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"People tell themselves that sasquatches are the missing link or were put here by aliens. They tell themselves this so they don't have to admit sasquatches are really just monsters, because if monsters are real, that means vampires and werewolves are as well."

~The Travelers Guide to Yeti


The double wooden doors leading into our meeting room are ancient, brought from a site in Norway. Engraved into the wood are the Nordic runes of Uruz and Thurisaz. A slanted n and a thorn. Gateway and protection.

I unclench my fists, letting the plastic vial filled with Pribane drop deep into my bag. Xerxes and Yuri will be by Marcus, ready to act if needed and once they feel convinced that he's a yeti.

The Institute is quiet. I can't hear the cryptists on the other side of the door, and besides for the faint growl or bark from a creature down in the cells, the Institute feels empty.

I press my palms against the doors, one over each of the runes, which feel warm, but that may only be because my hands are sweating. With my hands pressed against the doors, I can't see them trembling. What will the cryptists on guard in the holding cells think when Xerxes and Yuri bring Marcus for them to lock up?

That only matters if they make it that far. Marcus could go on a killing spree.

It's like a hand closes around my heart. I shift, flexing my shoulders. He wouldn't do that, and even if he tried, Xerxes and Yuri will be ready.

I give the doors a hard push, and a smell of things past hits me. "Marcus." I say it before I have time to take in the room, before I have time to think and back out.

He turns away from Xerxes and Yuri and three cryptists, one of which is Meria, wrapped in her white fur coat with her purple aviator glasses pulled over her eyes. The ends of her glasses disappear into her red curls. Yuri meets my eyes and shifts his weight. Xerxes scratches his arm.

Our meeting room is a perfect cylinder—there's power in circles. It stretches nine stories up. Other cryptists and hunters lean over the railings on each floor, surely to see why I've interrupted Marcus's meeting. I'd say there's roughly thirty of them.

I catch Skol's eyes from where he stands on the fourth floor.

This room of technology and mythology is supposed to be our safe haven. Old bookcases filled with artifacts are pressed up against desks upholding computers and monitors. Some of these bookcases hold tokens that ancient civilizations believed would protect them. An Ankh from Egypt. Charms to ward of the Evil Eye. Crosses made from various materials like iron and wood.

Marcus tilts his head. "Leila." He's dressed in khakis and a light grey t-shirt. Marcus rarely leads a meeting without a suit or in the very least dress pants; he likes taking his time getting ready. His face shows none of the remorsefulness he wore earlier. I can almost imagine what I saw never happened.

I clench my jaw so he nor anyone else will see it shaking. It did happen. I'm a hunter, and he's a monster. He hired me to protect humans against yeti. Three years of being entwined in each other's lives can't mean anything, not when he's a monster I'm supposed to defend against.

I'm not armed, but the rest of the monster hunters are. I can't bring myself to hurt Marcus, but I'll make myself do my part and reveal what he is. Slipping my hand into my bag, my fingers brush over the smooth plastic of the vial.

"Did you want me to find out?" My voice comes out softer than I meant it to. "Is that why you've done all this?"

His expression turns wary. "Done what?"

"Hired me." I tighten my fingers around the vial and step back, looking up at the cryptists staring down at me. "You brought me here to do a job."

I meet Marcus's eyes for a fraction of a second until his eyes drop to my bag. They snap back up to mine. A muscle in his neck twitches. With each moment that passes, it becomes harder to remember him being the sasquatch and the man from only a couple hours ago. How can he, a yeti, have bought ten copies of my guide to sasquatches when my parents only told me congrats? Did he buy them for me or was it to get a laugh at me acting like an expert on a subject I now know I will never understand as much as he?

I frown and so does he. My parents never even asked me to sign a copy. Marcus made sure I signed every copy of the cryptists.

"Late much?" Roberto asks from the third floor. He leans against Sven whose purple hair hangs in oily ringlets.

Meria skulks past me, the fur of her coat brushing my covered arm. It's soft and carries with it a musky odor. She picks up a tome from a bookshelf and sinks into a chair with it. She turns to a page and leans back in the chair.

I ignore Roberto's jeer and glance at Yuri and Xerxes. Yuri's fingers twitch.

Marcus steps toward me, his arms open. "Leila, what are you talking about? Are you hurt?"

I force myself to remain in place and not flinch as his eyes scan me and his hands poke and prod me searching for injuries.

With my hand still buried in my bag, I flick the lid off the cap. "I will always love you." I meet his eyes and see my past and what could have been my future.

I withdraw the vial from my bag, and before he can react or I can decide otherwise, I splash the contents on his face.

The liquid hits true. There's not immediate anger on his face like I was expecting. His eyes are wide and his mouth parted. His nostrils constrict as he smells the liquid.

He stumbles back.

Xerxes and Yuri step forward.

Marcus's nose scrunches up, and his forehead wrinkles. Hair sprouts out of follicles all over his face. The hair on the top of his head and his eyebrows lengthens. The hair on his forehead goes up and over the top of his head as his skull is remolded. The rest of his body does not shift. His eyes do not change. They're the same eyes I've woken up to for three years.

Except now they look as if I've plunged a dagger into his heart.

Meria's tome hits the ground. The cryptists murmur and gasp and some go for their weapons, but seeing Xerxes and Yuri grab hold of his arms, they relax.

That expression in his eyes kills me. I'm sorry, I mouth.

He throws his head back and lets out a roar.

I flinch. The roar is full of pain, not anger.

With a nod from me to Xerxes and Yuri, they pull him past me toward the doors.

"Marcus, I'm so sorry." My voice only comes out as a whisper.

He keeps his head bowed. I expected him to struggle, put up a fight. Tonight is the night of the yeti. This is his night.

The hair covering his face falls to the ground in a pile. For a moment the back of his head is bald before a short layer of hair grows to cover it. It's all so fast. He twists, looking back. His eyes lock with mine, and I feel dizzy, nauseous. I've turned him in. But I had to. This is the only way to keep him safe.

Xerxes and Yuri freeze. They both shift on their feet as if they aren't sure what to do now that their boss is human again.

"I thought we were partners, Leila," Marcus says. "I wanted to tell you for so long, but I was scared about how you'd react." His eyes drop to the vial in my hands. "I see I was right to be." He turns away, and Xerxes and Yuri lead him through the rune-carved doors.

Once the doors shut, everyone crowds around me with questions. I don't hear what they are. Blood throbs in my ears, and my hands shake. The vial drops out of my hands and bounces as it clatters against the floor. I fall with it.

I saved him. I saved him. I chant it with each throb.

I screwed him over, but I saved him. I did what he hired me to do. There was a threat, and I took care of it.

Then why doesn't it feel like I did? Why don't I feel like I saved the day as the cryptist and monster hunter that I am?

From somewhere out and down in the hallways of the Institute, Marcus lets out another roar like a werewolf howling at its moon.

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