Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters, Annabelle Hawthorne [smart ebook reader TXT] 📗

she was worried it would break. “This sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a pair of goggles.”

“They’re magic. Tink uses them to take care of the house, but now she needs them back so that she can show the Caretaker how to activate the home’s defenses. The goggles are linked to the house and will teach him how to do it, but he needs to be wearing them for his first time.”

“And Mike is the Caretaker?” Beth shoved a stone out from beneath the larger one. The pile tilted, and Beth scurried off the pile as several hundred pounds of stone rolled free, sliding off to one side. They crashed against the hard stone floor, the sound of breaking rock echoing off the ceiling high above. “I thought he was just the owner. And why wasn’t that the first thing they did?”

“Real life is…complicated. Mike’s first few days were busy dealing with threats from within, and the goggles were lost.”

“Life never quite goes how you planned, does it?” Beth climbed off the rocks and knelt by the hole, sweat pouring down her face. “I just moved a ton of rock off you. Do you think you can move?”

“Let me see.” Abella’s face disappeared. Gazing into the gap, Beth saw her put both hands on the ground and push. The pile shifted slightly, but the gargoyle wasn’t strong enough. Her face reappeared. “No, not yet.”

“I’ve got time.” Beth’s stomach growled, and she put her hand against it. When was the last time she had felt so hungry? “I don’t suppose you have food?”

Abella shook her head. “We didn’t plan on being here this long, and I don’t eat.”

“Damn.” Beth rubbed her stomach and promised herself a big meal later. Scowling, she climbed on the pile of stones again. “I guess I’ll just keep on keeping on.”

“Beth!” Abella shouted as the pile shifted beneath Beth’s feet. “Run!”

“Run? From what?” Turning to face in the only direction Abella could see, Beth saw the Minotaur step out from behind one of the pillars. Clutching a giant ax in his hands, he snorted and came toward her.

“Oh. Fuck.” Beth lifted her spear. She had nowhere to run.

In the darkness, Dana could hear the ocean crashing against the sand, gentle pulses that threatened to lull her back to sleep. If not for the sudden sound of the heavy glass door sliding in its track behind her, she would have let the ocean carry her mind away, just another cloud of thought drifting over the horizon.

“Hey there, Sparks.”

Dana heard the can of beer touch down on the glass end table, followed by the stretching of canvas when Alex sprawled out on the lounge chair next to her. From her seat, she could smell Alex’s skin, a combination of sunscreen, seawater, and the grilled burgers they had eaten earlier.

“Mmh.” Dana reached over, quickly finding Alex’s fingers with her own.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m afraid to open my eyes. I’m afraid that if I open my eyes, this will all go away.”

“And why would it go away?”

“Because you…you…” The oxygen left Dana’s lungs, the sudden inability to speak bringing back a flood of memories of the crash, the memorial service, and everything else. Taking a deep breath, she let her mind drift among the waves for a moment. “You’re dead.”

“I don’t feel dead.” Dana could hear the smile in Alex’s voice. “How did I die?”

“Motorcycle crash. Road was wet, and a car lost control, hitting you head-on.”

“Wow. Sounds awful.”

“It was.” Dana was waiting for the world to pop, to take her back to reality. When it didn’t happen, she opened her eyes and stared off the balcony, watching the water crash onto itself, erasing footprints from the sand. The sun had just set, and the world was vanishing from sight. “This is just a dream, you know? From our trip to the coast. This is the little apartment we rented, overlooking the ocean. Tomorrow morning, you’re going to spill waffle mix all over the floor, and we’re going to go out to breakfast instead.”

“I hope we go somewhere good.”

“We do, but…” Dana couldn’t bear it any longer. She closed her eyes tightly, then opened them again, wiping away the tears that had formed. Turning in her chair, she looked at Alex, praying that the beach wouldn’t turn into the road where Alex had died, a cross pinned to the guardrail where the bike had skidded into it and gotten stuck.

Alex Winters was sitting sideways on the lounge chair, her legs crossed in front of her. She had tossed on a long white tank top after her shower, and her tight curls had been pulled up into a bun. Her skin was brown with warm orange-red undertones, and her dark eyes reflected the glow from the porch light that hung above them.

“Alex,” Dana whispered. It was the first time Alex had come to her in a dream fully intact without triggering a sequence of nightmares.

“Someone makes a comment,” Alex finished for her. “A guy at one of the tables calls us a pair of dykes. You get pissed and slam his face into his eggs. The cops get called but not before we get the hell out of there.”

“You remember?”

Alex laughed. It was the same laugh that had attracted Dana to Alex when they’d first met and when Dana had accidentally shorted a circuit they had been building together for the class robots. Seeing those sparks reflected in the dark pools of Alex’s eyes had made Dana’s heart skip several beats, the moment only interrupted when the circuit board had caught on fire.

“Of course I remember. I was there.” Alex winked.

“You were, but…now you’re not.”

“Yeah.” Alex’s smile vanished, and she stared into the darkness. “It’s amazing how quickly your future vanishes when you die. Death swallows everything up in an instant. People will tell you that your life passes before your eyes when you go. Those are the people who survive, the ones who