Moth Wanted (Monsters In the Bed #1) Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Monsters In the Bed Series by Loki Renard
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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“You know you’re not in trouble, right?” she says. “I mean, he wasn’t a person. There are no laws against killing an animal, which for all intents and purposes, that’s what he was.”

“Was he?”

“I mean, lawyers will argue it back and forth, but he wasn’t a person.”

He was a person to Justice, though. He was a brother. He was someone Justice was trying to protect. It’s not human law I am worried about. It’s natural law. Specifically, Order and Justice.

“I’m taking you to my place tonight,” she says. “I don’t like the way you look, and I don’t think hanging out at the station is going to be any good for you, either.”

“Okay.”

Usually I’d argue, but I don’t feel like arguing right now. I feel like being somewhere I don’t have to be myself, because what myself did today has probably shattered anything that might ever have happened between Justice and me. I have betrayed Justice. I can pretend I didn’t, but I did.

“Let’s go.”

I’m at Tessie’s apartment. She also has a small place, but hers is more traditionally appointed. It has a functioning kitchen, for starters. She’s making something in it while I stare at my phone. I’m not looking at anything in particular. I’m just looking in general.

“He’s going to hate me.”

“Who?” She frowns. “Chief’s going to love you. He might not ever really know why, but he will be glad a murderer is off the street.”

“Justice.”

“Oh. The moth. Yeah. He might not be a fan. I think you should lay low for a while. Take some leave. You’re not okay, Sally.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“See. That’s how bad you are. I just called you Sally and you didn’t even freak out on me.”

Huh. Guess I didn’t.

8

I’m in a state of something like shock for about a week before I start to feel myself again, before the oddness and the guilt begin to be absorbed by everyday life. Obviously, the murders stop. There aren’t too many questions asked. The proximity of the death of Officer Peterson to the end of the serial killer’s reign of terror is not thought to be of any significance.

Officially, the murders remain open cases. Unofficially, everybody knows that one of us took matters into their own hands and nobody is going to say a fucking thing about it. The Chief gives me a nod and a smile on my way into work most days now, which is about as explicit a sign as possible that he knows.

After seven days of something like mourning, but more like freaking out, I decide it’s time to get back to normal. I can’t stay at Tessie’s forever. I have to reclaim my life.

It feels good to be back among my things, surrounded by my stories. Even if I don’t open the books, they feel like armor. It is a pleasure unlike any other to take one of them and crawl into bed, losing myself in the troubles of another person who will be scared and then brave and then lose and then win.

Engrossed in a story, I’ve almost forgotten about my heinous actions when a sudden pounding at my front door makes me jump. It’s not the sound of knocking. It’s the sound of the latch being forced open. In an instant, I am regretting ever having come back here. I should have moved. I should have left the fucking city.

I find myself breathing very shallowly and pressing hard up against the mattress, trying to flatten myself as the door clicks open, and a tall figure stoops under the frame.

Motherfucker. I forgot Justice had broken in here before. I stay still. I guess at this point, I’m going to have to pretend I am asleep. Hopefully he spontaneously develops some awareness of how rude he is being and leaves.

Nope.

“There you are!” Justice exclaims loudly, as if he has some kind of right to wake me the fuck up in my own apartment. I’m glad he’s being an asshole. That’s going to make this easier for both of us.

I open my eyes. He is standing over me, bright red eyes flaring with emotion, shirtless torso and all four arms rippling with irritated muscularity. In my guilt, I had forgotten how hot he was.

“I have been looking for you everywhere! I thought you were dead! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

I’m only just hearing the lecture through an absolute whirlwind of shame.

“I can take care of myself,” I tell him. “I don’t need you hovering about, breaking into my apartment.”

“What?” He seems confused. “You left my place a week ago, and I haven’t seen you since. I also haven’t seen Rage. What happened?”

Shit. He’s put two and two together.

I get up out of bed and walk to my front door. He follows me out into the hall, at which point I dart back inside and close the door on him.


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