Page 32 of Of Monsters and Mazes

“Such a weird hang up.” I shrugged. “Well, since you’re such a gentleman, would you mind helping me find my panties? This skirt is a bit too short to reasonably go commando.”

I caught his eyes widening for the briefest second.

“I think I’ve helped you enough already.” He shook his head then broke eye contact again. He turned his back to me, and I tried not to laugh as I started digging through the bones for the tiny scrap of lace.

“Is it going to be a problem that you killed one of your uh… friends?” I wasn’t sure what to call the other monsters in this realm. Countrymen? Coworkers? Neighbors? Comrades? Bros?

“No one is friends with a Centimane.” He spoke harshly, while I kept digging.

“Will it heal? Come back to life? Are you guys immortal, or did you legitimately kill it?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and no.” His sigh was loud and irritated. “He’ll heal quickly enough, but with that much damage and my heat still radiating through him, it’ll probably take about a hundred years or so before he’s 100%. But he will wake up eventually, because we are, in fact, immortal here. The only way to actually kill a devil is to remove their own horns and stake them through the heart with them. Even that might not work if you don’t hit it exactly right.”

“Does it have to be your own horns or just any devil’s horns?”

“Our own. Otherwise, it would be too easy to just murder a lesser devil and use their horns to go on a psychotic killing spree. This way, you actually have to best that particular devil in order to kill them. Tartarus is a meritocracy, not an anarchy. Rank is solely determined by strength.” He always sounded bored when he explained things, yet I appreciated that he still took the time to do it.

“This thing doesn’t have horns though.” I scrunched up my nose in confusion, only to watch Theron’s telling gaze land on a sharp, boney dagger jutting out from what was once the site of the Centimane’s very melted dick. His eyes returned to mine without a word.

“Oh.” Was all I said in response.

As I at last found my panties stuffed in the eye hole of a skull, I slipped them on under my skirt while I pondered the challenge of ripping off Jericho’s horns to stab him with them. Then I remembered that he had curled ram horns, and I promptly threw that fantasy away. I wondered if that shape had contributed to him being king. I didn’t know how strong he was, but that inconvenient curling would definitely lessen the effectiveness of his horns being used as a dagger. His natural evolution seemed advantageous when murder methods had to be so specific.

Theron’s horns, conversely, swept straight back, following the shape of his hair. They would be totally useable stabbing tools. They even had a nice curve on one end to serve as a secure handle. You could really get a solid grip on those things and go to town.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He raised an eyebrow, and I responded with a nervous mix between a giggle and a cough.

“Like what?”

“Like… Homicidally.”

I snorted, but couldn’t deny that. “What does “homicidally” look like exactly?”

He smiled softly, his eyes narrowed just enough to make that grin wicked, and I watched his gaze follow my neck to my heart. He revealed a hint of his fangs as he honed in on my chest.

Nerves prickled down my spine, and heat radiated through the scars on my forearms. He didn’t say a word. Just stared at me like he wanted to shove his horns through my heart.

I choked on my own saliva. “It’s scarier when you do it.”

“Debatable.”

With that, Theron’s smile softened, and my heart thumped unexplainably. He patted me on the shoulder and turned towards the mouth of the cave. The platinum haired devil tipped the crown of his head towards the exit with a sense of invitation. “You coming?”

I shook my head to snap out of my thoughts, then scurried to his side. “How are we getting out of here?”

He chuckled. “Same way we came in.”

“I don’t think I can swim that far.” I flushed, embarrassed by my own inadequacy. I hated admitting I couldn’t do something, especially around a guy who was likely already looking down on me. I’d already failed to save myself. I’d become the damsel I’d never wanted to be, and it killed me inside to admit I was more fallible and human than I ever wanted to be. I must seem exceptionally pathetic when measured against a place like this.

But then again, a human man wouldn’t have fared any better. My fail point was my species, not my gender. I was holding myself to an impossible standard just like I always have. Anyone else in the world was allowed to need help, but I had to be superhuman and doing the most, or I was a disappointment.

“Yes you can.” Theron rolled his eyes, and that somehow had me taken aback. “If you survived the descent, you’ll survive the ascent. It’s always faster going up.” He paused, then added. “But that’s fine. Just hold onto me. You’ll be warmer that way.”

I stared at Theron for several extended moments, as he continued to the edge of the air bubble.

What was that vote of confidence for? And why did that whole statement feel so friendly and encouraging?

I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t afford to keep wasting time. With a thank you, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and I sunk into that natural heat of his that was unexplainably comforting. I tried not to think about my confused inner battle as he took us into the ice cold brine and started back towards the surface. Maybe I didn’t really hate this guy. Maybe he was just a victim of his circumstances. He was a devil, after all. I couldn’t hold him to the same cultural standards and expectations of the men in my world. Hell, he was already less of an asshole than half of them, even if I did.