The Great and Terrible: No Monsters Like Hers
The Great and Terrible: Chapter 10

I stood beside Jasher at the top of a wooded hill roughly a mile from Dead Man’s Pass, with a sleeping Nugget nestled in the T-shirt sling. The village was not what I’d expected. A cluster of cabins and shops reminded me of old Wild West towns I’d seen in movies. Set in a clearing, this one boasted a single dirt road and multiple posts for tying horses. Women dressed in plain shirts and leather pants were scattered in groups, all rushing for the same building. Excitement filled the air. There wasn’t a man in sight.

“You’re going to cause a stir,” I stated, wondering what was going on down there.

“I always do,” Jasher replied, the first words he’d spoken in forever. After telling me our destination, he’d clammed up.

As promised, we had reached our destination before dark. Just barely, but there was still enough light to read the signs staked along the road. Most said:

Others boasted:

LEONA FOR MAYOR!

Only, on every placard, someone had added the word DON’T before “Vote” and painted a strike through the name, replacing it with LIAR or CHEATER.

Other signs read:

VISITORS PAST 10 9 8 O’CLOCK WILL BE SHOT!

“Is it eight?” I asked. Since my arrival in Hakeldama, I’d entertained little awareness of the time.

“Several minutes past.”

Dang. “Are we camping on the hill and hitting the town in the morning then?” That must be the reason we hadn’t made our way down.

“I’m not a visitor but an invited guest. I pass through often.”

Excellent news. “So what’s the hold up?” I double checked the safety of the plan via my new telltale alert. No burn in my finger, so no danger. Thank goodness! I longed for a good meal along with that bath we agreed I needed and a soft bed. A notepad and pencil, too. Basically any comfort of home.

“We must first discuss our sleeping arrangement.”

But I’d assumed… “Considering I have no silvers, I’ll need to bunk with you.” If nothing else, I trusted him to behave.

“I’ll pay for you to have a room of your own.”

Such generosity. The affection I’d experienced for him flourished anew, as sweet as honey. “I appreciate that, Jasher. Truly.”

“You’ll pay me back, of course,” he added. “With interest.”

Wariness pulled an invisible rug out from under my feet. Okay, this was more expected. He could have premeditated an unnecessary trip to town to get me indebted to him.

Oh, I didn’t believe he had designs on my body. Though, yes, we’d shared a couple electric moments. But. This was Jasher. The Tinman in the flesh. He wouldn’t know an emotion if it slapped his butt with butter and called him a biscuit.

I studied his expressionless profile. “What’s your interest rate?” No way I would walk into an agreement without all the facts. Not again. “For that matter, what do you expect as payment?” I’d already agreed to give him the compass.

“I expect information and honesty. I’ll ask questions, and you’ll answer without delay.”

Okay. All right. That, I could do. Mostly. “What happens if the inn has only one room? Can we agree you’ll answer my questions too?”

“They’ll have two rooms. They always do.”

“Uh, I think you just guaranteed they’ll only have one.” That was how it worked in books and movies. Well, if we were part of a rom-com. Which we weren’t. More like a horror movie or disaster film. Still! There’d be only one room; I’d put good money on it. Well, not my money, considering I had none, but definitely Jasher’s.

“That makes no sense,” he scoffed. “They’ll either have two rooms or they won’t, and nothing I’ve said can change that fact.”

“But if I’m right and there’s only one room, you will answer my questions.” Silence met my request/command. “Imma need you to verbalize your agreement, Jashy bear.”

“Fine,” he huffed, then descended the hill at last. He called, “Jashy bear?”

A puff of air parted my lips. Victory! With Nugget tucked safe and warm against me, I followed my guide. “Because you just get sweeter.”

“I am not sweet,” he said with a growl, waking Nugget.

The rabdog didn’t get protective, as usual, but squirmed for freedom, which I gave him. Jasher sighed and paused, waiting with me as my fur baby found the perfect spot to do his business.

“Good boy,” I praised upon his return. He sat at my feet, adoration glittering in his dark eyes. Wagging his tail, he licked his chompers. “Is my perfect sweetie hungry?”

“Your perfect sweetie is always hungry,” Jasher mumbled.

I stretched out a hand, “requesting” food.

With a weightier sigh, he dug into the pack and withdrew a large chunk of dried meat. As usual, he passed it to me not the rabdog. I crouched intending to tear it into manageable bits, but he snatched it. Huh. My brow furrowed as I watched him chow down with those long, sharp teeth. Guess he didn’t need my help anymore. But, uh, had he grown a few inches in the minutes he’d been awake? He looked bigger than he had before I’d placed him on the grass.

“Let’s go,” my Tinman commanded, setting off again.

I gathered Nugget, who propped his chin on my shoulder and pressed his belly to my chest before promptly falling back to sleep. Maybe he’d grown, maybe he hadn’t, but either way my love for him deepened. He trusted me with his wellbeing, and I would do everything in my power to give him the best life.

We reached the row of buildings and bumped into a stunning woman who shot out of a door. She had curly black hair and a lovely dark complexion. “Soldier,” she blurted out, shooting her gaze to the ground. “We’ve paid our taxes.”

“That, I know,” he responded. “I’m here as a guest, not a guard.”

“You are Jasher?” she asked, unsure. When he nodded, she brightened but still didn’t look up. “Good to have you back.”

“Has my brother passed through?”

“Which one?”

How many did he have?

“Anders,” he replied.

“No. Not for weeks.”

The muscles in his back bunched.

When Jasher failed to make an introduction, I rolled my eyes. “Hi. I’m Moriah.”

“Natalie,” she responded with open curiosity. A silent request for more information.

Nugget stirred in my arms, spotted her and growled. His eyes flashed red.

Natalie’s smile fell, choking sounds springing from her. “That’s a rabdog. A runt.”

Here we go again. “He’s friendly, I promise.”

“Rabdogs are never friendly.” She reached behind her back, swung her arm forward, and aimed a pistol at my pet.

Nugget sensed the increased threat and reacted accordingly, snarling, preparing to launch from my arms and attack.

For some reason, I experienced no fear. Only fury. Enough with the threats! “Put the weapon away,” I demanded. “I’m under the protection of a royal guard, and he takes his job very seriously.” As he’d proven earlier today. “Considers it a matter of life and death.”

To my immense surprise, Jasher stepped in front of us, becoming our shield. A true sense of security enveloped me for the first time since I’d arrived in Hakeldama, and I relaxed. Nugget, too, calmed down.

“Any who attempt to harm the woman and the rabdog will pay a steep price,” Jasher stated, as unruffled as ever but also harder. Harsher. Frightening. And yes, okay, sexy.

Natalie became ashen, and her hand began to tremble. She lowered and sheathed the gun.

“Where is everyone headed in such a hurry?” I asked, the momentary peril already forgiven and forgotten. Maybe I’d grown as a person. Maybe the influx of danger I’d faced in a matter of days had hardened me to difficulty.

The beauty pointed a building with a sign that proclaimed BUFFET OF WRATH. “There’s a revenge lottery tonight. Speaking of, I don’t want to be late.” She didn’t wait around to hear our response but shot off like a bullet.

Jasher’s shoulders rolled in the slightest bit. “The inn keeper will be there too. We won’t be able to get a room until the lottery ends.”

“What’s a revenge lottery? Because it sounds illegal, according to Hakeldama law. Wait. Never mind. We’re in Lawless Forest. No rules apply.”

“You can witness the lottery firsthand.” He headed for the same building as Natalie.

I kept pace at his side, my curiosity growing with every step. As he reached out to open the door, Nugget squirmed for freedom. I freed him from the sling and lowered him to the ground, my shoulder and back singing with relief, glad to be free from the heavy weight.

My precious darted off, racing for the forest as if he’d spotted prey.

“Nugget!” I called, ready to dart after him.

The executioner clasped my arm, holding me in place. “He’ll be fine, I assure you. He’s a wild animal. Frankly, I expected him to take off long before this.”

Honestly? Me, too. “Yes, but he’s just a baby. My baby. What if he gets lost?”

Snort. “Rabdogs are never babies, and they are always excellent trackers. Why do you think trappers breed them? If Nugget wishes to return to you, he will.”

But… “What if he doesn’t choose to come back?” I asked with a sniffle. I’d lost so much already. “Some people don’t, you know.”

Jasher faced me fully and captured my gaze. We stared at each other, as we’d done several times before. An action that might have become a habit…and an addiction. Then he did something new. With his thumb on my chin and his index finger notched beneath it, he tilted my head, bringing my face closer to his. His intoxicating scent fogged my head.

Awareness arced between us, electric. Sharper than ever before. Seductive. Almost dangerous.

“He’ll come back,” he vowed, those sunset eyes intense.

I fought to focus. To think of anything but his nearness and his sweetness and his kindness and his beauty and his everything. “How can you be so sure?”

“As I’ve learned, leaving you behind isn’t easy.” A soft statement that hit harder than any punch.

Mind. Blown. No way he’d just implied what I thought he’d implied.

But what if he had?

I closed my eyes as I spiraled and sputtered internally for a response. When he dropped his hand, spun on his heel, and entered the building, leaving me on my own, I blinked in confusion and early screamed with frustration. How could he turn his smolder on and off so quickly?

After collecting the wits scattered across my mind, I hurried after him. I would ponder his astonishing admission and robotic abilities later. Probably all night long and for years to come.

Inside, I discovered a larger than expected room filled to the brim with laughing guests. Numbered jail cells lined the walls. There were twenty in total, and a lone male occupied each. They ranged in age, anywhere from eighteen to seventy, and they wore only a loin cloth. Unlike the women, they weren’t enjoying the party.

Jasher, who had waited for my entrance, tugged me into a shadowed corner. None of the guests noticed us. Too busy plucking snacks and drinks from trays carried by teenage girls, I supposed, and walking from cell to cell, examining the prisoners as if they were cattle meant to be auctioned off.

“Hello, hello, hello,” a grinning woman sang. Like, she actually sang, as if she starred in an opera. And she wasn’t done. “Welcome, guests. Welcome. Good evening, good times, and good fortune.”

Cue the crickets. The crowd quieted, all gazes sliding to the thirty-something woman as she climbed upon a small boxy dais in the center of the room. She possessed a thick mane of golden hair. Golden everything, really, from her eyes to her skin to her clothing.

Despite her beautiful voice and high class appearance, no one evinced interest in what she had to say.

Her grin vanished. “Clap,” she commanded.

In a blink, an overabundance of cheers rang out. Oookay.

Goldie flipped her lustrous mane over one shoulder. “Thank you, thank you. Now. For those who need a reminder, I’m Mayor Leona Gainly.” She paused for more applause, which she received, though not quite as enthusiastically as before. “For many of us, planting season proved tough this year. That’s why I decided to launch a special, bonus revenge lottery!”

Finally, real cheers and whistles.

She made a laughing bid for silence. “Here’s how this will go. I’ll draw a prisoner’s number and a citizen’s name. Each lucky lady will win the right to penalize her prisoner however she pleases for two whole days.”

This time, boos sounded. A surprise.

“All right, all right, calm down,” she said, showing her palms. “I know you’re usually given a full week, but this is merely a bonus round. The same rules apply. Prisoners cannot leave the cages. If you enter one, you do so at your own risk. There will be no sexual exchanges, period. And you can cause as much harm as you’d like, but you cannot kill. If you do murder, you’ll be prohibited from ever entering another lottery.”

Once again, cheers erupted. A few members of the crowd pumped their fists toward the ceiling. Cries rang out. “Drogan is losing an eye tonight!” “My mallet thirsts for a taste of Conner!” “I’ve got two fists of fury and a sock full of rocks!”

“What did these men do?” I whispered to Jasher.

“They are bounty hunters who captured sacrifices and returned them to their titleholders for punishment and death,” he whispered back. “Those sacrifices were people the citizens here loved.”

Ah. The lottery now made sense. “I guess I understand two of the rules. But not the one about you know.” I wiggled my brows to emphasize my meaning. If a winner fell for her prize, and vice versa, their love should triumph over all.

A corner of his mouth might have twitched in amusement. “No, I don’t know.”

My heart skipped a beat as if I were some sort of romance novel heroine. “A happy ending,” I explained, maybe kinda sorta blushing.

“What’s a happy ending?” He almost captured my gaze with his again, but I had the strength of mind to return my attention to the podium. “You’ll have to explain it to me. In great detail.”

There wasn’t a suggestive note in his voice, and yet I reacted as if he’d purred the words straight into my ear. Goose bumps spread over my limbs, inviting a warm flush to my skin. I…he…

Was Jasher flirting with me? No, no. Of course not. I was still reeling from the world’s sexiest embrace, that was all.

Not sure what else to do, but knowing I’d only get myself into trouble if I continued our conversation, I bumped my shoulder into his, and stated, “Okay, funny man, I withdraw the question.”

“So you do not wish to demonstrate on me? I learn by example.”

What the what? He did not just say that. Nope. He was teasing me for some reason.

Mercifully, he explained, “There is no fraternizing between a winner and her prisoner to prevent emotional attachment. Which happened in the past. A woman fell in love with a bounty hunter and set him free, intending to run off with him. He killed her and freed the others, and they burned the village to ash.”

What a brutal world this was.

From the left, a plump grandma type approached the dais holding a black bowl. From the right, a tall, willowy matron approached with a red one. Silence gripped the room as Mayor Leona drew a small piece of paper from both. “Kitty Higgenbothem, cage eleven! Congrats!”

More applause filled the airwaves. An older woman jumped up and down, clapping. Kitty, I presumed.

Other winners were chosen. But the more names that were called, the less enthusiastic the crowd became.

“Only one number remains.” Leona raised her hands and wriggled her fingers, then reached inside the black bowl to pull a name. When she squealed with happiness, any lingering excitement turned to frothing irritation. “Leona Narwood, cage eight!”

Silence. Then, “Cheater!” someone cried. “You won Drogan in the last lottery.”

“Now, ladies,” the mayor admonished, a teacher with unruly students. “You watched me make the draw. The odds of a back-to-back win aren’t great, but they aren’t impossible, either. You all saw me draw. How could I possibly con you?”

“You cheated,” someone insisted. “I demand a redraw!”

All hint of civility wiped from the mayor’s features. “You are maligning my character.” Fury crackled from her every pore. “That is a crime punishable by banishment. I suggest you tread carefully.”

When spectators stormed from the building, Jasher snaked an arm around my waist and tugged me in front of him, out of their path. He maintained his hold, as if I might bolt. Ha! I leaned into him, my will to resist clearly damaged. Perhaps beyond repair.

As we stood together, the most sublime heat enveloped me, bringing another hit of his incredible scent. My pulse fluttered. We waited, silent, time suspended, until the doorway cleared. As he led me out, I missed our closeness.

Once outside, we crossed the street to enter the only four story structure in the area. His boots thumped against the wooden floor as we approached a counter manned by a lovely woman with pale hair anchored in a bun. Liquor bottles filled the display shelves behind her. Lively piano music played, the perfect accompaniment to the wanted posters that decorated the walls. The same women who’d attended the lottery now occupied round tables spread out throughout the room. Some played cards, but all were tossing back drinks and laughing, even those not chosen in the lottery.

The wild west theme continued. Hello, saloon.

The moment the bartender noticed Jasher, she paled and looked down. “We’ve paid our taxes.”

What did royal guards do when people didn’t pay their taxes, hmm?

“I’m not here for that,” he responded.

Her lips slowly parted. “Jasher?”

Again with the uncertainty.

He gave a clipped nod. “Has Anders come through?”

“Not for about a month.”

His muscles bunched with disappointment. “Give me two rooms.”

The gal winced. “My rooms got snapped up earlier today so revenge lottery attendees could remain close to the jail.” She rested her elbows on the counter in a relaxed pose, and yet she remained tense. “There’s only one room available. It’s the honeymoon suite, so it’s triple the normal rate.”

One room, and the honeymoon suite, no less. “Told you,” I muttered.

Jasher worked his jaw, very careful not to glance my way as I smirked at him. “We’ll take it.” He threw a gold coin the blonde’s way, and she caught it.

“Is your gold known as silver?” I asked, confused.

He ignored me. “We’ll also take two baths, clothes for my companion, two meals, three pounds of raw meat, and a skin of whatever milk you have on hand.”

Had he ordered the raw meat for Nugget, just in case? I fought to curb the urge to wrap my arms around him and hug him tight.

“Plus a notepad and pencil, if you have them,” I rushed to add.

He gave a stiff nod, accepted the key the blonde slid his way, then stalked off. Head high, I trailed him. The crowd watched us with unabashed curiosity as we scaled a flight of stairs. Did they think we were lovers? I was his prisoner? Bodyguard? The moment we were out of sight, whispers wafted to my ears. Unfortunately, or fortunately, I couldn’t make out the individual words.

We bypassed the second and third floors. By the time we reached the fourth story, the music had started up again, drowning out all other sounds.

Only one door waited at the top. He opened up and motioned me inside. I entered a spacious chamber with more creature comforts than expected and smiled. Forget the sole bed with a gorgeous red comforter positioned upon a round dais in the center of the room. Forget the open balcony and full-length mirrors stationed in different corners, gifting anyone on the bed with a view of the entire space. A small, square dining table offered two cushioned chairs. The sitting area boasted a purple velvet couch and shiny coffee table, with two pink and blue recliners. In front of a crackling hearth waited a large tub forged from copper. Off to the side, an open door revealed a closet-size room with a toilet.

My knees quaked with excitement. “This is heaven on earth. Well, not earth, but whatever planet, solar system, dimension or realm this is.”

A whoosh drew my gaze to the balcony. Nugget came trotting into the room as if he owned the place, and I nearly ruptured at the seams with joy.

“Told you.” Jasher discarded the pack and his weapons near a recliner and goodness gracious there were a lot of blades. He strode to a built-in dresser with wide cabinet doors on each side and turned the glass knob on one, revealing a shelf containing everything we’d ordered. Two plates of food. A large mug of milk. A bowl of raw meat. Folded clothing. A basket of toiletries. Two towels. The pad and pencil.

“How did these items get there so quickly?” I asked, awed. “Magic?”

“A pulley system, an organized buffet with every amenity the inn offers at the ready, and workers who started gathering the moment I paid.”

Oh. Well. However disappointing the method, wondrous scents made my mouth water.

Jasher placed the bowl of meat on the floor. My pet prowled closer, leery of the executioner, but too hungry to resist.

Once Nugget cleaned the bowl, Jasher poured in the milk. The rabdog lapped up every drop, returned to me to rub against my leg, then bounded to the bed, where he curled up and drifted to sleep.

Jasher passed me a plate and claimed the other, and we relocated to the table, sitting across from each other. “We will converse after we’ve eaten and cleaned up.” Head down, avoiding my gaze, he dug into his meal.

Too hungry to care about his avoidance of me and the delay, I shoveled in a bite of food. My taste buds exploded with the first bite of creamy, cheesy chicken. Or what tasted like chicken. Other explosions occurred with the honeyed carrots, mashed potatoes, and buttery wilted greens. Like Nugget, I left nothing behind. My stomach protested the volume after going days with so little, but my willpower was shot. Besides, I couldn’t bring myself to regret a single bite.

Leaning back in my chair with a satisfied grin, I realized Jasher had finished as well—and his attention remained fixed upon me. My grin slowly faded. Such intensity, his smolder in full force. If my dad was right and I glimpsed a little too deep into people, making them uncomfortable, Jasher’s consideration bore holes into my soul. What thoughts rolled through his head?

I squirmed in my seat, my blood heating as if I’d cranked my internal thermostat to inferno. Look away. Yes! I managed it.

“Take your bath,” he rasped, standing. He stalked to a recliner, plopped down, and dug into his pack, removing tools to clean and sharpen his weapons. The chair back blocked his view of the tub. Another chivalrous gesture on his part.

I didn’t know what to make of this boy.

Trusting him not to look, I collected the basket of toiletries, the pile of clean clothing, and a towel, then approached the tub, grateful for the opportunity to remove layers of dirt, grime and filth in front of crackling logs. Except, there were no knobs on the tub. No hoses.

I organized my stuff and ran my hand along the tub’s upper edge, searching for a hidden button. “How am I supposed to turn on the—” Hot, steaming water rose from the bottom, filling the container in record time. Oooh.

“Like that,” Jasher replied. “Words are power.”

I glanced at the chair as I unwound the length of my braid. My companion kept his back to me, remaining busy with his task. Trembling a little, I shed garments I only wished to burn and climbed into the decadent liquid. Oh, goodness gracious. My muscles sang with delight.

Though I yearned to soak and enjoy, I didn’t want to be rude and make Jasher wait longer than necessary. At a swift pace, I used the jars of scrubs and soaps to wash from head to toe. Again and again, my focus returned to my companion. Each time, I stroked the compass. His compass. Not once did he turn to steal a peek. He had his faults, many faults, but he was a gentleman, and I liked that.

When I emerged, the water drained without any prompting. I dried off and hurriedly dressed in the new clothes. An outfit much like the blonde’s. A white shirt and soft, loose pants, with beige undergarments. Each item was a perfect fit.

“Your turn,” I said, brushing my hair. Though the heat from the fire was nice, the waves dried in a matter of seconds, as they’d done at West’s. Man, a girl could get used to these kinds of luxuries.

He stood and pivoted. We locked stares again, and my breath hitched. He double blinked.

“What?” I demanded.

“Your hair.” His pupils expanded, eclipsing those sunset irises. Tension tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth.

Flutters dominated my stomach, and I reached up to finger a lock. “I don’t know how it dries so fast sometimes but not others.”

“Outside of the forest and storms, Hakeldama air sucks out moisture.” He stepped toward me. I stepped toward him. We met in the middle. “I’ve never seen your hair down.”

Appearing dazed, he reached out, and traced his fingertips over the dark tresses, almost petting me. My spine tingled with anticipation, and I wanted…needed him to fist the strands and yank me closer.

What was happening to me? Between us?

He dipped his head to breathe me in, and his eyelids hooded. “You smell like happiness.”

“Thank you,” I rasped. Perhaps I should walk away. Yes, yes. Walk away. But I didn’t. I waited, curious to learn what he’d do next. What he would say.

In the end, he clenched his jaw and walked away.

Trembling and in need of an outlet, I detoured to the dresser, where I collected the pad and pencil. Then I marched to the chair Jasher had vacated and sank onto the cushion. While I should be exhausted, now that I was clean and well-fed, I remained hyperaware of him, twitching with every noise. The rustle of cloth as he disrobed. The splash of water as he stepped into the tub. More splashes as he washed.

I began to draw my usual, the monstra, but I didn’t get past the creation of an ear. Not right. Argh! I flipped to the next page. Attempted another monstra. Gah! Also not right. New page. As I tried yet again, letting my hand guide the pencil of its own accord, I said, “Tell me about your mother.” Maybe a distraction would help. And he’d agreed to answer my questions. “What part of my world did she come from?”

Silence stretched until I thought the handsome executioner intended to ignore me. Finally, he spoke up. “A place called Texas.”

“Ah. The cowboy capital of the world.”

Another pause. Then, “What’s a cowboy?”

“Someone who herds and tends cattle. Rides horses and even bulls.” I shrugged. “It’s more of an attitude, I guess.”

“And what is Kansas best known for?”

He’d remembered the name of my homeland. “Exactly what I experienced. A girl being transported by tornado into a strange world.”

Water splashed, and I imagined Jasher soaping up, naked, all those muscles and tattoos on display. I licked suddenly dry lips, swallowed, and continued etching lines here, there. Shading. The image came together, and heat singed my cheeks. Sweet goodness. I’d drawn my guide’s arresting face.

“How old were you when your mother died?” I asked. What I didn’t do? Stop drawing.

“Ten. I don’t remember much about her, but I do recall the warning she gave me and my brothers every night,” he admitted softly. “If we steal someone’s joy, we should consider it a loan, for the act will always return to us with interest.”

A truth I agreed with a hundred percent. “She sounds wise and kind.” I liked her already. “Is Anders younger or older than you?”

“Neither. We are…triplets.” Jasher’s husky voice poured over me, rousing more goose bumps.

Wait. “Triplets? So there are two carbon copies of you?” I gasped out.

“Yes.” A strange inflection in his tone roused my curiosity, but I couldn’t get past the admission. “Reese is the third.”

“What of your father?”

“He isn’t up for discussion.”

Jasher sounded so close. I glanced up and found him towering next to my chair, fully dressed. Cheeks heating anew, I scrambled to close the notepad. Had he seen my drawing? He must have. But he made no comment as he continued to the recliner across from mine and eased down, facing me.

“Now,” he said, his tone ominous, “we chat.”