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It got so bad that monsters and humans alike were starving. Then the Coraline Convention was called. Delegations from each monster race as well as the United Nations agreed to end the killing and restore order. The result was the signing of the Monster Treaty. It put limitations on all monsters, made laws for humans and monsters to live in this world together, and ensured lasting peace for humankind. They even built a statue of Coraline in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art to commemorate the Treaty.
The world was finally beginning to recover from the decade-long reign of terror, but that didn’t mean that every monster agreed with it.
And that didn’t mean Kierse was going to survive this altercation.
“Now, let’s start with your name,” he said.
“Why don’t we start with yours?”
“Surely you know the name of the man you are robbing.” His smile said otherwise. As if he knew that she didn’t know who he was. That he clearly wasn’t the fake John Smith that owned the place.
“Man?” she asked.
“Your name,” he repeated gruffly.
“Kierse,” she spat out. “My name is Kierse.”
“Is that short for Kirsten?”
She narrowed her eyes. “No,” she snapped. “It’s like Pierce but with a K.”
“Ah.” He hadn’t taken a seat. He still stood a few feet away, lording over her with that impenetrable fire. “You may call me Graves.”
“Graves?” she asked. “Like the thing you crawled out of?”
“Some do.”
“You’re not a human,” she accused.
He stared straight through her. “No, I’m not.”
She wanted to ask what kind of monster he was, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He clearly wanted her to ask. To find out what side of the Treaty he was on and whether or not he was going to kill her.
“You don’t look like much,” he finally said when she didn’t give in.
She gritted her teeth. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
He leveled her with an imperious gaze. “So, who are you?”
“You already know that: the person here to rob you.”
“Ah, perhaps.”
He slid his hand out of his pocket and produced the ring she had just risked her life to retrieve. She stared at it agog. How had he gotten it off of her? It had been secured in a secret inner pocket in the left side of her jacket, and he hadn’t frisked her. He hadn’t even gone looking for it. But she only let surprise show on her face for an instant before returning to her cocky, disinterested veneer.
“A lot of trouble for one ring,” he said, twirling it between his fingers like he would a coin.
“If you say so.”
“How did you get inside my home?” Graves asked, pocketing the ring once more.
She watched carefully as he put the ring back so that she knew where to retrieve it later. “Through the window.”
“Which window?”
“The one in the study.”
He pursed his lips and glanced away. As if he were contemplating the study very closely. No, almost as if he could see to the study beyond and retrace her steps. But of course, he couldn’t do that. No monster she knew of had that ability.
“How did you get past the security system?”
She nearly barked in laughter. “It was turned off.”
Graves’s head whipped toward her. “It certainly was not.”
“Maybe you should check it again, then.”
“I’m the security,” he all but growled.
“Then you’re shit at it.”
He smirked again. “Says the girl I apprehended with no effort.”
“Woman,” she bit back.
He conceded the point. “How old are you exactly?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask?”
He just arched an eyebrow as if to say you agreed to answer my questions.
She blew out a breath. “Twenty-five. Not much younger than you.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” he said, throwing her words back at her as he strode casually to a wet bar and poured himself a drink.
He brought the drink back over and offered it to her. Drinking with the enemy was a bad, bad idea. But either way, she couldn’t take it. Not with her shoulder in this condition.
“Oh, my apologies.” He looked smug as he said it.
He set the drink down. And then with reflexes she could hardly comprehend, he grasped her shoulder and knocked it back into place. No warning. Just perfect precision and a hard pop. She doubled over as pain lanced down her arm. She barely kept herself from crying out again.
“Better?”
She cleared her throat. “Can we just finish this interrogation?”
“Is that what we’re doing?” He held the drink out to her again and, when she still refused to take it, knocked back half of it. “Interrogations used to be a lot more fun.” Her eyes widened. What did that mean? “Fine. Who sent you?”
“I don’t give out names,” she told him. “I can’t answer questions that are going to ruin my career.”
He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. “Do you think that is the worst that will happen if you don’t answer my questions?”
