The Great and Terrible: No Monsters Like Hers
The Great and Terrible: Chapter 21

I tangled my fingers in Jasher’s silken hair, our tongues thrusting together. As we tasted each other, shivers and warmth overwhelmed me. My every nerve ending buzzed, coming alive with energy, propelling me from desperate to frenzied in seconds.

At my hips, he fisted handfuls of my nightgown. A single tug of the material brought me closer. And I needed to be closer. Needed his nearness more than I needed my next breath. I didn’t mean to, but I sank my nails into his scalp to keep him with me.

He cupped my face, tilted my head the way he desired, deepening the world-rocking kiss, and absolutely, utterly devoured me. Melting, I poured myself over him.

With every flick of his tongue, my control frayed a bit more until all I could do was cling to his incredible body. Knead his powerful strength. Ever increasing heat radiated through his clothing, creating a cocoon around us. A sweetly scented oasis made for Jasher and Moriah.

One of his hands slid into my hair. He groaned. The most delicious dizziness swept me up, up and away. I’m getting drunk on him. I needed… required….more. More of his touch. More of his everything. More Jasher. Not get attached? Ha! An impossibility from the start. There was no denying my feelings for him. This wonderful man meant something to me, his life precious.

Will never be the same. Forever changed.

I’d been stalked by death since my arrival in Hakeldama. Perhaps even before, considering the tornado had set a course straight to me. How ironic that this once emotionless executioner had swooped in and saved me. How could I give this up—give up him—even temporarily?

With a hoarse groan, he wrenched his face from mine, ending our wild exchange. Our ragged pants blended.

“Jasher,” I rasped and moaned. “I ache for you.”

“Why do you want to be with me?” His ragged tone possessed a guttural edge.

I gripped his shirt. “You’re a special, one of a kind, once in a lifetime contradictory treasure. Cold but hot. Ruthless but merciful. A protective executioner. Kind when you don’t have to be. Smart. Beautiful inside and out. You are my Tinman. ”

Cracks spread through his expression, revealing his own desperation. “And you’re my princess. I would war with the Guardian, my brothers, and our laws for more time with you.” He fisted a handful of my locks and slipped the other around my waist, holding me tight. “But I refuse to war with you. Your love for your father is commendable, and I won’t try to stop you from returning to him. Unless we continue this kiss. Then I’m not sure I’ll be able to help myself. ”

I suspected I fell wildly, hopelessly, forever in love with him right that second. Had lovelier words ever been spoken? “I will replace a way to return to you,” I vowed. Whatever it took, I would get back to him. I caressed his cheek. “If you want me to come back.”

Sadness burrowed into his expression. Like Patch, he must doubt the possibly of a return. But no matter. I would prove him wrong. “I’m fighting everything in me not to toss you into that bed, princess. I do want you to come back.” His pupils dominated his irises as he dipped to gently nip my bottom lip with his teeth. But he didn’t linger. He released me and closed his fingers around the compass. “You probably wonder about my mother and the history of my cloning.”

A subject change. I understood. “Yes.”

“I’m not sure how the Guardian grows so many clones at once. We are his second batch, and he taught only his chosen replacement, who will take over upon his death. Only that one was separated from the rest of us upon our birth. We were given in packs of three to women he selected, then raised in a special village, where we stayed until the age of ten. Then we came here for training by the guards birthed before us. An otherworlder named Emma cared for me along with Anders and Reese.”

Emma. Perhaps a connection to Aunt Em. As gently as I was able, I asked, “How did Emma die?”

“She wished only to return to her home. A place over the rainbow she said.” His knuckles skimmed my skin, just under the compass, setting off a new chain reaction of delicious sensations. “Rebels invaded our village. They took her, among others. The royal guard in operation at that time gave chase, but it was too late.” Pain flashed over his features. “All the prisoners had been executed, my mother included.”

A tragic tale that made me long to hug the boy he’d been. The people needed help. My people. While the Guardian had done what he could, his system failed the most vulnerable of citizens. Look at what it had done to Patch.

There was another option, as I had proven, and I wouldn’t stop until all sacrifices were freed and offenders were punished for their own crimes in a fair and just manner. Justice would start with the governors. No longer would the Wests and those of their ilk impose their reign of terror.

“Here,” I said, reaching for the compass’s chain. “This belongs to you.”

“No. I’d like you to keep it. Maybe it will remind you of me.” He pressed his brow against mine. “I will miss you every moment of every day you are gone.” He kissed me before lifting his head. “While the Guardian is busy at the dome, I was able to locate Queen Sandrine’s secret room. From the whispers I’ve heard, it was discovered the day of your arrival. Would you like to see it? Though I warn you. It’s locked, and I have no idea how to open it.”

The perfect evasion. I couldn’t resist. Just seeing a door my mother had utilized thrilled me. “Yes, please and thank you. Give me two minutes to change.”

I hurried over to the dresser to collect the stack of folded clothes, then darted into the bathroom, where I changed. When I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, I flinched. Goodness gracious. I looked everything and nothing like I was used to seeing. A cut marred my brow and dried blood smeared my cheeks, but my dark eyes sparkled with excitement, my lips forever changed from the kiss branded on my soul.

I should tell him about Iris’s demand. The water maiden had only mentioned I wasn’t to disclose her plan to Ian. But thanks to the clone thing, Jasher was Ian, wasn’t he?

I scrubbed a hand over my face. I needed to come clean to Jasher but wasn’t sure I could risk it, crimen-wise, even though he might be the only one able to help me figure out a solution. Except. Hmm. Iris hadn’t demanded one boon; she’d requested three.

I’ve decided what you’ll do for me. And you will ask me no questions about it. You will simply shove this into the Guardian’s mouth the next time you are with him. Use any means necessary, and do not warn him of your plan beforehand.

The first: ask her no questions. The second: shove the disc, whatever it was, into the Guardian’s mouth. The third: do not warn him. But I owed her only one favor, which I’d granted by asking zero questions.

My breath caught. Was the answer truly so straightforward and uncomplicated?

Triumph bloomed at the possibility. Once I secured my boots, I practically skipped back to Jasher. What a day! From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs.

My executioner hadn’t budged. He spotted me, and his jaw went slack.

“What?” I asked, skidding to a halt.

“Happiness oozes from you.” He roved his gaze over me. “I like it.”

“Well, I’m with you. I’m pretty sure I’ve outsmarted Iris, and I’m about to see a secret door my mother used.”

His chin lowered. He peered at me through the thick shield of his lashes. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my origins, princess.”

“You are forgiven.” I cupped his cheeks, the way he’d done mine. “I understand why you didn’t. But if you have any more secrets, now is the time to reveal them. I promise not to erupt…more than a little bit.”

Greater tension swept over him. “There is something, but I cannot share it without becoming a liar.”

Well. That same tension wrapped around me. I tightened my hold on him. “Are you promised to another? Dying? Working against me? Planning to hunt Nugget?” The worst things I could think up.

He nuzzled into my palms. “No, no, no, and no.”

“Then I guess I’m okay with your secret,” I said, lowering my arms.

We exchanged a smile, and his face lit up. I lost my breath all over again, and I swore then and there to make him smile every day we were together.

He clasped my hand in his and started for the door, only to pause, sigh, and release me. “I shouldn’t show such familiarity with you outside this room while I’m on duty. You’ll have to follow me.”

Happy to. Except, “Will you get in trouble for this little midnight excursion?”

“With the Guardian at the gate, fighting off the rebels, I’m currently the highest ranked among us.” He kissed me once more, a swift peck I welcomed. “No one will gainsay me. Plus, I haven’t been ordered to stay away. In fact, I was dismissed from the frontlines with orders to protect and serve you, however you request. I was told you demanded my presence.”

And the Guardian acquiesced, despite the danger outside. Good of him. I wondered how he would react to my newfound dream of tweaking kingdom laws. Welcome my ideas or go to war with me?

Jasher winked and led me out of the room. There were no longer any guards posted in the hallway. Guess they were dealing with Patch.

An ache cut through me. “How long were you at my door before I screamed?”

“Less than an hour.”

We navigated the halls, taking a left here, a right there, venturing down staircase after staircase. The abundance of space and wealth proved staggering. White columns decorated with hand-carved flowers. Breathtaking vases on display. Diamond encrusted side tables. Golden sconces embedded with emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. Paintings, as well as marble, bronze and alabaster busts of the Guardian. Judging by the sheer number of depictions, he might be a wee bit self-absorbed.

We came across no soldiers. Everyone asleep? Out on patrol? And yet, even though we were alone, I felt as if I were being watched. The same sensation I’d experienced when Nugget and the pegacorns followed me through the forest. Had one or all come after me, despite our goodbye? If anyone harmed them…

“What’s wrong?” Jasher demanded, glancing at me over his shoulder.

“I might sense Nugget or the pegacorns.” Or the birds? But I looked here and there and spotted nothing suspicious.

“If any of the three are here, I’ll make sure they remain safe. You have my word.”

Relief bombarded me. “Thank you.”

Finally, we reached the catacombs. Wide tunnels with arched, open pathways. A crumbling stone wall created a dead-end and featured a mural with woman and a closed, knob-less door bracketed by two genuine torches. Light danced with shadows, flickering over the colorful space. It was obvious attempts had been made to open the entrance. Scratches and dents abounded, with sections of rock scattered over the floor along with layers of dust.

I closed in, eager to examine the details. Oh! A true-to-life self-portrait! In it, Sandra—Queen Sandrine—wore golden armor and stood bathed in flames. Wait. My eyes widened. The flames bore King Ahav’s likeness. Even his crown was detectible. He appeared translucent, outlined by the inferno and superimposed over the queen. Except, as torch light glowed over the paint and I altered my angle of sight, the queen became…

I gasped. The queen morphed into me. Moriah.

What—how—what? I looked. Looked again. We’d always resembled each other, but we weren’t exact copies. Not even close. Painted Moriah held the sword in one hand. With the other, she reached out, motioning to the door, revealing her palm to the viewer.

“From reports, I know attempts to demolish the entire wall have failed,” Jasher told me.

Demolish this amazing artwork? No. That, I vowed to prevent. I gave the door a more thorough examination. But again and again, my attention returned to, well, myself. If my mother had painted the adult daughter she hadn’t yet birthed, that meant she’d had an inkling of the future or she’d returned to Hakeldama when she disappeared from Kansas, hoping I might follow her and one day stand in this spot.

The queen would have wanted her own flesh and blood to enter, yes? Would have forged a way. Maybe a path only I could access.

My focus settled on the outstretched palm. Hey! The ring. The forever key.

Key. Lock…

With the ring banded around my index finger, I reached out to fit my trembling hand against the painted one. A perfect fit. Heat sparked from the metal, fueling hope. When the grind of turning gears registered, I stumbled back, grinning.

Jasher thrust me behind him, acting as my shield. He unsheathed a dagger. I rose to my tiptoes to peek over his broad shoulder, watching in amazement as the door slid backward and to the side, creating an opening. A musty scent coated the air.

“You did it,” he breathed, and kissed my temple.

I pressed a hand to my belly. “What do you think is inside?”

“We’ll replace out. I’ll go in first and make sure everything is safe.”

“Give me a dagger. We do this together.” I didn’t wait for his agreement but confiscated a spare blade strapped to his body and stepped to his side. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He heaved a sigh and grabbed a torch. We stepped forward, entering the shadows. As light chased away darkness, I braced, waiting for the big reveal.

Hmm. An armory. Shelves encased in glass covered the walls, each filled with gold armor, swords, spears, bows and arrows, daggers, shields, plus many other items I couldn’t identify. No matter what the pieces were, they were the finest I’d ever beheld, obviously made with expert hands. And there, in the center of it all, was a podium, within another glass case, with a clear vase containing rings exactly like the one I wore.

Confusion hit and hit hard. “Why did my mother give me this?”

“To kill me, I’m certain.”

The Guardian! His voice came from behind me. I spun, watching as he marched into the chamber with a cluster of soldiers. My heart became a war drum. All trace of affability was erased, his mien as blank as Jasher’s in the beginning.

“Surrender Moriah,” Ian said, not even sparing me a glance. He brightened when he noticed the rings. “Bring her to me, Jasher.”

“Yes, sir.” Jasher didn’t miss a beat, pushing me toward Ian.

“I don’t understand.”

“If you think I care whether or not you understand, you are more foolish than your parents.” Ian grabbed my wrist and flattened my palm against the case.

When nothing happened, he frowned and increased pressure. Still nothing happened.

Scowling now, he ripped the ring from my finger. “Bind her. Take her to the dungeon and lock her with the others.”

“Yes, sir,” Jasher repeated, stalking closer.

I remained rooted, glaring at him. He’d meant it when he’d kissed me. Meant it when he’d admitted he wanted me to come back. I knew he hadn’t lied, and not because there was no crimen or storm. Because I trusted him. Which meant, what? He was on my side, but he had a part to play right now? That he couldn’t help me if the Guardian suspected him of betrayal? Yes! That must be it.

He grabbed me, a little rougher than I expected. But then, he had to really sell this. I fought for the same reason, but in the end he tied my wrists behind my back and nudged me toward the door.

I wrenched from the contact. “Don’t touch me, traitor!” Too much?

His blank expression remained as cold and unconcerned as Ian’s. He evinced not the slightest hint of guilt or remorse. Still I trusted him.

“Ah, did someone think the handsome executioner was a hero?” Attempting to open another case, and failing, the Guardian told Jasher, “Go ahead. Show her what you and all the others are. You have my permission this once. Perhaps then she’ll accept her fate.”

“Show me what?” I demanded.

A muscle ticked in Jasher’s jaw a split second before he changed. Horror gripped my throat and squeezed, choking me. His body grew, his bones elongating. Warping. Scales appeared over his flesh, his teeth lengthened and sharpened, and his back produced gnarled wings.

In a matter of seconds, a monster jumped out of his innermost being and overtook his outer shell. “Monstra,” I croaked.

With his narrowed gaze focused somewhere beyond me, he huffed and puffed. Smoke streamed from his nostrils.

Strangled sounds left me. “You’re one of them. A living nightmare.” A destroyer.

With hatred filling his eye sockets, he lifted his head and roared.