looks far more nervous at the prospect of chatting with my mum than she ever does fighting demons. “Are you comfortable with that?” As much as I love my mum, I don’t want to make Greer uncomfortable.

My heart grows heavier with each step I take away from Greer, but I can’t bear to see the concern in her gaze as she tries to lure me into conversation. I can’t handle the caring way she’d reach over and squeeze my arm. It’s odd, isn’t it? The very thing I want and need right now, love and affection, is the one thing I can’t handle. Maybe one day, I’ll be a better man.

“And for the love of the goddess.” She pins me in place with her stare. “Do not stab him.” Dane snickers at that, but I only feel confusion. “Um, stab who? You’re going to need to be more specific. There are a lot of people I want to stab on a regular basis.” “You’ll know. Pull your punch, Greer.” Her lips quirk up in a wry smile. “Or your stab, as the case may be.”

Valen appears at my side. “Everything okay?” There’s an unasked question chasing his words. Should I stab him? Knowing that Valen would if I asked him to makes me smile a little.

“This porridge is too cold,” he says in a soft, feminine tone. I drop my eyebrows and squint. “It’s rude as hell to quote Goldilocks to a bear.” Valen winces. “Sorry. I didn’t know.” “Fuck that little blonde bitch,” I say with a gruff growl. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or . . .” He trails off when I start cackling. “You’re a dick.” “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Please don’t let me die before I have the chance to be spit-roasted by my mate and my fiancé,” I whisper to any god or goddess that may be listening. And then I skulk cautiously through the portal.

“Greer?” His voice is quiet when I climb out of the bed and pad over to the light switch to turn it off. “Hmm?” “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone in the dark.” Oh. Oh, Bastian. “Never,” I murmur as I climb back into my bed, slide under the covers, and carefully snuggle into his side, taking care not to put pressure on any of his bruises. “You’ll never be alone in the dark again.”

“You two getting along. Stop it.” “I’m sorry.” Valen holds up his hand and clears his throat. “You want us to go back to finding each other mildly annoying?” “I was going to say immensely annoying, but I fear my feelings weren’t reciprocated.” Dane sighs in disappointment. “Fuck you,” Valen tosses out casually. “Mmm. I’d love to, but I’m actually spoken for.” Dane gestures to me. “She’s my mate,” he whispers like this is breaking news. They begin laughing again.

“So, the nightmares,” I say, bringing us back to the point. “They haven’t come back?” “Not here.” Mason finishes, and we grab the side panels next. “They’re out there, though. If Lucy’s seen it, it’s happened.” I simply nod, because who am I to question the all-knowing insight of a six-year-old?

I don’t mind sharing, but he’s really too small to fit into my stuff, and Valen’s are a little too tight. Maybe now he’ll have some that fit just right. “Fucking Goldilocks,” I grumble, hating that I’m thinking in nursery rhyme. “I’m a little concerned with how much you despise a fictional character.” Valen stretches his arms over his head. “Really? Because I’m not. She’s a thief and a liar. What’s there to like?” Valen arches an imperious eyebrow. “For starters, do you know her backstory? No. All we get is that one day she wandered in. What if her family was starving her? Did you ever think of that?”

“One, I don’t like that you’re insinuating that bears are bad. Two, she’s still unlikeable. She broke nearly everything she touched. She didn’t even wash the dishes. Maybe if her parents had done a better job of raising her, she wouldn’t have been such an asshole.” I huff and shake my head. “You know what? Never mind.” “You sure? It kind of seems like you have a lot to say on the matter.” Valen’s lips twitch. “Are you laughing at me?” “For sure,” he says with a chuckle.

“Supposedly, she never broke into another home again, but I don’t think you can trust narrators. They’re biased, like you are. It’s because she’s blonde, isn’t it?” “What?” Valen full out laughs now. “Of course not. I’m only asking you to think about what would have motivated her. There’s more to the story.” “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about that little asshole. If she broke into my house, I’d eat her.”

I can see why the pups might be worried; I really hate Goldilocks, and she’s a kid. “She broke into a bear’s house,” I mumble in my defense. “Riiiiight.” Mason glances back at the kids, a few of whom are staring at us with wide eyes. “Listen, I appreciate your help, but maybe you should take this fascinating yet strange debate to your house. I’m sure your mate will love it.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t really eat a kid,” I call to the wolves still watching us. Their eyes go even rounder, and they run under the playground in an attempt to hide from me. “I’d slay him before he could eat you,” Valen says to them. “Jesus Christ. All right, that’s it. Goodbye.”

“You’re comfortable?” Dane cuts in with a pointed look. Valen’s cheeks turn a little pink, and he smartly agrees with Dane. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m used to dinner at a table.” “Well, this is how we American heathens do it, Mr. Kent.”

“I want to spend as much time with my gorgeous lover here as possible.” He kisses my temple, still not looking at the receptionist. “She owns my fucking soul.” The best part? He means it. I can feel the sincerity of his words ringing through our bond. Fuck, I love this man.

“Now, now, killer,” Dane croons in my ear, just loud enough for the receptionist to hear. “We don’t murder people for looking at our lovers.”

“I bet that large man would enjoy a good tickle with a purple pecker.” Bastian watches Crash walk away with a thoughtful expression before turning to Rippley. “I’m happy to provide you with one whenever the two of you are ready to consummate your relationship.”

“Lover,” Bastian corrects. “Devoted companion. Killer of all who displease Greer.” “We really need to work on your intro,” Valen mumbles. “He’s harmless. Mostly.” “That’s not what you said when the pecker came out,” Bastian says smoothly.

“You’re incorrigible. If and when I decide to sleep with Crash, I’ll figure out how to lure him home.” “You make it sound like you’re going to kill him,” Valen murmurs. “Maybe I will.” Rippley tosses her head back and releases a witchy cackle. “You’re bananas, but I love it.”