Radley's Home for Horny Monsters by Annabelle Hawthorne (best novels for teenagers .TXT) 📗

The fountain was flowing freely now, and several small birds were bathing in the upper basin. Naia, floating in the water, had one hand in the air with two small finches chirping happily to her on her fingertips.

“What are they saying?” Mike asked, setting down the toolbox. Naia’s fountain was clean, but the surrounding area had been covered in dirt and muck from her blowing out the lines and overflowing the fountain yesterday.

“They’re telling me about the visitors you had,” Naia said, giving her hand a flick. The birds took flight and landed in the basin to join their brethren. “You felt sick around them, yes?”

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“That touch of precognition I told you about. Those women were trouble, and I sensed your apprehension.” Naia rose, the water pushing her into a seated position. “What did they want?”

“They want to buy the place. They know something is up, because one of them kept trying to peek in the windows.”

“She wouldn’t have seen anything if she had. Unless you invite someone in, the geas protects us from outside observation. Tink could stand naked in the doorway of the house, and it would appear empty to them.”

“Spooky.” Mike sat on the edge of the fountain. “Yeah, when they wanted to come inside, I felt super uncomfortable.”

“That’s from the magic. Listen to it always.”

Mike nodded. “Don’t worry, I will. Oh, I talked with Cecilia. She didn’t shriek at me this time, and we chatted a bit. That was kind of cool, not having the shit scared out of me.”

“Emily always told me that Cecilia was very kind.”

“Yeah, well, it was nice to talk to her. Are all the monsters here like that? Are you all friendly?”

Naia shrugged. “I want to say yes, but I can’t be certain. It would make sense that we all respond well to being taken care of-this was meant to be our haven, our stronghold. Gone are the days when monsters roamed the world freely. For mankind, that’s a good thing. Several of us treated mankind as a food source, or our playthings.”

“Well, humans do the same thing to each other, actually.” Mike scowled at the water.

“Like your mother?”

Mike nodded. “In the worst way. I spent years thinking that she would one day love me back, accept me, show me kindness. I’m glad she’s dead, but that makes me feel bad, so it’s a cycle that can’t really be broken. I’ll never get that closure, so...” Mike waved his hands dismissively. “It is what it is.”

Naia sat next to Mike and ran her hands down his arms. “I can think of a way to take your mind off of it.”

Mike chuckled. “That sounds like an amazing offer, but if I’m going to take care of this place, I actually need to do some stuff first.” He pointed at the dirt surrounding the fountain. “This is just gross, by the way.”

“Trust me, I know. Having all of that stuck in the lines of my spring was like a sinus infection. Blowing it free was so refreshing.”

“Do nymphs get sinus infections?” Mike asked.

“No, but I’m inside your head. I know what one would feel like, lover.” She kissed his neck. “By the gate, there is a drain located beneath the bushes that leads out to the street. If you get a push broom, I’ll flood the place again, and you can try and push it all over there.”

“That’s a pretty good idea, actually.” Mike checked the garage and found what he needed almost right away. Tink may have squirreled away most of the tools, but the bigger things were all grouped together in their respective holders. He retrieved a large broom and stepped back into the garden.

Naia was doing her best impression of a leaf, floating in circles in the fountain as birds took turns landing on her fingers and chirping at her.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Not quite.” The statue tucked near the door had caught his attention again. “What do you know about this?”

“Not much. It’s buried in creeper vines.” Naia stood on the edge of the fountain. “It seems familiar though.”

“Yeah. I bought some clippers.” Mike pulled them from the toolbox. “I’ve always had a fascination with statues. When I was a kid, there was a park with a bunch of sculptures, and part of the park was surrounded by a lake. I would go out onto this little island that you got to by a footbridge, and sit beneath the statues there.” Mike examined the vines, then cut them near the base of the statue and began unwinding them. “We would move all the time, so whenever we were close enough to the park, I would stop by and just sit with them for a while. There was one set of statues, three figures standing and a space between them as if a fourth one was missing. Sometimes, I would stand in that empty spot, willing myself to turn to stone for a hundred years and see where mankind ended up.”

Mike worked quickly, cutting the vines free and peeling them off. It was almost half an hour before he had freed the statue from its leafy prison. It was a woman, head bowed and eyes closed. Her lower face and entire body were covered in a robe that clung tightly enough to her figure that he could run his hands across her breasts.

“Well?” Naia asked.

“Um, it’s a statue.” Mike moved away so she could see it. “She’s pretty, but whoever carved her didn’t feel like fucking around with details. Still, at least she’s freed from all this crap.” He tossed the vines into a pile. “What kind of plant is this anyway?”

Mike held the free end of one of the vines he had cut, scrutinizing the tiny leaves growing off of it. The garden was full of random shrubs and mostly dead flowers in pots, and they didn’t match the vine he held. Strangely, the vine didn’t