She Came from the Swamp

A Steamy Monster Romance

Darva Green

Copyright 2022 © Darva Green.

Cover designed by Coralie Moss.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within articles or reviews.

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Contents

Content Warning

Case File: SFL28695

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Content Warning

Content Warning: This story is for ages 18 and up. It contains instances of the following: cursing, graphic sex, use of sex toys, emotional abuse from family members, a murder cult, a dead body, the death of a grandparent, and post-breakup sadness.

Case File: SFL28695

Location: {redacted}, Florida

Date: June 2021

Anomaly: A swamp-dwelling spirit. Based on the gathered evidence we believe the being to be a swamp kikimora or a babay of some sort.

Incident: All records of this encounter have been destroyed by a former intern.

Chapter One

My tires threw gravel as I hit the edge of the swamp preserve. I kept expecting to see the rocky peaks of mountains in my rearview mirror, but they were far behind me. I’d entered the marshy woods of Florida; my world was all scraggly white cedars and globs of green stuff floating on water.

New place, new me.

Ok, so it wasn't all new to me—I’d spent most of my childhood out here with my grandmother but hadn’t been home in nearly four years. I wasn’t the same girl who had spent countless evenings roaming through the wetlands barefooted.

Even the old familiar grove of orange trees that marked the line between Baba's property and the rest of the world seemed brighter than before. They didn’t have the same gray tinge to them that stuck in my memory and kept cropping up in my dreams. I didn’t want to think about the dreams, how this place seemed to call out for me when I slept.

But I had felt the urge to come home, and this was my fresh start. I could focus on my business and breathe easy without constantly checking to see if someone was following.

I had several paintings I wanted to finish before updating my online shop. Maybe I'd even Bob Ross some happy little orange trees in the background.

I could be content here, and I wouldn't need to worry about anyone I loved getting hurt. It would just be me and my weenie dog, Rocket. No one else could get sucked into the family drama, not when I’d left everyone I cared about behind in Colorado.

The path narrowed as I got closer to the little yellow house waiting for me. The lightness in my heart turned to stone when I saw the Jaguar F-PACE at the end of the driveway.

I hoped against hope that my cousin was just popping by to check the mail or something, but I knew he wouldn't have come this far for anything that casual. I knew he meant business when he swung his long legs out of his shiny SUV and dusted his palms against his crisp dress shirt.

An eyebrow quirked over his sunglasses in greeting, and I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel.

So much for new beginnings and happy little trees. I'd spent the last few months crisscrossing the country; one of my family members always popped up somewhere. It was silly to think their dislike of the swamp house would keep them away for long, but I’d hoped for a few nights of rest at least.

"Dez," he said, tapping on the window, "come on, I've missed you. I just want to talk."

"There's no way you drove three hours just to talk," I said, slamming the door behind me and walking past him to let my pup out. Rocket sniffed the ground and spun in circles at my ankles. "What do you want?"

Jared held his hands up. "Ok, ok. I do need a small favor, but I also wanted to be here to welcome you to your new home. Must be nice to know you were always our grandmother's favorite."

He was messing with me. None of my cousins wanted the swamp house. They all had gorgeous homes and cars, plus the money to change it up if they got bored. His lips twitched in a smug smile, and I took comfort in the fact that he was probably sweating his ass off in his fancy suit. He was pasty white like me—there was no hiding those flushed cheeks in this heat.

"It is nice." I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a debate over my inheritance. "You look like you need to be somewhere, and I'd like to unpack, so get to the point."

He shrugged and pressed the button to open the trunk of his SUV.

"Almost forgot," he murmured, pulling sleek black gloves from his pockets. My nostrils flared at the burlap-wrapped package he dropped at my feet. "Sorry, trying to be extra cautious. I’m sure you remember what to do."

He shot me a sheepish grin and rounded back to the driver's seat.

"Are you kidding me?"

"What? If you had bothered to peek in on his dreams like I asked you to, then you would have known he had it coming.”

I stared daggers back at him.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. I hated taking cash from anyone in my family, considering how they made their money, but two hundred dollars was two hundred dollars.

I folded it up and slid it into my sports bra without a thank-you.

"Alright, I can see that you're angry, but what else do you want from me?"

"I don't know, how about congratulations Dez, I've brought you a houseplant and a bottle of wine to celebrate? That would work. Or—wow, do you need some help with those boxes or disposing of the dead body I've just dropped in your front yard? That might be nice."

Jared laughed and stepped into the car. "Baba always used to use the garden cart when I was in a rush; she never wanted me to get my suit messy. Hey—you can feed him to that swamp thing you used to be terrified of. What’s it called?” He snapped his fingers to jog his memory. “The kikimora! I’m sure she’s all alone and very hungry now."

I stopped myself from shuddering at the image. The cousins always teased me with the story because they knew how much it scared me. I still had nightmares about the creature calling me to the swamp, but I would never let any of them know that.

"I can take a hint. I'll try to leave you out of the family business for a while.” He climbed into his car and rolled down the window. “But I’m not falling for the whole starving artist act. Call me when you’re ready to get to work. You have the most natural talent of all of us, but you need some training. Your future could be so much brighter than this."

He shook his head at the tiny home that seemed to sag into its surroundings and drove off before I could respond.

It was no use anyways, my family saw things differently, and my arguments had grown stale. If they wanted to use their abilities to murder evil people or climb the ladder, then so be it, as long as they left me out of it.

They’d have to stop pestering me eventually. Especially since they couldn’t hold the safety of the woman I loved over my head anymore. I swallowed hard.

I hoped that was the case.

I scooped Rocket up and watched Jared’s car kick up dust on the way out.

"Looks like it's just me and you now, bud. Home sweet home."

I glanced back at the burlap near my feet and sighed.

“I’ll get you taken care of. But first, I need to check on the house.”

* * *

My anxiety about the house’s neglect had grown during my road trip. In my dreams, vines and moss crept over the property, pulling it back to the soggy marsh. It had all been so vivid that I was surprised when the foundation didn’t sink beneath my feet as I crossed the threshold. Everything was pretty much the same as I remembered. From the sofa draped with a crochet blanket to the hand-embroidered flowers on the bedspreads—it all felt like home to me.

I took a deep breath and set my stuff down in the spare bedroom, the one that had always been mine. I could have taken the bigger room, but that had been Baba's, and it would take me some time to feel comfortable watching porn or breaking out my vibrator in the place where she'd faithfully prayed her rosary every night.

The bed groaned beneath me, and I pulled out my phone. I'd take care of everything else after I'd gotten some time to unwind. I scrolled through social media posts to see what my friends were doing. I'd been pretty quiet on there since I'd left, so I snapped a quick selfie of my hair fanned out against the sham-covered pillow and gave it a sappy caption about coming home.

Samantha commented with a pink heart a few minutes later, and I felt a sense of relief. We hadn't talked since we'd broken up, but I knew she still cared. I did too—otherwise, I'd still be in Colorado having the time of my life with her even though I knew it would put her in danger.

I used the interaction as a justification to look at her profile. I'd been avoiding it when I could, but I wanted to see her. Most of her recent pictures showed her at her kickboxing gym: her back and hips in full display as her leg curled ready for a roundhouse kick, her hands up near her face as she sparred with a student. I tapped on a square of her and a gorgeous blonde who was a pretty popular yoga instructor in Denver.

They looked happy.

I was happy for Samantha, but it was hard. I couldn't push the memories away—the way her nipples were always hard under her sports bra and how they tasted in my mouth—the feelings were too heady and powerful to ignore. I'd been trapped in the car for too long and exhausted from months of traveling and trying to figure life out. There'd been no break, no release. My fingers slid down past the waistband of my spandex shorts as I recalled how Samantha's body felt pressed against mine.

I gasped and drew back at Rocket's whining near the door. I pulled the pillow out from beneath my head and pressed it over my face to stifle a groan. The dog was right, jilling off to a memory that was still raw enough to sting was a bad idea—it always left me feeling terrible after, and I'd told myself plenty of times not to do it again.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I was past the point of crying. The feeling would pass, but I would never forget her sweet face or that body.

That body.

My eyes snapped open. I’d forgotten about the body.

I shoved my horniness aside and got out of bed. There were other things to tend to, like the unlovely housewarming gift my cousin had dropped off.

I pulled a light button-up over my ensemble of biking shorts and a sports bra to ward off the mosquitoes and slipped out the screen door to where the sun was setting. The air felt sticky enough to penetrate my clothes, and my hair stuck to the back of my neck, a sign that it had been too long since I’d cleaned up my pixie cut.

My family thought I lacked ambition and that my stocky build could be put to better use with their training, but I didn't see them lifting bodies on their own with ease. I crouched down and used the strength of my legs to heave the body onto the gardening cart and set out toward the swamp.

I breathed in the briny evening air; in the golden light I could pretend everything was alright, that I was just a normal loner of a woman living in her happy little swamp hut with her dog, content to paint nudes and work out. I was just like my grandmother—she'd been happy to crochet and ignore her abilities as well. I remembered everything she'd taught me about living a humble, happy life.

Keep the house tidy, mind your business, say your prayers, and bring your offerings to the swamp to keep the kikimora happy.

A chill ran up my spine. Jared’s joke about the monster had gotten to me. That was why I was so tense all of the sudden.

I kept walking until I got to the edge of the swamp, where my feet began to sink in at the soggy edges. I rolled the body to the side and nudged it in with the toe of my hiking boot. The whole package plopped in with a splash that sprayed droplets against my bare legs, causing me to jump back.

I really was on edge.

"How’s that for an offering?"

I knew full well that whoever my cousin had wrapped up wasn't the kind of person anyone would want as a gift. He only used his abilities to get rid of the worst kind of people. It certainly wasn’t a nice offering like the scraps of ham or tea cakes Baba and I used to toss into the water after a picnic.

I thought of the odd lore surrounding the kikimora and how the spirit was associated with monstrous forms and nightmares—dead bodies seemed a more appropriate offering than sweets and salty treats if you asked me.

I stood there long after the body had sunken down into the murky depths of the water, until the sky was blotted blue and sparkling with stars and the yellow spots of lightning bugs. It was my favorite time to be outside. I followed the flashing light of one of the bugs as it floated over the swamp.

A small plunk in the water drew my attention away long enough that I lost sight of the tiny creature. It was time to turn back. Larger, more dangerous creatures lurked out here at night too.

As terrifying as a kikimora was, it didn't exist. Gators were what you really needed to be afraid of. Snakes were no joke either.

The cattails at the far side of the water rustled, and I squinted to see out in the darkness. I couldn't make out any ominous shapes in the shadows, but the plants swayed without wind.

A small blue light shone behind the vegetation and went out. That was weird. I looked over my shoulder, feeling like someone was watching me. That would be bad, very bad considering what I’d just dropped in the water.

I pulled my button-up tighter around me and walked back to the house as fast as I could without letting my footsteps sound heavy. I kept glancing back at the swamp, afraid that weird blue light might appear closer.

Chapter Two

I couldn’t shake the creeps I'd gotten from the swamp. Somehow the gators and the isolation always made the house feel safer than anywhere else I'd ever lived, but tonight things felt off.

Maybe it was the body; I’ve heard that dealing with death could do shit to your psyche. That wasn’t it though—as much as I hated getting involved with my family’s business, it was hard to feel bad for someone who’d been involved with the kind of evil Jared took care of.

My conscience was clean, but I needed to move my mind away from how unsettled I felt, so I went rummaging in Baba’s pantry.

There were still non-perishables and canned goods lining the shelf. I moved things around until I pulled out a handful of strawberry candies and an unopened package of gummy edibles. Tears pricked behind my eyes; these had been in the last package I’d sent her. I popped a couple of them in my mouth. They’d been her favorite way to ease the pain at the end.

I didn’t want to think about that or creepy things in the swamp anymore. I went to my room and pulled out my laptop, fluffing up the blankets at the bottom of the bed for Rocket.

I opened my emails and got to work. I would set up my altar and do my nighttime ritual once I changed my P.O. box address and sent some invoices. The ritual was important—my ability to walk through dreams left me prone to nighttime visitors from across the veil. Putting walls up was one way to ward them off—but it was easier to do when I wasn’t anxious or overwhelmed.

A few hours later my eyes burned from the glow of the screen. I pressed my palms over my heavy lids. I wanted to fall back against the pillows and call it a night, but I still needed to light my candles and meditate at the altar.

“I’m never going to procrastinate again,” I lied to myself for the millionth time.

I shot upright at a crackling noise coming from the living room. My mouth went dry, but I couldn’t just sit there. I pulled the covers off and jumped out of bed.

I got to the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner. A vinyl album spun and skipped in Baba’s old record player. I stepped closer as the needle dropped into the right spot and a familiar song began to play.

It was all eerie shushing sounds and an ominous drum solo. My stomach flipped over when the name of the song registered: it was Pink Floyd’s Careful With That Axe, Eugene.

That song had always made me nervous; I hated when my aunts played it. I looked around. Whoever was here knew how I felt about it.

Someone was messing with me.

Just as the song was about to hit the blood-curdling scream I was dreading, the needle scratched and lifted with a realization that tore a hole in my reality: I was dreaming and whoever had wandered into my subconscious knew enough about me to pull out the things that unnerved me the most.

Even more worrisome—they knew enough about the house to make it look real to me.

I pushed at the seams of my dream, but I felt slow like I was a kid in a nightmare who couldn’t run.

I was stuck.

Another sound filled the silence where the vinyl left off. It wasn’t like anything I’d heard on the radio, but I could have sworn I’d heard it before.

The screen door leading to the back of the property opened and shut with the wind, and the sound grew louder. I had heard it before; it was a sound that had permeated the walls I put up and played in the background of my dreams.

It came from the swamp and called sweetly to me.

I followed. It was my only way out.

* * *

I made it through the dark to the bank of the swamp. The melody was cut short with a gurgling sound, and I felt a sudden void in the pit of my stomach at the absence of the song. The bog water bubbled before me. I crouched down, my hair falling into my eyes.

The water rippled toward me, and the shadow of a large figure blotted the already dark depths to an inky black. Fear shot through me, but I still couldn't run. I was terrified, and yet, strangely curious enough to want to find the siren who had called to me with that eerie song.

A large claw that resembled a tree root gripped the marsh bank, and I stumbled back; it was all I could do as the figure emerged from the water.

A woman—no, a creature, stood two steps from me. It was hard to tell in the dark, but where the moonlight shone on her skin I could see that it took on the hue of pale seagrass. Water dripped from her seaweed hair and down the prominent structures of her collarbones. I followed the path of those water droplets all the way down to her tits.

I tried to look away, but they were so round, so lovely, and unlike anything I'd ever seen before where her dark green nipples were caught in the wild tangle of her hair.

She laughed softly as I sucked in my breath. Her fingers—most of them unfurling into vines edged with leaves, except for her middle and index digits that were capped with sharp black claws—drew a line from the mossy thatch at the apex of her thighs to ends of her hair which she parted.

The movement revealed a face full of sharp features—a wide open mouth of emerald lips framing too many razor-sharp teeth and glowing eyes that were cobalt all the way through.

"So you’re what’s kept me here waiting," she hissed into the night. I shivered at the sound, the hollow ringing of her voice was the noise that had worked its way into my dreams these past few months.

“I don’t know what you mean.” It can be hard to speak coherently in a dream you don’t have control over, but I managed.

Despite the goosebumps that prickled across my skin, I made my way to my feet. I wanted to move closer to her even though every one of my instincts screamed to run. She was so horrifically beautiful that I felt compelled to touch her, to feel her slick skin beneath my hand.

She studied me as I kept my eyes glued to her, completely fascinated. I needed to get a grip. People can be impulsive in dreams, and I wasn’t doing a great job of controlling my urge to stare.

“You really don’t understand, do you?”

“No.”

“Interesting creature,” she cooed. “I did not appreciate the offering you left for me.”

The body. Shit.

“Sorry.” What? Things were really getting out of hand if I was apologizing to the monster lady who was steering my dream.

“Perhaps you’d like to offer me something else?”

“Yes.”

Definitely out of hand. But I wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want to. This was desire without the usual constraints of reality. Dreams are strange like that.

I had to crane my neck to look at her—she was tall, like seven feet tall—and although she had a willowy build, I knew without a doubt she could easily pick me up and toss me in the swamp and I'd fucking love it.

I closed the space between us, and she brought one of those leaf-tipped fingers to the hollow of my throat, dragging the branch of the digit up the column of my neck until my chin tipped up enough to look her in the eyes.

"How sweet. You've finally come back to visit me," she said, her tongue flicking along the edges of her teeth. She brought me in close and smoothed her free hand down my back to my ass. "So soft and warm, so easily broken, but you like this don't you?"

Even in my dream, the compliments she whispered snaked into my soul. No one ever called me soft, not after they’d checked out these guns. But I liked it; I wanted to feel delicate even if I was tough on the outside.

"I do like it," I whispered, pulling myself in closer.

"Then have a taste."

I stood on my tip-toes and brought my hand to one of her large breasts. Her skin felt slippery as I stroked my thumb over her hard nipple and brought it to my mouth. She leaned into me, her wet seaweed hair falling over my shoulder and wrapping me tighter. I pulled back, needing to release some of the pressure building between my legs, but her hands moved up to my shoulders and she pushed me away.

A wicked grin slashed her face. "Not tonight, I haven't gotten to toy with you enough yet."

She brought the sharp claw of her index finger to the space between my nose and my upper lip and pressed down. "Now forget, until I call you back."

* * *

I woke up practically humping my sheets, pressing into nothing. I flipped onto my belly and gripped my blankets tight between my legs—they were all bunched up, and if I rocked my hips slowly against the tangled mass I'd be sure to come in a few minutes.

It seemed strange that I couldn't remember what had gotten me so close to the edge. Usually, I could recall my dreams in vivid detail—it was a perk of having enough psychic ability to walk through the dream realm.

I decided to lean into it anyways; the tension was coiled tightly enough that I was sure I could conjure some sexy image on my own to take me the rest of the way.

I slipped my hand beneath my cotton shorts to dip my fingers down to my swollen folds. I started to draw slow circles around my clit as I tried to think of some fodder for my imagination.

Strange images flooded my mind: a sleek silhouette with seaweed for hair. Sharp teeth and a thick sharp tongue I wanted to feel against my skin.

I hadn't been this turned on in months, but whatever dream I'd had made me want to get pinned down next to the swamp while I got licked out by some creature that had crawled out of the bog.

As if I didn't already crave impossible things.

I resisted the urge to pull away from the thought; instead, I kept going with it, working myself into a fever pitch with the bits I was beginning to remember about the figure from my dream—mostly how I wanted to taste whatever was hiding behind the bit of moss gathered between her thighs. I came hard against my hand and the tangled sheets, my breath ragged.

I closed my eyes, about ready to give in to the sleepiness that came with an epic orgasm, but I touched my hair and realized it was wet at the ends. I sat up, peeling my t-shirt away from my skin. There were wet spots all down my front. It had to be the humidity, I thought even though there was a box fan blowing cool air three feet from my head.

My mind began to spin with questions, and I shut them all down. It was just a weird dream. Sometimes edibles just hit me funny. It happened.

Not to me though, I knew too well what lurked on the other side of the shadows when I let myself wander too much in dreams. I wasn't like the rest of my family; I preferred to keep that door locked when I could help it.

The thing was—I couldn't help it sometimes. I knew I needed to take measures to protect myself before I could fall asleep again—I could light a few candles and meditate at least. If I went to sleep with my guard down, sometimes it left me vulnerable to bad shit creeping in.

I rubbed my hands over my face and stumbled toward my unpacked bag in the dark. "Ew, what the—" I shrieked as my foot connected with something wet. I scrambled for the light switch.

My heart thudded against my ribs at the sight—puddles of muddy water splattered the floor. Yes, I was prone to vivid dreams; dreams in which spirits or lost souls tried to reach out to me even, but I had never once left my bed. But if I hadn’t this time—then I wasn't as alone here as I thought I was.

I swallowed at the thought. It wasn't like I could risk cops coming out here, considering there was literal murder evidence in my backyard. I had to deal with the problem on my own. I latched my door and pulled the baseball bat from my closet. As I set it down by the bed, I caught a glimpse of something in the mirror—a scratch just above my upper lip.

"Now forget, until I call you back."

I brought my fingertips to the small wound. I hadn't forgotten. I wasn’t alone.

Chapter Three

I had to get out of the house. After a night of crappy sleep filled with sexy swamp dreams and anxiety, I decided I needed some time to get set up properly. My worries diminished with the daylight; I figured my lack of real food after nine straight hours in the car would make for a rough night for anyone. I spent the day trying to find a nearby gym I vibed with, and then I hit the grocery store so I could at least have vegetables wilting away in the crisper like a responsible adult.

I stopped near the swamp, the bags still hanging around my forearms, and tossed a cookie into the water. I waited for the creature from my dreams to rise to the surface, looking for more. The cookie sank and nothing happened.

I felt disappointment where I should have felt relief.

“Well, hope that’s a better offering for you,” I called out as I started my way back to the house. “Stay out of my dreams.”

Baba would have been proud of me; I had all the ingredients to make vareniki like we used to. I went full steam ahead with the nostalgia in the kitchen; I threw myself into rolling out the dough and making the pockets to fill with cheesy-potato goodness before frying them up in a pan with some onions. I even whipped up a simple butter cake because I’d need something sweet. Rocket ran around the kitchen and begged for a bit of the cheese that sat uncovered on the counter.

Now it smelled like home. All that was missing was a hint of furniture polish. I bit my lip. Tidying up the house would be a good distraction. I wouldn’t have to think about that creature, the kikimora.

More importantly, I wouldn’t have to think about why I felt more curious than afraid.

My grandmother’s room was untouched; the pale pink carpet still had vacuum patterns across it when I stepped into the room. I had dreaded going through her things when I'd first heard that I'd been the one to inherit the house, but now that I was there, I was dying to touch the items she'd worn. She would have wanted me to put her things to good use. I made separate piles: to keep or to give away and ended up tossing most of her clothes in the one I'd mentally labeled as give away, but my hand stilled above a baby-doll slip of a nightgown. I picked it up and unfolded it in front of my chest so I could see it in the mirror.

It wasn’t my usual style, but I could appreciate its retro charm. I was sure it didn't fit the way it was designed to, considering I was all muscle where Baba had soft curves, but I liked the way it hugged my thick thighs and how the straps pulled against my shoulders. This one was a keeper.

I kept it on as I made my way to start my nighttime ritual early. I'd need to be more vigilant about it; I knew well enough that big life changes tended to make my dreams a more vulnerable place. Still, I checked the locks and put a chair in front of my door before I set up my altar and took the time to quiet my mind for sleep.

I lit the candles set up between crystals and icons I felt drawn to—they ranged from the goddess Morana to the Madonna. Then it was time to close my eyes and focus on prepping my mind, to keep out the dark spirits that roamed at night.

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in my surroundings: the crisp bed and the curled-up pup. I reminded myself that I was home and it was ok to go to sleep. I pulled the covers around me and didn't let my mind wander to anything except the idea of sleep.

* * *

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of something creaking down the hall. At least I thought I heard something. I stayed completely still as the seconds ticked by and I heard nothing—the house was completely silent aside from Rocket's snoring. It was no wonder I couldn't sleep for shit with that noise. He was lucky he was so cute.

I pulled my phone out from under my pillow, and the time read 1:08. I did a quick social media check, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. I thought of the food waiting in the fridge. If I couldn't sleep I thought I might as well enjoy a midnight snack.

My shoulder bumped into the doorframe to the kitchen, and something wooden clattered to the ground.

"Ah! What the fuck, Baba," I muttered, picking up the one of the besoms she kept near the entryways of the house. I was always knocking them off the wall by accident, and I didn't want to fiddle around with putting it back into its upside-down position, so I stood it up against the wall.

I hummed a tune as I pulled out a plate of vareniki, bumping the door shut with my hip. The song caught in my throat when I realized where I had heard it.

That dream from the night before. I swallowed down the note I was on as I remembered the tune and how it had bubbled up from the swamp water, how the sound had come from that sharp lovely mouth.

I set the plate down too hard on the island, and my stomach turned as I peeled back the foil cover. Green lines of mold traced their way over the dumplings I had cooked up mere hours ago. A breeze picked up outside, lifting the latch of the screen door so it creaked on its hinges. I looked to the besom on the floor, remembering my grandmother's old words of wisdom: Hang a broom upside down to keep unwanted visitors out.

It was something I'd brushed off as one of the wives tales she was always spouting off; the blend of Ukrainian lore and Catholic canon that infiltrated her life lessons, but looking at it now, I felt compelled to pick it up and place it back to the way she kept it.

I was on night number two of living in the middle of nowhere, and it was already getting to me. I fixed the broom on the nail. I'd always thought my grandmother’s practices to keep the home safe and blessed were borderline silly, but maybe she was onto something if there was a swamp monster lurking in the backyard.

I sighed. Maybe the potatoes were rotten; there had to be a logical explanation for my dinner going bad so fast. I'd probably be puking the next morning or dead from botulism or whatever, but for now, there was still cake to eat.

I lifted the lid to the cake dish. The sickly-sweet smell of rot drifted up where I’d been expecting honey-buttery goodness. Fuzzy bits of green blotched with blue speckled the sides of what had been my golden butter cake.

I scooped the nasty loaf in my hands and thought of the stories Baba had told me about the kikimora. She'd said that seeing one in person was terrifying; that her presence foretold unfortunate events, that she would sit on your chest and cause sleep paralysis and terrible dreams, that she'd come to your house and spoil your food, all while leaving wet footprints all over the place.

Baba had also told me that I needed to keep the house tidy and follow the rules because one lived out back in the swamp, but I thought that was something she'd told me to keep me in line when she had to raise my wild self all on her own. I bit my lip.

Of course, I knew there were sects of paranormal beings walking the Earth, but the idea that a malevolent swamp creature lived in our backyard waiting for snacks was laughable.

Except now I wasn't laughing. I wasn’t getting any sleep and my cake was ruined. I slipped on my shoes and stepped out into the night, the first breath of the hot Summer nights coating my skin in its humidity. I stomped to the edge of the swamp and stopped.

"Hey, if you're out there come get your offering," I shouted, picking out chunks of wasted cake and throwing them into the swamp. "We don't mess with the cake."

My words dissolved into the night, and I felt the emotional toll of the past few months settling on my shoulders. I had been hanging out at my breaking point for so long that a little bit of food rot was enough to send me over the edge. I was standing outside in silky lingerie yelling at a swamp monster I was terrified of as a kid.

I heaved out a sigh as the last bit of the cake sank out of sight. I needed to get it together; I couldn't run back to my circle of friends in Colorado without risking their safety. I held my hands up to my face and groaned into my palms.

I had to do this alone; it didn't matter if I didn't want to be a part of the family business—I couldn't outrun the inherited danger, and that wasn't fair to anyone else I cared about. There was no pretending to be normal for me; I’d tried that, and people had died. I wouldn't let that happen to Samantha or anyone else.

I gathered my breath and turned back to the house. A gurgling sound rose from the water, stopping me in my tracks. I turned back to see something floating near the waterline, then it began to rise.

Two eyes glowed bright cobalt above the surface of the water. Tendrils of seaweed fanned out on the ripples. I was frozen to the spot, just like in my dream. But now it wasn't that slow dreamlike state that gave me pause—it was perverted curiosity. I wanted to see this thing that rose from the bog; to see what those long vines of green were covering when the figure fully emerged.

I should have been scared, and maybe I was, but it wasn't enough to break the string of attraction that pulled me to the movement in the swamp.

Something snapped beside me, breaking me from my trance. I barely had time to process another creature, a scaled reptile, approaching from the overgrown swamp weeds when a shadow blurred past me in a breeze that lifted my hair. The gator rolled several yards away with a bellowing grunt, and something even larger took its spot next to me.

Seaweed draped down the kikimora’s back where she knelt on the grass, facing the large reptile. The hissing voice I'd heard in my dream rose above the sound of the bullfrogs and the crickets to say something I couldn't comprehend. The gator seemed to understand it though, as it gave a loud chumpf and scrambled into the water.

I should have run but that sick curiosity of mine—it was incurable. The kikimora got up, the swing of her hip visible beneath the hair that swayed as she stood and faced me. Her bright blue eyes bore into me as I tried to think of what to say.

"Thank you," I croaked, instantly regretting the words and my lack of common sense when those eyes cut to narrow slits. In a split second, she had me cornered with my back to the swamp willows that lined the marshy bank.

Chapter Four

Welp, that was that. I’d lived a nice life. Sure, it was a little weird, but dying because I was too horny to run seemed a fitting end for me.

The corners of the creature's mouth pulled back, showing razor-sharp teeth. Up this close I could see that it was more of a maw than a mouth; one that could take several large bites of me.

"What are you doing out here, Nadezhda?"

My hair stood on end at the sound of my name on her rattling tongue. I had to fight to keep myself from shaking under her touch.

“You left footprints in my house and destroyed my food. I came out to tell you to stop toying with me.”

“You could have died out here wandering around like that.”

She drew her hand back, and I found myself missing the threat of her touch. What did she care if I died?

My thoughts were cut off with a touch from her clawed index finger. The sharp pressure beneath my chin was a marked contrast from the damp leaves that dripped down my chest. As if she sensed me noticing something soft about her, she pressed harder, and I felt the sharp branch of her finger behind the foliage.

"I wasn’t going to toy with you," she said with a wicked grin, "but you keep provoking me with your little offerings."

"The cake would have been much nicer if you hadn't spoiled it." I couldn't keep my stupid snark to myself, even in the face of death.

"You tossed me those garbage cookies. We both know you weren't going to share the good stuff, Nadezhda."

My chest began to rise and fall with my quickening breath as she dragged her claw down to my cleavage. There was a traitorous pulse between my legs at how intense the pressure of her movement was—deep enough to feel a bite of pain but not so hard that she'd draw blood or leave a scratch. A low groan escaped my lips.

"What do you want from me?" I leveled my gaze back at her. "Tell me what kind of an offering you want; I'm sure I can bring you something worthy."

She bent at the waist to bring her face close to my ear. I felt her hot breath at my neck. "Oh, I know what I want, but I'm going to savor every moment of the offering I take from you."

My head felt dizzy. She stretched her willowy arm back toward me, and I wanted her to touch me, to make me wild with desire sharpened by fear and curiosity.

I thought her touch would land on my lips, but instead she began to press toward the space above my Cupid's bow. I grabbed her wrist. No one could call me fragile, but it took all my strength to keep her from touching the scratch.

"What the hell," I grunted. "Not again."

Her arm went limp in my grip. "What do you mean, not again?"

"Don't pretend you weren't wandering through my dreams. You told me to forget, but your trick didn’t work. I saw you there."

She blinked at that—a dark flash blotting out the vivid glow of her eyes, so quick I almost missed it.

"Stronger than I thought,” she whispered to herself. Before I could ask her to elaborate, she growled, "How much do you remember?"

"All of it."

The heat of the night hung between us. She was a deadly creature; I couldn't deny it, but I also couldn't deny the fact that I wanted to look again. I swept my eyes down over her tall figure—the slick vined skin and those curves peeking through the curtain of her hair. She dropped her chin like she was self-conscious that I was looking so intently.

I remembered looking at her like that in my dream, and I wanted her to know it.

"You were never supposed to see me like this. I only wanted to slip into your dreams and see who had kept me bound to this place when I was supposed to be gone, but you’re making trouble around here already.” I made a choked noise. I had no idea what she was talking about. I was intrigued, but too afraid to interrupt. “If you remember all of it, then there's no point in sending you back to bed, is there?"

She stepped forward until my back was pressed against a tree; she was in charge here. I liked a good challenge, but there was no way I could meet the challenge of a monster who could so easily overpower me.

I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try though.

"You could try sending me back to bed." Cautiously, I pressed my hips forward, and she hissed out a breath. I liked how surprised she was by my boldness. "But maybe you should join me there. I think I have something better than scraps."

A low growl rumbled in her chest, reminding me that she was the predator in this swamp. Even the gator had listened to her. She twined her hand in my hair and pulled my head back against the tree. My throat was exposed, and my body shook involuntarily at the harsh gesture.

"I'll have it here," she snarled and brought her bared teeth to my neck. Her tongue—serpentine in nature—flicked across the pale skin there. My lower body clenched at the touch against the sensitive spot below my jawline. Her eyes closed, the bright glow of them disappearing in the shadow of the night as she traced her way down my chest, her tongue dabbing at my skin and tasting me down to where my neckline plunged.

She hooked a finger there and toyed with the lace piping of the nightgown. My nipples grew hard, and my breasts ached to be touched. I arched my back and let out a little sigh. Twenty minutes ago I had thought I was losing my mind, and now I was giving myself to a creature I’d feared my whole life.

Maybe I was losing it, but it was in the best way possible.

"This looks familiar," she said, pulling me from my thoughts. My eyes shuttered open. She was stroking the silk of the dress.

"It was my grandmother’s," I murmured, my thoughts churning. "Wait—was this the kind of offering she made?" I straightened up against the tree trunk and felt my shoulders hunch forward protectively. That would be so gross.

The kikimora made an odd sound. She was laughing.

"Oh. Oh no." Her shoulders shook. "I followed your family here for vengeance. It took me years to ally with your grandmother, but that's a long story."

My ears pricked up, I wanted to hear more.

"We have time," I coaxed her.

"Not tonight, not when you're so eager for me to touch you here. You are so soft, so lovely," she whispered in that harsh voice of hers.

Her fingers slipped beneath the straps of the nightgown, and she eased the neckline down below my nipples. They stood out, hard and pink. I felt exposed in the night air, even if no one could see us out here.

"I've never had a human offer their body, not when I'm in my true form," she said, circling one nipple with her middle finger, the soft leaves tickling my skin in the wake of the pressure. “You’re strange, looking at me with those doe eyes like you’re afraid and yet, you don’t run.”

I threw my shoulders back. I felt an urgent need for more. "Please."

"Greedy little thing, but I suppose we don't have the years I need to take my time and tease you every night before I finally take you to my altar." She knelt to the soft earth and snaked her tongue down to my breast, circling the muscled-roundness in slow turns until I was in agony.

Her mouth opened, and her teeth grazed against the fullest part of my breast. My skin pebbled with goosebumps when she sucked the pink tip into her mouth. Her tongue worked against the hard bud while she wrapped one hand behind my back and traced the other to my free tit. She drew back and let out a breath before she brought her lips to the other side.

I separated my feet, creating some space between my legs in hopes that she'd work her way down to the apex of my thighs, where I was aching and swollen. My knees shook with want, and she gave a smug hum of pleasure before she drew back.

She licked her lips and smiled.

"Now go back to bed."

"What?" I said, pushing myself away from the tree as she backed away from me. "Why?"

Wow, I sounded desperate, and maybe I was, but I had never been so turned on only to be left high and dry.

"Because I’m not sure what I’m doing here, or why I bothered to jump in to rescue you."

That made two of us.

She laughed but didn’t sound like she was happy. "Tomorrow night. Come back with an offering and we’ll talk."

Just talk?

I was about to protest and tell her I wouldn’t come back after her, but she dropped her blue gaze to the damp spot between my legs and flicked her tongue against the air. I was bare beneath my slip, and there was no way she hadn’t scented my arousal. I could say I wouldn't come tomorrow night all I wanted—she'd know it was a lie.

Chapter Five

I sat before the altar I’d set up on my vanity—the mirror was covered with a pink sheet, and the candles were lit with wax dripping down their sides already. I couldn’t concentrate.

I tried to imagine the walls coming up around my mind. They needed to be sturdy if I didn’t want a wandering ghost or demonic entity floating through, but every time I thought I’d set up a solid fortress it would all crumble when my mind began to wander. I opened one eye and watched the light from the candles dance around the room.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a certain monster coming after me tonight, I thought.

My emotions played a big role in how safe my dreams were from nighttime visitors—heartache or a bad day of anxiety usually meant an uneasy night of rest. I wondered what it would mean if I went to bed feeling so hot for a monster that was known to prowl through nightmares. I got up and blew the candles out, all except one, so I could read the labels on my jars of herbs.

I pinched out bits of dried rose leaves and sprinkled them into a small copper offering dish. I used the candle to light the kindling I’d made and set my attention to the smoke curling up into the dark.

“Burn for me like I am burning for you. Visit me like I know you want to,” I whispered to the flames. This was a summoning.

I wasn't sure why I was inviting danger to my bed, or if it would even work, but I was excited. For once I wanted to see if I could push the boundaries of my talents and use them for something I would enjoy. This wasn't a lost ghost looking for a soul to cling to, or a demonic force trying to drag me off to some unreachable place; this was a creature who had touched my soft spots and ended up just as curious as I was.

She didn't want to hurt me; I felt that in my bones. I meant something to her, alive.

I curled up in bed and let myself slide back into the dream world I usually worked so hard to resist.

The room around me was shrouded in a haze when I came through to the other side. I picked up the book on my nightstand and flipped it open, scanning the pages before I took a look around the bedroom again. I brought my eyes back to the pages and saw that the words had changed and blurred together—it was a tip I'd learned to make sure I was asleep—sometimes it can be hard to tell when you're used to lucid dreaming.

On my vanity the candles all burned, and the pictures I kept on display looked different but only slightly; my dream room was nearly the same as the one I'd fallen asleep in. I had found my way in. Now I only had to lure the kikimora to me.

I pressed the soles of my feet together and let my knees fall out to the sides, butterfly style. The hemline of my nightgown hitched up at the movement, and I traced my fingers down to the skin left exposed. I started lightly stroking my fingertips up my inner thighs and let myself enjoy the sensation. Everything in a lucid dream can feel more intense when you lean into it. Grief is always worse, anger gets explosive, but lust, well, with lust you'll be left fantasizing all day if you wake up too soon.

I slipped my fingers to my folds and parted them, my pressure still gentle as a familiar tingling grew between my legs.

I was drawing it out, nice and slow, not just because I wanted to linger in this dreamy state for a while, but because I didn't want the kikimora to miss it. I pictured her—those long slender legs and her slick skin. I thought of her tongue lashing out at me, and how I wanted more. I called to her in my mind, a silent plea to join me here, to take what I owed to her.

A moan slipped out between my lips as I brushed over the swell of my clit.

My low cry must have been a summoning call, because the bedroom door shook and blurred at the edges, the flames of the candles flashing black before returning to gold with the sudden disturbance of my dream. The door flew open, and my surroundings shook with static fuzz; the solid structures of my dream dissolved around me as a figure appeared through the ether.

It wasn't the kikimora I'd been trying to summon; I could tell by the protruding horns and the broad set of shoulders that this was a different creature entirely, and I didn’t like the vibes it was putting off.

I wasn't sure what I'd called to me, but I knew I needed to banish it—and fast. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to refocus my efforts to rebuild my dream so that I was in full control.

Footsteps stomped toward me, shaking my resolve. The movement stopped with the sound of a hiss. I opened my eyes, my room materializing in a fuzzy way. The horned creature, covered in thick red scales, turned toward the left, where a willowy figure leaned in the doorframe.

The kikimora stood there as if the beast she faced wasn't much larger than herself. She stretched out her hand and muttered a low incantation in a foreign language that sounded vaguely familiar. In mere moments, the other creature dropped to its knees and vanished.

The woman of my nightmares turned her gaze to me.

"You fool, you woke up the sex demons with your—" she stopped herself, and I swallowed, slightly embarrassed that in the dreamy chaos I hadn't had the time or focus to snap my legs shut. Her eyes dropped to the spot I'd been stroking when I was so rudely interrupted—my wet cunt on full display for her.

"With your antics," she finished her sentence, but the glow of her stare stayed glued to the spot I was desperate to touch again.

"Why don't you keep guard if you want to watch?"

* * *

She hissed out a breath, her tongue flicking the air, and I knew what she tasted there—I could tell by the way the orbs of her eyes narrowed to slits and her nostrils flared. I held myself open for her with the forking of my middle and index fingers, taking my free hand up to rub across my pink slick skin.

She threw her head back, her eyes cast down, still watching.

"You like to watch, don't you?" I teased. "You tossed a demon back to Hell just to watch me touch myself?" I asked as I pressed firmly against my clit in a few quick circles. "Do you want to have me here, or should I keep going like this? Tell me what you want."

In one swift movement, she was at the foot of the bed, her hands like branches pushing at my shins until my heels were up against my ass.

"I want it all," she said, pinching the fabric of my slip between her fingers. She grasped tight but pulled the hem up gently, so as to not rip the thin material, leaving me bare from just below my nipples to the tips of my toes that were pushed against her thighs where she knelt on the bed.

"Good girl," she crooned, running her hands down my stomach to the top of my mound. She leaned forward to drop her chin to rest in the space between my knees. She kissed them apart—or as close to kissing as she could get with that wide maw of hers, running her lips down the soft skin until I splayed myself open again. Her mouth stayed open right where she hovered over my entrance, and I felt the uncanny quality of her breath—hot and warm, yet still unlike any human partner who'd gone down on me before. With my senses heightened by the dream, I wanted to feel the different texture of her against me, to throw myself into all the feelings.

With a small flick, her tongue made contact with me, and I bucked back instinctively at the new sensation. Her hands held fast around my hips, refusing to let me take an inch away from her. She chuckled, her tongue tickling at my thighs.

"You're not going anywhere, I haven't gotten a good taste of you yet."

She tugged me closer to her open mouth and started again. My stomach clenched at the feeling of her tongue at first, but then I sighed and tipped my head back as she began to work in a rhythm. The more I relaxed into it, the more the movement of her serpentine tongue felt like a feature I'd love in a vibrator.

I let out a slow moan, and she pushed the flat of her tongue hard against the button of my clit, washing over it in broad strokes. My orgasm was building quickly, and it occurred to me I had never come in a dream before; of all the lucid encounters I'd had while asleep, none could compare to this.

The grip on my hips intensified; branches dug into my skin, and I yelped out at the bite of pain that mixed in with everything else I was feeling. I thought I couldn't handle anymore, but she slipped her tongue inside me, and I heard a low groan start in her throat as she worked into me.

The flames flickered on the candle wicks, and the light sputtered as I came in sharp spurts on her tongue. The lights went out completely, obscuring my view as I gave in to the waves of my climax.

"We have to get out of here," the kikimora whispered, and I barely registered the statement before she gave me a firm shake. The room spun around me.

Chapter Six

I came to consciousness in my room—my real room. It was dark aside from my single candle, but I could tell this was my reality from the hand-embroidered details on my comforter. My dreams never picked up intricate details like that with such accuracy. I traced my finger over one of the violet flowers stitched there and sighed. It might have been a dream, but the orgasm had been very real. I took a shaky breath and blew it out as the last wave washed over me.

I wondered where the kikimora went when we were pushed from the dream state—did she return to the swamp, or did she continue to prowl through the dreams of unsuspecting victims, turning sweet visions into nightmares?

I laughed at the thought and rolled over to my back. My body tensed before I registered that there was something warm and solid against me, and it was breathing. My eyes adjusted to the dim warm light, and in the shadows I could make out the outline of a woman sitting against the headboard.

I jolted upright and scrambled for the light switch. A million questions ran through my mind, but I had always prepared for someone involved with my family's business to come after me sooner or later—I just hadn't thought about it in the past twenty-four hours.

My fingers hit the switch, and I had enough clarity to be thankful for the fact that I was alone and no one else would need to get caught up in any potential violence.

The lights came on, and I took in the sight on my bed. A lovely woman sat there, her glossy black hair was thrown over her shoulders and trailed down to the small of her back. Her lips were painted black, and the corners of her lips pulled up sharply—too sharply to be human. Humans I could deal with, but if my cousins had started some shit with vampires I was going to be pretty pissed. I scanned the room for something pointy.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked searingly, knowing not to show a hint of fear. Anyone involved with the paranormal would sniff out any trace of it and use it against me.

"Is that how you usually talk to someone who just licked your pussy?" the woman shot back, and her smile stretched even wider, dimpling her tanned cheeks.

I clenched my fists at my side, trying to figure out the situation in my mind. I ran my eyes over her; she was tall and slim with a long neck.

"Why are you not... you?"

She laughed and plopped back onto the pillows, her hair fanning out around her.

"I'm always me. A kikimora is a spirit, so I just take the form that suits me best for the situation." She rocked up to her forearms and cocked an eyebrow. "I take it this isn't the form you were expecting?"

"To tell the truth, I always imagined you as the birdlike creature that was in Baba's book of lore." I crossed my arms over my chest and made my way back to the bed. "That's what comes up when you google kikimora too, so I was pretty sure you would have had talons or something."

"You googled me?"

My cheeks burned. I had been bored one day a few years ago and started thinking about the stories Baba used to tell. As usual, my curiosity had sent me down a rabbit hole.

"It was for educational purposes." I studied her again; she was wearing a black crop top and black boy shorts. Her eyes were an unnatural shade of blue, but they were nearly human. Her features shifted as I ogled the curves and angles of her body; the heart-shaped face elongated and distorted with a grey beak, and her fingers stretched into talons. Her eyes glowed a deeper shade of midnight blue—nearly black. I took a step back.

"Is this what you expected?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Kinda."

The kikimora shifted back into the woman on my bed, her eyes on me the whole time. I was good at keeping a poker face, but I was pretty sure my fascination was obvious.

"So why this form?"

She shrugged. "Didn't want to leave wet footprints when I came to see you. Plus, it makes it easier when it's my turn to touch with my hands." Her gaze burned into me as it dropped back down along my body. I felt another rush of slick warmth between my thighs and clamped them shut. She had come to see me. I had no idea what kind of strange game I was playing with this monster, but I was into it.

"If you wanted to touch, then why did you visit my dream in your other form?"

Her eyes rolled back as she contemplated the question. "I suppose it's because of how much energy it takes to walk through dreams. It would have been too much to fight off that thing you summoned and take on a form that feels so...unnatural to me."

"Does it take a lot of energy to keep this form now?"

She nodded. "I was born in the Pinsk marshes, the same place your family is from; so long ago now that I cannot remember being young. The creature I am in the swamp, that's the form that lets me thrive in the place where I feel most at home. It's why your grandmother set roots down in the swamp as part of our deal."

I made a note to ask more about that deal later. For now, I wanted to press another issue.

"You should take that form here."

She blinked, slowly, as if it was a gesture she only did to perform as a human and not one that was necessary.

"Do you not like how I look? I thought it might suit your tastes."

"It does, I mean, I do like it." I took another look at her nipples, hard under her crop top, and the curve of her neck. Of course I liked how she looked. But I was confused by how damn attracted I was to the creature that had licked me to the most mind-blowing orgasm I'd had in quite some time. "It's just that I like your true form better, and maybe you'll have more fun if you're comfortable," I finished.

"I'm older than the language you speak, and I've only ever taken one lover in this form," she said, her normal pink tongue shifting into its serpentine form as she spoke. “I appear in nightmares in this form." She gestured a hand over her human body. "I feed off the fear of humans. Yet, here you are, wanting the monster lurking beneath it all?"

I gulped and nodded.

She tossed her hair back, and it shivered with a breeze I couldn't feel; tendrils of green spilling down her back where her mane had been. Her face sloped into its wide maw, rimmed with emerald lips, and her body shifted and changed until she became the verdant creature from the swamp again.

My mouth went dry at how she was looking at me now. The black outfit was gone, and she was covered only by her creeping locks of hair. I could see that the mossy thatch of hair between her thighs was glistening with moisture, and even though I'd already come, I felt a throbbing need to stick my tongue there to see exactly how she tasted.

I licked my lips so I could speak.

"That's much better. But you already touched me, so shouldn't it be my turn to touch you?"

Those bright eyes dimmed a moment, turning a shade of periwinkle before the color returned. The kikimora slithered off the bed and crept around to my nightstand. She kept her back to me as she picked up one of my candles and sniffed it.

"Strawberry?" she mused, setting it back down, and I knew the mood had changed. "I'm quite satisfied with the night's offering. You should be fine to sleep without calling any other nefarious creatures to your bed."

“Um yeah, about that. Thanks for stepping in. I didn’t think that through completely, but you’ve saved me from two very big pickles in one night.”

She folded her arms and cocked her head to the side.

“I didn’t do it for you,” she snapped. “I can’t let you get yourself killed or whisked off to some demon’s lair when my life is tethered to yours. There is no me without you.”

The last candle went out, and she was gone. My thoughts swirled in the dark with the last wisps of smoke.

I didn’t know what she meant—what did my life have to do with hers? I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else; that’s why I was here.

I grumbled and turned over, disturbing Rocket’s sleeping form. He swiped his paws on the bed and curled back up by my belly. The kikimora didn’t want to be bothered either. She was only swooping in because she had to protect her own ass for some reason, and I was just a plaything. I’d try to stay out of her hair.

But as I drifted off to sleep, I found myself still thinking about what we would feel like tangled up together—all limbs, slick leaves, and vines.

Chapter Seven

I have twenty-one first cousins, most of whom are using their "gifts" to further their own success. I like some of them more than others, but if I had to answer the question: which of your cousins irritates you the most? I would be able to answer right off the top of my head.

Dmitri.

That's why I stuffed my phone under my pillow when it buzzed with his name across the screen. I wasn’t talking to him at the butt-crack of dawn. I pulled the covers back over my head, but the events from the night before came flooding back. Sleep wasn’t happening, not when I felt so weird about how the kikimora had left.

It was probably for the best; getting up super early sucked, but Dmitri could be persistent when he wanted something. Bumping into him in my morning dreams was a risk I wasn’t willing to take.

I wiped up the puddles next to my bed and got started with my daily routine. I did a rough sketch of the kikimora’s silhouette next to my bed and put it aside to do some push-ups. By the time I made it to the kitchen for breakfast I was sweating from my workout and had seven missed calls.

I grimaced and scrolled down the call log, trying to prep myself for what I might be asked to do. A text popped in from Jared while I debated calling Dmitri back.

Hey. Dmitri says you're ignoring him. Can't blame you but you might want to pick up. He's kind of being a dick right now.

"Ugh. Y'all suck," I murmured into my cup of coffee. I was about to set my phone aside for the entire damn day to prove a point about not wanting to be bothered, but another text came in. This time my eyes went wide. My first message from Samantha since I’d told her we were over.

Hope you're doing well since your move. This is awkward but one of your cousins texted me asking if I'd heard from you. Just wanted to make sure you're ok?

Ah. There was that rage mode Dmitri liked to set off in me. He knew that under no circumstances was he allowed to reach out to any of my friends or loved ones to get ahold of me. Being haphazard with their personal information was the thing that made me pack up and leave in the first place. He loved pissing me off. It was almost like he lived for it.

His eighth call came in while I was seething so hard my hands shook as I swiped to accept.

"Hello!" his voice rang cheerily on the other end. I opened my mouth to say something, but he kept right on with his arrogant monolog. "I need you to be in South Carolina tomorrow. I'll send you the address; I have a job for you.”

"Dmitri, you can't just—"

"Sorry, did you want to say something? It sounded like you did, but I thought you should know I had a friend in Colorado check in on your gal pal. What was her name again? Oh yes, Samantha. She seems to be recovering quite well from the last incident, hardly shaken up at all. She was laughing and smiling with that gorgeous woman she's been hanging out with. Would be a shame if anything happened to them."

"You mother-fucker. Leave them alone," I said through gritted teeth.

"Relax Dez, nothing is going to happen to them. We're keeping an eye on Samantha for you, that's all. I know you've been worried. I'll text you with more details. See you tomorrow."

He hung up before I could get another word in. It was just as well; I knew what happened when I resisted his requests. I didn't want him to have any of his "friends” lurking anywhere near Samantha or her new girlfriend.

His power reached far since he'd gotten involved in politics, and I was aware of what kind of strings he could pull. I would do whatever he asked if it would keep him away from Samantha. Even if I hated it. She deserved to move on, and I did too. Then he would hopefully stop dangling her safety as a lure for my help.

I rubbed a hand over my face. I needed to eat and get my shit together.

I rummaged through the fridge and found my package of kovbasa links untouched by the kikimora's spoilage. I cooked it up with a pat of butter and tried to ignore my uneasiness about whatever I was going to get suckered into doing the next day.

I always felt better after a good breakfast, but I still didn't feel right when I sat down with my big plate. I never shared a night with a woman without cooking for her the next morning. The loneliness of my living arrangements hit me.

I missed a nice wake and bake session and the random topics that would come up over a plate of scrambled eggs. I wondered if the kikimora ever got lonely out in her swamp. Probably not, seeing as she could whisper to alligators, but I was in a crappy enough mood to need to vent, and she was the only one around. I grabbed the dish and set a bag of weed and a lighter on it before I stepped out. The kikimora had been cold the night before, but she had eaten me out so well it would have been rude not to treat her to breakfast.

The swamp was gorgeous in the morning air before things seemed to wilt in the building heat of the season. Dew still clung to the greenery sprouting up from the marshy ground.

"You out here?" I called out. My cheeks flushed with a mild sense of embarrassment. It seemed like unhinged behavior to stomp out and ask a swamp monster to share breakfast, but most of my life was already pretty abnormal, so I rolled with it. I flung a link of the spiced sausage into the water and waited a few moments.

The surface rippled with a snap of teeth. The kikimora rose in the water, the kovbasa held tight in her teeth. In this light, the sun glinted off her blue eyes, causing ripples of yellow light to pool at the bottom of each orb. The water line covered her to her collarbones, so I could only see the tops of her shoulders and the curve of her neck leading up to her face.

She swallowed the piece in one bite. "Now that is an adequate offering."

I held up the plate. "There's plenty more where that came from. Do you smoke?" I asked, shaking the bag I was holding.

She swam to the edge of the marsh, her teeth bared in something reminiscent of a ferocious grin. "How do you think your grandmother and I passed the time out here?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the image of my sweet little grandmother in one of her nightgowns, smoking with a swamp monster. It wasn't too hard to imagine though; she probably got lonely and bored out here too sometimes. The only visitors she ever got were her kids and grandkids, and to be honest, the ones that came by the most were the ones who were usually looking for a favor. Guilt poked at my insides; I hadn't come around much after I'd moved to Colorado, and I'd been raised almost solely by the woman. If anyone should have felt obligated to come around more often, it should have been me.

"I should mention your grandmother also shared her music with me. In case you ever want to visit like this."

"She did love her records, didn't she?" I mused, rolling the joint and lighting it. It was hard to stay focused on how much I'd missed when there were so many memories of the times we'd shared together. It was even harder to dwell on what I could have done better when the monster looking at me from the soggy bank had her tongue all over me the night before. Heat flooded those spots, and I licked my lips. My mouth kept going dry when I was around her. I supposed that was normal; one ought to be afraid of a creature like her, but I was also feeling that scary mix of nerves I always got around someone I found extremely attractive.

I flicked my lighter and turned the end of the joint against the flame until the cherry formed, then I crouched down to where she waited. I placed the plate of kovbasa on the ground and held it out for her to take a puff, her eyes closing as she took a deep pull. When it was my turn, I found I couldn't tear my eyes away from her as she laid back in the water, her tits bobbing at the surface. This was a much different morning-after session than I'd ever experienced before, but it was nice.

"This is nice," she said, rising from the water again, water dripping from the tendrils of her hair. I coughed in shock.

"Can you read my mind?" I asked her. I hadn't even thought to ask what other abilities she had besides causing things like nightmares and making a mess in general.

"I can't," she said, her voice carrying the smoke. "I can rummage for information in your dreams if I really wanted to, but those are vague details, not spur-of-the-moment thoughts."

"That's good to know." I puffed out another breath.

"But was that what you were thinking?"

"What?" It took me a second, but I caught her meaning. I had given my own thoughts away. "Oh." I shrugged. "Yeah, it’s been awhile since I've been able to have a morning conversation like this."

"That's what brought you out here?" she asked, spearing a link with her sharp nail and lifting it to her mouth. "To talk to a monster?"

"Not just that—I came to tell you I have to go out of town tomorrow. Family business. You know how that goes with us. I thought I should tell you, in case you came looking for me."

Several beats of silence passed between us. Why was I telling her this? It wasn’t like she’d miss me. But it seemed fair for her to know since our lives were somehow bound together.

She cocked her head to the side. "I thought you weren't part of the family business."

"I try not to be, but sometimes I can’t get away from it," I sighed and slapped a mosquito away. "If I don't respond, they'll find ways to make me answer. Sometimes Dmitri will walk through my dreams without my permission." I shuddered. "Or worse."

"Worse?"

"I can't get too close to anyone without worrying they might get hurt."

She dove beneath the water, and I wondered if she'd even heard me. It was highly unlikely that she'd actually want to listen to some human girl complaining about her problems. A splash and a rustling sound told me she'd resurfaced near the cattails. I only caught a glimpse of her as she waded into the tangled mess of the weeds and took a seat. Her fingers parted the stalks where she peeked through.

"I know some of your family can be...irritating. Dmitri has always been a little shit though. One time he dunked little Natalia, so I grazed his leg with my teeth. I would have done worse if I hadn't promised your grandmother I wouldn’t scare the grandkids."

"Do you know he still tells everyone he narrowly escaped the clutches of an alligator?"

"Does he really?"

"Yes, you totally should have bit him though. He was always an ass to me; one time he held me over the balcony at his parent's house in Jersey. I was so scrawny back then, and he always made a game out of tossing me around. He was like that with Natalia and Anna too."

"He did always like to prey on anyone weaker than him," she said and looked away. The fluffy tops of the weeds mostly concealed her now. I was feeling heady and surprisingly calm, so I pulled a towel from the nearby bench and laid it out on the ground so I could stretch out in the fresh morning sun before it got too warm.

"I'm not weaker than him, you know," I said, closing my eyes. "I’ve spent so much time making myself strong. I just don't like to waste my strength on things that aren't important."

“And what’s important to you, moya rybka?”

My thoughts were hazy enough that I couldn’t translate the words, but they slipped around me like a hug and made me want to talk more.

“I don’t know. My art, my friends, people I love. My own peace.”

A soft wind rustled through the branches of nearby trees. I listed the names of the ones I knew off the top of my head: bald cypress, white cedar... my thoughts drifted to stumps half-rotted and crawling with live things from the marsh. I was home again, and I didn’t have to worry about the woman I was venting to getting hurt. I could tell her my secrets and know that even my family wouldn’t dare to threaten her.

“Peace,” she hummed her agreement. “Don’t let your family steal your peace. You don’t have to go.”

"I wish it was that easy. I’ll go if it means Samantha stays safe."

I wasn't sure if I kept the thought in my mind or whispered it to the warm breeze.

Chapter Eight

I double-checked that I had what I needed in my duffel bag before I zipped it up and slung it across my chest. I didn't need much, but I didn't want to get stuck in a hotel without a change of clothes or my rabbit vibrator. I didn't know what kind of favor Dmitri was going to ask for, and I didn't want to get stuck in grimy clothes.

I also didn't want to feel the temptation to roam around the city and look for trouble if I finished my work early. That's what the toy was for—I didn't need to be out on the town when my cousin was prone to keeping an eye on me. There were too many things that could go wrong if I got a little flirty.

I closed the screen door and locked up, deciding to take a walk to the swamp before I headed out; Rocket needed to run off some energy before getting in the truck, and I was hoping to catch sight of the kikimora. She'd been gone by the time I'd woken up from my morning nap the day before, and then I'd spent the evening painting and waiting for her. She hadn’t shown up, and I tried not to let it get to me. She was probably busy doing swamp chick shit, whatever that was.

All I had was a protein bar to offer, but it didn't look like she was anywhere near the house side of the swamp. I needed to leave or risk another phone call from Dmitri. I set the snack down on the bench and set off with my pup.

Rocket hopped up in the passenger's seat, and I dropped my bag on the floor before slamming the door. I spun around and found myself face-to-face, or face-to-neck, with a tall raven-haired woman. The kikimora. I had trouble looking away from the tanned-white skin that peeked through the small gap between her top and her skirt, but when I met her face, the wide set of her mouth curled into a smile.

"Hi," I said, feeling shy. Her human form was extremely attractive, and I felt awkward in comparison with my oversized t-shirt and biker shorts. I was such a sucker for hot goth women.

"Hi." The smile didn't budge; her mouth was edged with precise black liner. "Are you up for some company? It's been awhile since I've been on an adventure."

I was one-hundred percent sure that this trip did not in any way, shape, or form qualify as an adventure, but I was definitely ready for the company. The answer would have been a solid no for any regular mortal, but I was fairly certain the kikimora would be able to vanish or protect herself from my cousin if necessary.

"Absolutely," I answered and opened the door to shuffle things around, making more space. Rocket balked when I picked him up. "You uh, might have to ride with him in your lap though. It's a little tight in here."

Rocket, usually full of protests, quieted down when the kikimora took him in her arms and stroked the top of his head. "You are a good boy, aren't you?" she crooned before slipping back into her old language. He curled up on her lap and tucked his nose in near his tail as we took our seats and hit the road.

We didn't say much as we left the gravel drive; it always felt like this when I left the premises, like I was leaving behind something important, something that might reach out and drag me back to the spot where I was meant to be. It seemed she felt a similar way. It was hard to tell from her odd expression, but she was quiet until the property released us, and the sun shone fully overhead.

"Don't worry, it's safe. I told my minions we would be gone for a couple of days. They'll let me know if anything happens."

"I have several questions," I said, tapping my fingers against the worn leather of the steering wheel. "Minions?"

"Ah yes. My swamp friends: the gators and the feral hogs. There are also fireflies and bullfrogs."

"Mhmm."

"You asked." She turned her gaze out the window and pulled a pair of cat-eye sunglasses down over her too-bright eyes.

"You didn't come last night," I said, trying to make conversation after some time had gone by.

"You didn't ask me to."

"Does that usually stop you?"

My eyes were on the road, so I couldn't see how she looked at me when she turned her head, but I could tell from the cool glow of her gaze that she was looking. She made a noise that sounded closer to the ones she made in her swamp form and sighed deeply. "Yesterday you sounded put off by your family disturbing your dreams, and I figured you didn't need anyone else stepping through a place that should belong all to you."

I flushed at the realization that I'd spilled so much the day before. That and the fact that she'd been paying attention to the details of what I'd said had me feeling uncomfortably warm and fuzzy.

"Thanks," I muttered. "I did like our dream but yeah, I should probably keep that space safe since I've worked hard for a long time to keep it mostly clear."

"Boundaries are important anytime we get too close to the supernatural," she said. "I've learned that the hard way. Always protect yourself." Her voice rasped with a shaky breath that made me grip the wheel tighter. "I liked your dream too," she said. "I bet it would be even better awake though. There are so many things I want to do with you."

I chanced a look at her; she had her head tipped back against the seat so that her bun was mushed up against the headrest. I wanted to see that smushed up against a pillow, or even better, I wanted to see her seaweed tendrils askew against a tree. I wanted to see this human form drop away until she became lush with the features of nature, and I could taste the flavor of her most natural form. I nearly swerved into the other lane and needed to adjust.

"Maybe we should talk about something else. Are you ever going to tell me how exactly you befriended my grandmother?" I mentioned Baba on purpose to pull my mind out of the gutter. There were certain topics that always killed a horny vibe.

"Nika was clever. She knew I was the shadow in the night out to get her; that I had followed her family so far and brought so much malice with me. One night, she came to the swamp and stuck her bare toes in the water. I still remember the teacup she held in her hand. I meant to scare her, or to send the gators her way, but she spoke to the night and offered her friendship instead. She offered a deal, and I took her up on it."

A lump formed in my throat. I could picture the scene, how my grandmother would have looked back then—younger but with the same brave set of her shoulders. She must have been brave, because the woman next to me was not the soft pretty thing she was portraying. She was clawed and impossibly tall with razor-sharp teeth. I shuddered at the power she could wield if she wished to.

"And what was the deal?" I managed to ask.

"That the swamp could be mine, and I would leave her and her family alone. I would receive offerings regularly to sustain my energy."

"I see. I guess I almost messed up the offering part. My bad.” In my defense, my grandmother forgot to mention that she was real, but that seemed sort of disrespectful to mention, so I kept that to myself. “I'm curious though; what happened that made you come all the way to the United States? To Florida of all places?"

"That is a story for another time," she hissed and stopped talking. There was that coldness from last night again.

The silence stretched out as our surroundings shifted to farmlands tucked away from the coast. I only looked a few times, but the kikimora didn't seem to move her gaze from the window, taking in the lush greenery. She hardly seemed to blink at all. I made sure not to hold my stare for too long, my eyes liked to linger where the fabric of her halter top strained over her breasts. Between that and the awkward silence, I was about ready to jump out of my skin. I needed something to break up the dead quiet.

My truck was old enough that it didn't have Bluetooth, so I hit play on the CD player and prayed it would come on.

“I hope you like Taylor Swift, because that’s all I’ve got. I would play Fearless, but we only listen to Taylor’s version in this truck, and I left it at home.”

I knew she was staring blankly at me as the sounds of Folklore filled the cab. We wound down a back road I knew would get us around some of the Saturday traffic. A sudden pop sounded, and the truck jerked on the road. Rocket's little head popped up, and the kikimora was unfazed, her expression unchanged.

"Damn it, no," I whined and pulled over to a shady area where Spanish moss hung between entwined branches. "Looks like we hit a broken bottle. I've got to change it."

I cursed myself. I was usually so attentive and careful—I was used to the feeling that someone might be watching at any time, but I'd been distracted. The kikimora climbed out with Rocket, and I couldn’t blame myself for not focusing when I saw her bend over to pick up a stick. Her legs were so long in those damn shorts it was a wonder I hadn't been bumping into shit all day.

"Do you need any help?" she asked. "I have no idea how to actually help, but I can pretend." She grinned as she pulled her arm back and threw the stick.

"No, I'm pretty good at fixing shit. I'll have it done in a few.”

I reached into the bed and pulled out the tire jack and my spare. Careful as I was, the truck was old as dirt and I always came prepared. It didn't take long, but a layer of dirt coated my arms and legs by the time I was done. The kikimora's eyes went round and wide as she saw me approaching.

"Sorry, I'm a little gross," I said, gesturing to my disheveled state.

Her tongue peeked out past her lips, an inhuman feature for her human face. "No way. I like it."

Heat flooded my low belly and filled the space between my thighs. This road trip was going to be unbearably difficult. I took a deep breath to steady myself and started the engine, turning the a.c. up full blast even though the windows were cracked and it wasn't that hot yet. I needed the cold air on my face.

"Come on, Rocket," I coaxed, patting the seat so he'd jump in. Once he did, I felt a light touch between my shoulder blades. I turned back to see my travel buddy behind me, her eyelids heavy. I swallowed hard as she continued to turn me all the way to her, wrapping her arms lightly behind me. I loved how the thick black denim of her skirt pressed against my spandex; it left me wanting to press further into her. I needed the pressure, the release from the ache building between my legs.

The world seemed to drop still for a beat, and we stood there. Not moving, not speaking.

"I feel like I should know your real name," I said softly, breaking the silence. "Since we keep meeting like this."

Surprise flitted across her features. "I've only ever been called the kikimora," she said.

"Can I call you Mora, then?" I asked, enjoying the sensation as I pressed my palm into the small of her back and ran it down the curve of her ass. "I think that would sound nice."

"Mora," she whispered, rolling the syllables around on her tongue. "Maybe we should see how it sounds on your lips when you call out for me.”

I sucked in my breath at the sweaty images her statement brought to mind. She knew she had that power over me.

I shot a look toward the bed of the truck, and she gave a low growl in response.

“Maybe we should test it out.”

I let down the tailgate, and she hoisted herself up before pulling me in on top of her. She pressed her heels against the metal surface to scootch us further into the bed and rolled us onto our sides. I slipped my knee between hers, pressing until her legs parted nicely, and I could feel the heat of her against my upper thigh.

We were wrapped up in each other, and I was only half an inch away from her black-painted lips. I pressed my mouth there and ran my tongue along the crease of her mouth until she opened for me, her tongue meeting my own. I could feel its rapid flickering movement and remembered how good it felt in other spots.

I moaned and couldn't help rocking against her thigh. She pulled back and gasped a little; shifting her gaze down to see how our bodies tangled together, the way our hips were starting to grind against each other's legs. Her skirt was hiked up to her hips, and her undergarments were skimpy enough that I could feel how wet she was against me.

I brought her mouth back to mine with slow kisses up the hollow of her throat and her jawline until I felt that connection I craved again.

Our kiss grew deeper and our movements became faster, jerkier, as we started to hone into the spots where the tension was building. I loved how we fit with each other; the soft curve of her tits against my more muscular chest and the vibrations from the soft growling in her throat were all so unlike anything else I'd ever experienced.

I rolled away slightly; the truck bed was rough against my low back. Mora reached for my hip to pull me back, but I held a hand out to her low belly, working my fingers to the hemline of her skirt. I toyed with the material there.

"I haven't gotten to really touch you yet. Is this ok?"

She bit her lip, the black lipstick somehow never smudging or leaving a mark. "Yeah, I want you to while I'm in this form."

I slipped my fingers past the thin fabric of her thong and felt that familiar ache building as I brushed over damp curls of hair to her soft folds. I cupped my hand over her warmth and took her mouth again in a deep kiss before I dragged my fingers back up to her slick cleft.

"You’re so wet," I whispered against her lips, stroking my fingertips lightly across the skin. I wanted to know if she was as sensitive as I was there in this form. I pressed two fingers to her clit and began stroking there until her breath hitched and she let out a low growl. I shifted onto my forearm, so I could partially roll on top of her as I continued to work my hand there, stroking lightly over her clit, my hand fumbling beneath the material of her skimpy underwear.

My breath picked up; I wanted to sink my fingers into her and have her quickly here in the shade of the trees. But I also wanted to take my time, and I wanted something else: to see her vivid green and her sharp teeth. She made a whining noise as I pulled my hand away and traced my way back up to the bottom of her halter top.

Her pouting melted into a contented sigh as I pulled her shirt up higher to feel her bare tits beneath the fabric. I rolled her nipple between my wet fingers.

"I love these, but I love them even more when they're bobbing in the swamp water," I said. "I want to touch you so badly when you're like that." I could have sworn I saw a flush spread across her cheeks, but it was gone before I could be sure.

"It's better like this," she said, not giving me any clue as to why she was so hell-bent on keeping her true-form guarded. "Besides, what if someone caught us?"

"Good point," I agreed and pulled her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently. As much as I wanted to see her shift again, I couldn't say I wasn't enjoying myself. "Much easier to explain two normal women banging in the back of a truck."

She rasped out a laugh, and I kissed my way down to her belly while I worked my hand back down to her mound. I slipped a finger down past her curls and into her tight wetness. She hissed out a breath, and I worked another finger in.

"Fuck. You feel so good," I told her and tugged her skirt up so I could kiss her clit. She was pink and warm where her curls parted; I tried not to think about what her mossy thatch looked like with water dripping from it. I moaned against her, pressing the flat of my tongue down against her swollen cunt. It was so much sweeter than I imagined, more nectar than salt.

I worked my fingers in and out of her, so slow, getting a feel for the rhythm she liked. I circled my tongue against the spot, humming my pleasure as she began to writhe beneath me. I wanted to get tangled up and tumble around with her, but I knew I couldn't do that this time—I was extending an offering to her, and I needed to make it good. I needed to make her want me for more than just a few nights. I needed to earn her trust in any form.

Mora said something I couldn't understand; I was pretty sure some of the syllables she uttered weren't present in the alphabet I knew, but she continued to spit the words out as she lifted her ass to rock into my fingers and mouth. I rolled my eyes up to where her head was thrown back and saw that her bun was now made of seaweed and coming loose at her shoulders. She was losing control and so was I.

I lapped at her clit one more time and drew it between my lips where I sucked until she came, her muscles clenching tight around my fingers. I kept contact as she tried to wiggle away from the intensity, until I coaxed every last wave from her.

Her knees wobbled as she drew her hands up to her face. She sat up slightly to look me in the eye as I pulled my fingers from her and sucked them into my mouth.

"Love how you taste.”

I was so turned on. I knew I would come fast as hell. I lifted the waistband of my shorts and slid my hand there while she watched as I touched myself. It wouldn’t take long; not when I was reliving how our hips had rocked together.

Her eyes went preternaturally blue and wide, the whites basically disappearing around them as I mixed the dampness she'd left on my fingers with my own. The pressure built quickly, and she leaned forward, pulling my shirt up so her teeth grazed my nipple.

The slightest hint of pain blended with something even more intense as my orgasm shattered through me. I threw my head back, my moans as indecipherable as Mora's ancient words had been.

Chapter Nine

We got back on the road without any issues and a lot less tension. Mora's hair flowed in neat black waves by the time she buckled in and began to rub her hands over Rocket's soft ears. I liked her hair down and loose—it looked closer to the wild tangle of green that appeared in her natural form.

I turned the music up and braced myself for awkward silence, but our conversation started to feel more natural as the miles went by.

“So, do you have a type besides other swamp creatures?” I asked her. “Any celebrity crushes?”

“Hmm. I’ve always had a soft spot for Mary Tyler Moore. She’s such a beautiful woman.”

We were going to have to talk about the human lifespan. But then I remembered what she’d said about her existence being over once I died, and that felt like a pretty heavy topic, even if I was curious.

“Yep, Baba loved the Mary Tyler Moore Show. I used to watch all the old shows with her on Nick at Nite.”

“Why did you come back?”

The question was so abrupt that I couldn’t think of a good answer.

“Is it so strange that I did?”

“Yes. You were so eager to leave.”

“That’s normal,” I said and ran a hand over my hair. “Most people want to branch out from their family’s expectations at some point.”

“But what brought you back?”

“I don’t know. I never wanted to until one of my ex’s roommates turned up dead from some random mauling. The whole thing reeked of supernatural mischief. Leaving seemed responsible.”

“The swamp seemed like the best option?”

“Not at first. I traveled around, but I couldn’t stop dreaming of home.”

The silence was thick. Here I was, pouring my guts out again when no one asked for that.

"But now that I've been back it feels weird to leave. It’s like I’m meant to be there.” My abilities seemed to have relaxed since I’d been back. I didn’t feel like there was a dark shadow at the edge of my mind. “Do you think you'll ever travel back to where you were born?"

"No," she answered. "I don't believe I'll ever go back."

"Do you ever get homesick for it?"

"No. The swamp on your property and the creatures that live there make it feel more like a real home than the place where I was born."

Something in her tone tugged at my heart. Home was such an uncomfortable topic for me; most of my friends had happy families they could return to for holidays or when things got tough. The people like me who had a reason to avoid home tended to get a little sensitive when the subject came up. It felt like a wound that never healed properly to crave the comfort of something familiar, while also knowing it wasn't really good for you.

“That makes sense. Guess that makes us both swamp creatures, so we have something in common!”

“I suppose we do, moya rybka,” she said, and the words clicked this time. She was calling me her fishlet, which was pretty cheesy, but my heart squeezed at how much it sounded like a cute pet name.

"I also escaped what my family had planned for me. So that’s two things in common."

“Oh really?” I knew I couldn’t pry too much, or she’d withdraw.

“Yes. The spirits back there—the leshy, the rusalka, the domovoi, and so many others...they were always laughing at how awful I was at playing my role. I was never good enough to command respect.”

The traffic light turned red and she faced me, looking relaxed, but I could see that her thumb was worrying at the skin on her knee.

“You asked why I came here, and you might not like it, but to put it simply your great-grandmother had talents like yours. The creatures near my home, my family, admired her. Even my lover, the leshy, admired her.”

I started to wonder if there was a forest-spirit lurking in my gene-pool. I tried to remember the names in the family tree scribbled in Baba’s bible.

“Uh. So, did they get together?”

“No. She ran from his attention, and I followed her. Those of us who can live for so long can hold grudges that seem petty to mortals, but I was jealous." She bit off the last word as if it tasted bitter. “I was supposed to bring malice and chaos, but I only ever made them laugh at my attempts. She was never my enemy; she was just a girl.”

The light changed to green, and I tapped the gas slowly. My old truck seemed out of place in this city where the cars were newer flashier models; Dmitri wouldn't have business out in bumble stumble. I had more questions to ask, but we were getting close to the address I'd plugged into the GPS on the console.

"Did the leshy ever try to find you and win you back?"

"I don't know if he tried, but once I was free of that place I didn't want him to. He never has found me."

Oh. "What do you think happened to him?"

"He probably faded away." She let out a small self-satisfied noise, as if this possibility pleased her. "They probably all have by now. That’s what’s supposed to happen."

"Well, that's bleak," I started, and a robotic voice interrupted before I could ask anything else. Turn right. You have arrived. "We're here."

My hands were sweaty on the wheel as we pulled into the diner's nearly empty parking lot. Our little talk had kept me distracted from my nerves, and despite how much I hated to admit it, I was nervous. Dmitri could be asking me to stalk a werewolf or kidnap a political opponent for all I knew, and I'd have to go along with it to keep Samantha safe. I closed my eyes and put on a brave face. I wouldn't let him see a crack in my composure. I knew I was a pawn in his game, but he didn't have the same power over me as he did when we were kids.

Mora cleared her throat, and I caught sight of her with one leg hanging out the door. She was fastening a choker around her neck. I wanted to rewind time back to several hours earlier, when I wasn't reduced to a bundle of nerves. I didn't want her to see me like this.

"Don't let him talk down to you," she said, touching my wrist lightly without looking at me. She picked Rocket up and shut the door behind her.

* * *

"You're late," I said, swirling cream into my third cup of coffee since Mora and I had taken our seats on the outdoor patio. The metal chair scraped against the concrete as Dmitri took a seat next to me. A thick wave of cologne overwhelmed the space. Even with all the money he had, he still bathed in cheap body spray.

Some things never changed.

"I had an impromptu meeting with my campaign manager," he said, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. "Besides, you're never on time. I figured I'd spare myself the wait."

He pulled off his business jacket and folded it neatly over the back of the chair. He brought his attention to Mora in the chair across from him, his eyes running over her figure and lingering in areas where they had no business lingering.

“I guess you're Dez's friend?"

He turned back to me. "Ballsy," he mouthed before lifting an eyebrow back at Mora. "This is a family matter though. You probably know me from my Congressional campaign, and I'm sure you realize that some political moves need to stay secret."

He flashed her an arrogant smile that I knew he used on just about everyone he met. So many people fell for it, never realizing that much of his "charm" came from his supernatural ability to weedle out personal information and hold it against them.

Mora didn't answer; she only shifted her eyes to me. I shook my head. No. He wasn't going to make her leave. I took pleasure in knowing that he couldn't harm her, and he didn't even know it. A sick sense of delight welled up in me as he bit back his irritation. I could see the twitch in the corner of his mouth. He wasn't happy.

"Don't lose your temper here, Dima, I wouldn't want you to soil your polished image. It’ll be hard to run for Congress if you're in the news for something silly. Just think of the headlines: Florida Man Attacks Cousin at Diner."

He snorted out a stunned laugh.

"Tell me what you wanted me for. Let's get this over with."

He cracked open a sticky menu, avoiding my eyes as he spoke. "Aunt Florence is ill," he said softly.

"Is Natalia ok?" The question was an automatic response. Aunt Florence was Natalia's mother, but I couldn't imagine sweet Natalia wringing her hands over a parent who had treated her so poorly.

"How should I know? She's just as uncooperative as you are and has no real talents, so she's entirely useless in all of this. Anyways," he said, waving my question about our cousin's well-being away, "Aunt Florence has started to ramble and her... um... talents have grown quite erratic. Erratic and loud."

A muscle tensed in his jaw when he looked back toward Mora. He dropped his voice down even lower and leaned in close to my ear, using the menu to cover what he was saying. "I want you to take care of her."

A jolt of shock pressed at my extremities. He'd asked a lot from me in the past but never to actually kill. Heat flooded my veins as I considered his pristine image: the designer clothes, the leather shoes, the Lexus in the parking lot.

At that moment, I hated him more than I'd ever hated anything. I didn't even like Aunt Florence, but I thought we at least had some unspoken code that our gifts were for the benefit of the entire family or whatever bullshit my father and the rest of them had spouted when they’d taken up their murder cult shenanigans.

A server came by and set a glass of water down in front of Dmitri. "Can I get you something else?"

I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself, focusing on her pink earrings dangling as she spoke.

"Ah, I'll take a cup of coffee, sweetheart."

There was Dmitri’s smile again, a flash of white as if he hadn't just asked me to kill our aunt, one of the founding members of my family’s bizarre little society.

"Y'all are good?" the server asked, peering at me and Mora. I nodded. Mora stared ahead in silence. The server furrowed her brow. "Okie-dokie then. I'll be right back with your coffee!"

"Your new girlfriend is strange, Dez. I miss sweet Samantha; I might pay her a visit soon," Dmitri said, sounding bored, but I heard the threat loud and clear in his statement.

He leaned into the back of the chair and crossed an ankle over his thigh. A crease formed between his thick eyebrows, and he blinked firmly, like he was trying to clear something from his eyes.

He was staring at Mora, or more specifically, at her eyes, which seemed more out of place at a human diner the longer you looked at them.

His throat bobbed, and he uncrossed his legs quickly so that both feet were firm on the ground. He looked ready to bolt from the table.

"Dez. What is this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dez. I'm not screwing around. Who—or what is this thing you're dating?"

Mora sat there, completely silent, and her eyes glowed brighter than they had before. She cocked her head to the side, her face void of expression. Even I was mildly creeped out by whatever she was doing. Dmitri's jaw worked, and I could tell he was grinding his teeth—a bad habit he'd had since childhood. He was either scared or really, really pissed.

"Mistress, may I?" Mora hissed the question in my direction.

"Uh. Sure?" I chanced, hoping whatever she was asking permission for didn't involve cleaning up a bigger mess than the one Dmitri was asking me to make.

Without a warning, she held her palms open on the table, and Dmitri's fresh glass of water took on a tinge of green until the whole glass was as murky as swamp water itself. It bubbled over, nasty water sloshing over the side and through the iron slats of the table.

"The fuck?" He pushed away, narrowly avoiding his crisp pants being splashed. "Dez. What is going on? I hope you realize you’re in some deep shit with whatever this is, and I'm not helping you out of it." His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"You just asked me to take care of our aunt, so I doubt you'd help me anyways," I stated. I shot a look at Mora. "That's enough." The water stopped bubbling and returned to its clear state.

"You need to keep it down, I asked you to meet me at a place where I didn't have to worry about a scene.” He glanced around. "You have one chance not to mess this up. Think of Samantha."

I wanted to argue, to ask Mora to mess with him some more. But while I appreciated how much her party trick had annoyed him, I knew I was powerless. I wouldn’t risk Samantha’s safety. I would have to deal with Aunt Florence even if it ripped my soul apart.

"You will not threaten my mistress." The ethereal quality of Mora's voice was heightened in her statement. "I have sworn to protect her from all of her enemies."

"What are you, some kind of demon?” Dmitri scoffed. "I'll have someone come take care of you too."

Mora let out a low laugh. "Oh. Honey, you wish." Her smile sharpened as she leaned across the table. "My mistress will not run your errands for you any longer. We came here to tell you that."

"Is this true? Did you come here to challenge me?" He looked at me, fury radiating from his body. "You know I can make you."

"If you threaten her," Mora cut him off with violent sweetness, "if you threaten Samantha, or Natalia, or anyone else she loves, then you risk your opponent's campaign manager and everyone else finding out about your son, or should I say, cub?"

Dmitri's cocky expression fell completely from his face as his skin drained of color. "I—I—"

"Surely you wouldn't deny him?" Mora prodded. "You don’t want anyone finding out about him, yet you’ve made so many arrangements to make sure he lives a comfortable life with his mother. You have nightmares about something happening to them."

Her threat rang just as clear as Dmitri's had, and judging by the slack-jawed look on his face, it had worked.

"Dez, please. Don't threaten him. He doesn't even know about me," Dmitri stumbled over his words, looking completely helpless for the first time ever. I knew how bad that felt, to have to separate yourself from someone you loved to protect them. To deal with threats to their safety. I wanted to assure him I would never harm this kid I was just learning about, but I had to make sure he learned his lesson.

I sipped my cooled coffee. "As long as you don't even think about harming anyone I care about. Then fine, I'll leave your boy out of it, and we can go back to being one big happy family." I set the cup down as the server pushed open the door.

"Hello little fella," she greeted Rocket, who was sniffing at her heels as she set down cups and plates. I waited until she was back in the diner before I continued our conversation.

"If you want to talk business, let's talk. Let's think of another way to calm our aunt down so you can be on your way and leave me alone. Perhaps we can find information on an herbalist who might have some ideas," I suggested.

Dmitri tensed but took a gulp of coffee. "Maybe. It seems you might have better ideas than I thought. Tell me, how did you get that thing under your control?"

I hated how he referred to my lovely swamp creature, but I couldn’t ruin the facade. Mora touched the choker on her throat, and I let my eyes linger there for a moment.

"I can't give away all of my secrets."

Chapter Ten

"You were freaking amazing," I laughed, my arm still linked through Mora’s as we pushed open the door to our room. Funny how after our talk, Dmitri had felt obligated to put us up in a nice hotel. He’d even thanked us for traveling so far to meet him. That was a first.

I glanced around the room; it had a hot tub in the corner, a luxurious bed next to floor-to-ceiling windows, and a hallway leading to a giant bathroom. It was by far the fanciest place I'd ever stayed. Rocket yipped happily and made himself cozy on the bed.

"I thought rummaging through Dmitri's dreams might be helpful," she said, pulling a hot pink bag from her pocket. "There was so much juicy information. I'll have to tell you more about his fling with a werewolf later. But for now, let's enjoy our adventure." She tossed the bag to me, and I unwrapped it gingerly, revealing a package of gummy edibles.

“I took it off of him when he wasn’t looking,” she said with a smile.

"Hell yeah, you are amazing!" I squealed. "He's going to be so pissed, and we are going to sleep so good tonight."

I set them aside and stepped closer to her, lacing my fingers with hers. "Thank you so much," I said, resting my forehead against her. "I wouldn't have been able to get free from him without you."

"You know you're more powerful than the rest of them, right?" she asked, and I could feel the weight of her gaze on me. My heart skipped a beat. "You don't need me to tell them off, in fact, you could have them all under your control."

"I don't want that. Maybe the world would be a better place if the most powerful people could just be content with what they have, instead of constantly reaching for more."

"You're a funny creature," she said. "But I understand." She shook loose of my grip and ran a finger along the crest of my shoulder. "You're so unlike your father."

"Good, he was an asshole. He wound up dead from all of his meddling anyways."

"You're a little more like your mother," she mused. My breath hitched in my throat at the mention of her. I'd never known her.

"You knew her," I breathed.

"Only a little, she was quiet and happy to be in love. But now that I think of it, you're not much like her either. You've done everything you can to make yourself strong; I don't think you would have just left."

"But I did," I said, thinking of how I left Baba to avoid the family drama, and how I left Samantha.

"But you always make sure that the ones you love are ok," she clarified. "I could find your mother if you wanted."

"I could too. I don't want to. I want her to have that quiet life if that's what she chose," I said, and it was true. I hoped she got free of whatever spell my father put her under. "Enough about power and family. I'm happy to be here with you." I tilted my chin up and stood on my tip-toes to press my mouth against hers.

I let myself melt into the kiss as she pressed back—soft at first, running her tongue along my bottom lip, deepening until I was lost and making small noises in the back of my throat.

I pulled back, panting, and cocked my chin toward the hot tub. "That looks nice, doesn't it?"

She purred in agreement, and I made quick work of filling it until it bubbled up with steam. I grabbed her hand and led her to the stone steps. I paused at the top of the small platform and pulled my shirt off over my head. She kept watching as I stripped off my sports bra and slid down my shorts until I was naked before her. I turned back to the water and slowly adjusted my way in.

A few moments later, Mora joined me; she was completely bare, the tops of her breasts shining in the water. She leaned her head back and sighed, her hair falling into green tendrils in the warm water.

She gasped and sat up. Her hair began to tint back to black again.

"It's ok, you can let go of that form now. You can relax."

She looked at me, skeptical, but let her hair fall back into its fresh green growth. I pressed my shoulder into the side of the tub so I was angled toward her and cupped my hand over her cheek.

"I like you like this, the real you. You let me see you like that before, why not now?"

Her eyes closed. "It was probably a novelty, you won't like it for long."

"I will," I murmured, stroking a hand down her cheek as the skin there shifted to hues of velvety green, and her mouth sharpened into its maw. "You are such a damn beautiful creature. I love how I can let my guard down around you."

It was a sappy thing to say, but the heat of the hot tub made the air thick and heady, and I felt drunk. I wanted to sip at her skin and get tangled up with her.

I pressed my palms against her collarbones, feeling her damp skin there, the change in texture. I brushed my fingertips up to the clasp at the back of her neck, and I could have sworn she shivered under my touch as I loosened the choker and tossed it aside. I draped a leg over her thigh and pulled myself up to straddle her lap. The thatch of plant-like curls brushed up against my sensitive skin with the current of water. I had to bite back a low moan as I rocked into that place.

She pressed back against the tub and rocked her hips up into mine. I traced kisses down her emerald flesh, savoring and tasting every warm inch of her as I made my way down to her tits. I sighed as I finally brought my lips to her nipple and sucked.

A low growl sounded in her throat, and she pressed her hand against my low back. I felt the dripping leaves against the curve of my ass and knew she was fully transformed back into herself.

"Nadezhda," she groaned. Branches pressed into the small of my back as her grip firmed. "Go to the platform. Get on your hands and knees."

"But I want to taste you," I argued.

"Not this time," she said and wriggled out from underneath me. I made my way on to the platform as she'd ordered and waited while she stepped out of the tub. I was so turned on I'd do whatever she asked.

"Don't look," she commanded in a voice like gravel. I heard her wet footsteps across the floor, then the sound of my duffel unzipping. She came back up the short set of stairs and knelt on the middle step so she had a full view of me from behind.

I disobeyed and glanced over my shoulder. Tendrils unfurled from her fingertips and lengthened, wrapping around my thighs and holding me open for her.

“Stay there. Just like that,” she ordered. As if I could move. As if I would want to.

With the help from the vines, she kept me solidly in place while her hands gripped my hips tight, and her teeth grazed my low back.

Her tongue found its way to my clit and worked there a moment, flickering and teasing before it danced gently up to my entrance. I bit down on my lips as her tongue slid into me. It still worked with its quick vibrations, but it felt thick inside me for how serpentine it was. I pressed my hips back so she filled me up even more with that impossibly long tongue.

She let out a noise, and I heard a buzzing sound as she worked her tongue in and out of me. Oh my god, I thought, she's using my vibrator. I rocked further into every thrust of her tongue as I thought of what she was doing to herself behind me. I wished I could watch. I loved to watch.

I felt her tongue stiffen inside of me, and she grew still for a split-second before she pulled out of me completely. I was about to protest, but I heard one low growl rip from her throat as I was overtaken by a buzzing sensation that filled me up and pressed into my clit. I shouted at the sudden change, her cries behind me taking me over the edge, my body collapsing against the wet tiles of the platform as I was spent completely.

* * *

"I was not expecting you to pull my rabbit out of the bag," I giggled.

I wrapped myself in a towel and joined the kikimora in all of her swampy glory at the ledge of the hot tub where she dangled her legs into the water. Droplets formed on her hair and rolled down the tendrils where they covered her body. She shrugged, and the slight movement made her look different—not human, but vulnerable.

I loved to snuggle up after being intimate, although I had to be careful. I could never risk falling asleep and having some spirit approach me while a woman slept by my side, so I always made sure to get up and light my candles.

Your little bedtime prayers, Samantha had called them. I smiled at the memory, but I didn't want to go back to those nights. I was too busy wondering what it would be like to curl up next to the kikimora, to know she'd sense my fear and have my back if I ever let my walls down by accident.

My fingers itched to touch her. I decided against it. She was an ancient creature of the natural world, and mortal affection was probably beneath her.

"I still have a few tricks left in me."

"I guess I should call you a kinkymora."

Her laugh came out with a growl that startled Rocket on the bed. He popped his little head up and sank back into the fluffy down blankets. She didn't come any closer to me, but her gaze didn't move from my face. Her eyes were normally difficult to read in her natural form; the stretch of incandescent blue didn’t give away her thoughts easily—but I swore I could see something soften there.

Her chest rose and fell beneath the curtain of green covering her body and that softness...the way she was looking at me...she looked hungry, like she saw me inches away and knew she could have me any way she wanted. She was a monster after all, and her flesh was immortal as far as I knew. She leaned forward. Did she want more? Did she want me to lay back for her so she could taste me again, or was she looking for a snack? I should have been afraid, but the air felt too thick between us in the silence.

"You are so delightful to be around," she said softly. I watched her tongue flick against the sharp edges of her teeth. There was something wistful in her words, and it struck me that she might be hungry in the same way I was: starved for affection.

I reached my hand forward. I knew it was risky; I could get it bit off if my suspicions were wrong, but I thought I might be right, that there might be a sweet payoff. I tipped forward until the palm of my hand touched her cheek. Her eyes opened wide and she tensed up before they blotted closed, and the slippery skin of her cheek pressed into my palm. She exhaled slowly.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I couldn't make sense of the thoughts I was having. Touch seemed like a safe alternative to words, so I kept my hand there where she rested, and only after several breaths passed between us did I cautiously feather my fingertips down to her jawline and then further down to the column of her throat. Her lips peeled back, and she bared her teeth.

"Why don't you want me to touch you? I did in my dream. I saw you there—gorgeous and naked like you were a vital piece of the swamp itself."

"That wasn't real."

"It was real to me.”

Her eyes snapped open. "I know. I didn't think you would remember. Otherwise, I wouldn't have..." she trailed off.

"I thought you were drawing things out, toying with me. But that's not it at all, is it?" I moved in closer, pressed my lips to the spot where my finger was against her throat. "You had to have known I liked what I saw when you walked through my dreams. So why don't you want to show me now?"

"Because it shouldn’t happen. We’re two very different creatures. Because it might be fun now, but you'll grow bored. I can’t let this go too far when I can spend my last years alone and in peace."

"I could never be bored around you," I said. It was true. I came from a family of monsters, and I wasn't afraid of the secrets she carried with her; I wanted to learn them all. "Please let me do this for you."

She relaxed and dipped her chin in compliance. I traced my hand down her damp chest, letting her breasts fill my cupped hands before I dropped my fingers down to the velvet moss gathered between her legs. I wanted to see how she looked, and I wanted to taste her.

I couldn't rationalize what I wanted from her exactly; I just knew I didn't want this to be the last time I'd get to be her offering. I didn't want to scare her off and end this strange and lovely thing between us.

The room was silent except for our heavy breathing. I cleared my throat and made a command to my phone to play Taylor Swift's Evermore album. The music played softly in the background; it was just enough to ease the quiet moment between us.

I moaned to finally feel that slick space in its natural form—the nub that was larger than my own, the folds that moved in from the sides. I took my time exploring every crest and valley there as she made low noises in her throat.

The first track on the album felt perfect as I slipped a finger inside her. "Maybe I should call you Willow when we’re being sweet," I whispered. "That's what I think of when I see you like this."

Her lower body quivered. "Not something so beautiful as a willow tree," she argued as her inner thighs shook.

"Yes," I insisted. "As beautiful and terrible as something you'd find out in nature." Her legs opened for me, and I looked where the glistening green moss parted, revealing an area that was brilliant in shades of yellow and violet. It seemed familiar, like a flower Baba had kept pressed between the pages of her botanical spells book. The words bee orchid flitted through my mind; the flower seemed to be a part of her. I let out a gasp and her thighs clamped toward each other, stopped only by my hands.

"No, I love it."

“Keep going then,” she urged quietly and relaxed.

I wrenched my eyes up to her face and moved to plant soft kisses at the sharp edges of her mouth. My fingers worked in circles until she finally came apart in my hands. We laid back against the tiles, and I draped an arm over her hip. I willed my arm to stay light, to not rest too heavily on her so she wouldn't push me away.

Chapter Eleven

We were about an hour away from home when I needed to stop for gas. I could probably make it back on fumes, but I wasn't going to risk getting stuck once I hit the middle of nowhere. Besides, I was ready to get back to the swamp. I was pretty sure the kikimora—Mora felt the same way too.

We'd dozed off the night before, wrapped in our towels. I'd awoken in the middle of the night, scared half out of my skull when I realized I hadn't put up any walls before falling asleep. It had taken me a few minutes to calm down and realize I didn't have to worry about the safety of another person lying next to me, or how I might flail at any unexpected spectral visitors as we slept.

Instead it had only been me and Rocket in the darkness. My monster had vanished into the night. I knew she could materialize in an instant if I called her to me, so I went back to sleep without worrying too much about it.

She was sitting at the foot of the bed when I woke up, waiting in her human form with a weak smile on her face. Something seemed to have shifted between us. The whole car ride had been quiet, tense even. When we rolled up to the gas station, I tried to inject as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could muster. I wanted to sense her excitement again, but all I could pick up on was a vague sense of unease. Maybe I had pushed too far. Maybe I was being too clingy.

"We can get some snacks while we're here," I said. "We're pretty close to home, and I've got no plans 'til tomorrow. I'm thinking candy and popcorn for a movie?"

Mora tensed and visibly flinched as the question dropped from my lips. I needed to pump the brakes, because I was clearly trying too hard to make her want to hang out with me. A pit of loneliness opened up in my belly. I was latching on too tight to this creature who had traveled so far for her freedom, for her own swamp, and I was assuming too much about what she wanted.

"Alright then," I spoke into the silence and climbed out to pump my gas. "I'll meet you inside if you want to look around."

A chime sounded as I pushed into the convenience store, scanning the small area for any sign of Mora. A pretty woman with tawny brown skin and a smattering of freckles smiled at me from the snack aisle. Her burgundy hair was gathered at the nape of her neck, and her off-shoulder blouse showed off a tattoo piece of a flower that threaded its way down below the line of fabric.

"Hi," she said, a smile brightening her face. “Damn, how do you get buff like that?" Her eyes dropped down to my biceps, which were on full display in my cuffed t-shirt.

“Uh. I just workout a lot." Awkward. I was losing my touch. It was hard to flirt when I had my mind on someone else. Someone who didn’t look so soft and delicate.

"Maybe you could show me some time?" she hinted. "Do you live close by?"

Sunlight shone through the dusty window at the other side of the store, casting light on the figure emerging from the drinks section. There was my tall goth girl. I shook my head.

"Sorry can’t. Just passing through," I murmured and made my way toward the one I was looking for. In the sunshine I could make out the highlights of emerald green streaking through her black hair. She brushed stray strands away from her blue eyes, and I felt winded—like I'd caught myself hoping for something impossible and had to have the idea knocked out of me.

"You should have gone with her," she said once we were back in the truck.

"Why would I do that? I've got you with me."

"You know I can be gone whenever I need to be. You’re human. You need that kind of interaction."

She wasn't completely wrong—I did thrive on social interaction. I loved traveling and partying, but what I needed more than anything was a safe spot to be myself. A space where I didn’t have to worry about anyone getting hurt.

"It's not like that. I don't want to drag anyone into my life like that. Not again."

"You should be safe now. We took care of Dmitri."

I lifted a hand from the steering wheel. "Sure, until he finds some way around my threat. That's not the only thing though; I can't really be myself around most people. What do I say, 'Oh by the way, I've helped to cover a few murders, hope you don't mind!' Or how about, 'Don't mind me if I fall asleep and wake up possessed by a demon!' I never know what kind of trouble I might drag someone into. I'm sick of it."

"You're stronger than that," she said. "You wouldn't let that happen."

"That's not guaranteed." I shrugged as though I didn't worry about it all the time. "I don't need to go out flirting, not when I have a delightful swamp creature willing to have me," I said playfully, hoping to ease the mood. I was met with silence where I'd been hoping for a grunt of laughter.

"You don't want that. Not from me."

"Why not?" I challenged her. "If you're lonely, and I'm lonely, and we're having fun together, then why can't I want that?"

"Because I was meant to fade away," she hissed out. Her voice was human, but I heard the monster inside. "When Nika died I wondered what thread kept me tied to this world. I got my answer in the form of a sarcastic misfit who had forgotten she remembered me.”

“I’m confused. You wanted to fade away?”

“It’s the natural way of things. Yes. I was supposed to leave with Nika; all I would have left behind was a bit of lore.”

“That’s what kept you real to me. The stories. The legends. I think they scared me enough to make me believe…” I whispered, sadness flooding through me at the thought of her being alone for months in the swamp, not knowing why she was still there.

“I only wanted my peace. Then you came, and I was curious to see how you remembered me. Oh, you caused so much trouble in such a short amount of time.” Her breath caught with a gnash of her teeth. "I wasn't expecting what I found when I walked through your dreams—that someone might look at me and feel something aside from fear. But I am meant to cause fear. I've grown soft for humans. Most especially you. The creatures of the marshes were right—I've never played this role the way I was supposed to."

"Is this about your Leshy? Screw him for making you feel like you're not enough. I hope he has faded away if he made you feel like this for all these years." I shook my head. This conversation wasn't going in the right direction, and I didn't feel like I was helping matters.

“I’m not a human, Nadezhda. I cannot be one. Please, stay safe. Be well.”

"What happens now? You want to go back to your swamp to be forgotten?"

"Yes."

My heart sank at the brevity of the word.

"But won't you be here until I—until I die?"

"Yes, but I won’t hold you back from the mortal life you were meant to live when you have such precious little time. I won't be enough, not when you have a chance to do so much more. This trip was my gift to you, to show your power." She touched her fingers gently to my cheek. “It was a gift to me too. Let my stories fade away now.”

"That is bullshit." I gripped the steering wheel hard. She vanished from my peripheral vision, and I glanced to see Rocket perched in the seat. Mora was gone. It was like she had never been there, like the past few days had been some weird fever dream that wouldn't let me go.

* * *

I was lost in a dark void of thought as I started to wind through the wetlands and groves that marked the place where the rest of the city fell away and my property began. I hadn't turned the music back on or taken my eyes off the road. I had too many competing thoughts trying to worm their way into my mind, and I didn't want to dwell on any of them, so I kept my walls up. I was good at blocking out anything I didn't really want to think about.

Rocket sat up on his haunches, snapping me out of my tunnel vision. Up ahead were the old rusted pickups that had made their graves at the side of the desolate road. I pulled the car over several yards before them. Something was off. Rocket let out a low snarl and I got out, ready to explore. I squinted against the sun, which was growing hotter by the hour. Something shone too crisp and metallic between the dull peeling paint of the trucks.

A handlebar stuck out past a side mirror that was dangling against the side of an old Chevy. A motorcycle. A small spike of fear poked at my ribs. Had Dmitri already sent someone after me? We were always at each other's throats, but I never thought he'd actually go further than putting my loved ones in danger. I never had a doubt he wanted to keep me alive. I supposed after our last meeting I should be more careful.

I flexed my fingers by my side, readying my hands in case the ambush came to blows. Stepping carefully past the truck bed, I crept to the space between until I could touch the Harley-Davidson. The rider was nowhere in sight. I squeezed past a fallen bumper to the place where the cleared path had been overtaken by wildrye grass and began to soften with marshy waters.

A tall slender woman stood there in rubber boots with water up to her ankles. Her chin was tucked down over a device, and she wore a thin cardigan over a button-up blouse. Dmitri really needed to find better assassins if this was who he sent.

"Um. Excuse me, but this is private property. I'm assuming my cousin sent you, but trespassing laws still apply." I really hoped the device she was holding wasn't a weapon, because she seemed too interested in it to acknowledge me. She held up a finger, and the device beeped several times.

"One moment. I think I've got something here."

I rubbed my fingers against my eyes. I wanted to lie down and shut the world out. I didn't want to deal with whatever this was. But it didn't look like my little problem was willing to wade out of the muck until she had what she came for.

"Call Dmitri and tell him if he has an issue to come here and deal with it himself," I called out to her. She lifted her head and pushed her shaggy brown bangs out of her eyes. She was a white girl whose foundation had oxidized to a shade of orange in the humidity—a clear sign that she wasn't from these parts. Who wore full coverage to hang out in the swamp in this heat?

She tucked the device into a pocket of her cargo pants. "I don't know any Dmitri. Sorry," she said, fishing a notebook out of the brown messenger bag strapped across her chest. "I don't have any issues either, just a few questions."

"I'm sorry, who the hell are you?"

She blinked at my question and jerked her head back like I was the one being rude.

"Since you appear to be the only person who lives on this property, I'll assume you know about the activity going on here." I shot her a puzzled look and she continued, "I'm Amber, I'm a member of the Uncanny Society. We're observers of supernatural creatures; our duty is to catalog the anomalies we find in nature."

It was my turn to blink slowly in response. "Y'all do this for fun?"

"Well yes, sort of. If you answer some questions to confirm what I think is going on here, then I can explain the whole thing. It might be beneficial for you too..." She stopped herself short at the stony look on my face. Even if I was curious, I hadn't forgotten what Mora really wanted—a place to fade away in peace. As much as I didn't like that choice, I wasn't going to let some bird-watchers who stalked monsters for fun take that from her.

I remembered how Mora had set her face when she put on her act for Dmitri. If she could do that for me, then I could do this for her. I would keep this spot safe.

"No."

"No?"

"Not interested."

I stepped closer. I had grown up as the oddball of my family, but I had learned so very well from them. I could be a monster when I wanted to, and this woman needed to be afraid if I didn’t want this place to become a revolving door for paranormal weirdos.

We were far away from everything; the buzz of insects was the only noise aside from the mud sucking under my shoes.

"You seem nice, but you need to be careful messing around in these parts. Lots of danger lurking in the swamplands."

She dropped the notebook and shuffled to pick up the papers that had scattered to the ground. I bent down to help her.

"What I detected might prove the monster is inclined to be friendly towards humans," Amber said, clearing her throat.

I pressed the soiled pages back into her hands and met her eyes. "The monster isn't who you need to be afraid of. Lots of people tend to lose their way out here, go missing all the time. I wouldn't want that to happen to you."

She caught the steel behind my eyes and swayed as she backed up.

"Thank you for your time. I'll be on my way. I think I have enough information." She hurried past me to her motorcycle.

"Amber?"

She lifted her chin as she fitted her helmet. "Yes?"

"You didn't detect anything over here. I know I won’t see you or any other members of your society around here again."

I didn't check over my shoulder to see if she acknowledged me. She seemed harmless enough—there were plenty of regular people who dabbled in the occult and walked along the edge of something more dangerous than they could imagine, but I wasn't going to entertain her ideas. Not when my kikimora was out there doing her best to be forgotten.

My mood plummeted with the thought. It turned out I couldn't put off the deep sadness that came with the absence of my favorite monster.

Chapter Twelve

Ten... eleven... "Fuck this."

I stopped halfway into a pull up and dropped down from the bar I'd hung up behind my door. I curled up into a seat on the floor the moment my feet hit the ground. I'd already gone on a hard run through the unkempt trails with overgrown grass scratching at my cheeks and arms. I was exhausted.

I'd tried to push the kikimora from my mind, but I couldn't stop myself from wondering if the vibrations from my heavy footsteps carried to wherever she was, if she could hear my silent pleas for her to show herself.

I scrubbed my hands over my face. Shit had only gone down a few hours ago, so it was normal for it to still feel fresh. The hurt would heal with time. It always did. But doubt crept its way into that positive thought; this was different.

I'd never had to deal with a breakup that left me in close proximity to the one I wanted. Now I'd have to spend my life wandering the property, wondering how the kikimora was spending the rest of her days. I'd have to move. I really couldn’t though. Not when someone needed to protect the place for Mora. I couldn't trust that my family wouldn’t sell the property, and apparently I couldn't even leave the place for a day without worrying about someone showing up.

I had to find a better way to cope for the time-being. I sat down to draw, opening my folder of half-done sketches. The portrait of Mora slipped out and fell to the floor. Drawing her seemed like it went against her wishes to be forgotten, but I couldn’t tear it up, not yet. I’d fold it up and keep it somewhere safe until I got the guts to do it.

Art was out of the question for now, so I turned to Baba's method for ignoring problems. I vacuumed every square inch of the carpeted surface and dusted the pink sitting room, paying special attention to the glass shades of her Tiffany lamps. I changed the linens in the two bedrooms and organized the silverware.

I opened the kitchen cabinet to sift through the ovenware, and a hunk of metal hit the ground, just missing my big toe. I turned the piece over in my hands and ran my fingers over the wildflower molding on the indented side.

Memories came flooding back from the days of baking soft breads. My grandmother would smooth her hands on her apron as we prepared gifts for the new mothers at her church. I missed the tradition we used to infuse into the most mundane things, the magic of connections and stories.

I pulled out a bag of flour and sifted it through my hands. It gave me an idea. Not the best idea I'd ever had, but it was something better than trying to wait out my sadness. I sang my wishes for peace and a long friendship over the rising yeast, just as Baba had taught me. No matter how much had changed since she'd taken care of me, I'd carried her stories with me, and now I would honor the traditions she'd shared—not in the way my family had twisted them, but in the way that I knew how.

It was well past midnight when I flipped the hot pan over and packed a basket. I tore off into the night before I lost my nerve.

* * *

"You're out here. I know you are," I called out, the LED candle I'd swiped off the counter lighting the way. The blue button-up I'd pulled on hit me mid-thighs and clung to my damp skin. I felt gross, but I didn't care. "I have something for you."

The basket swung awkwardly at my side. This has to be an all-time low for me, I thought. So desperate for company. I stamped my foot into the wet ground. It wasn't desperation to want someone you liked at your side. There was nothing wrong with telling someone you wanted them to stick around.

"Shit," I whispered, spotting something approaching from the rustling cattails. I lifted my candle; it definitely wasn’t a sexy creature made of swamp bits, but a gator making its way toward me. "Mora," I said a little louder, backing up. "Come on, you're not going to let this thing eat me, are you?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. It would probably be better for her if I did get eaten. It would shave sixty something years off her waiting time to fade away.

My stomach clenched. All that she had done in the past few days had been for me. She could have let me deal with Dmitri on my own or get eaten by a gator. She could have been released from her binds to the Earth by now. But she had chosen to help me.

"Mora. My Willow," I said softly, keeping one eye on the gator whose jaws snapped open and shut.

"He's a baby. You know he won't hurt you," Mora whispered. Her voice was close enough that I could feel her breath at the back of my neck. Something hard and pointed pressed into the wing of my shoulder, and I knew from the touch that it was one of her strange fingers.

Her voice dropped into a growl, "Not a creature in this swamp would dare to harm you while I'm around."

"Then why did you want to leave me all alone here?"

"You were never going to be alone here," she breathed against my ear, causing my hair to stand on end, not with fear but with wanting. "You were meant to be free, to live life as you please. But darling, don't think that I would ever truly leave you alone."

I sighed as the branch of her finger traced its way down the fabric of my sleeve. The gator bellowed but made a great show of circling its way back into the water, looking like a very scaly toddler throwing a tantrum. I would have laughed if I wasn't so aware of the kikimora's power, how every creature here was under her spell. That included me.

I licked my lips. "You know you don't have to lurk in the shadows to keep me safe, right? My life will never be completely free from the paranormal, and you know it. But we can help each other. You can help me stay safe from whatever my family throws my way, and I can keep this property protected under my name for as long as I live. Your memory fades when I'm gone, so why can't we enjoy that time?"

A lock of seaweed hair fell over my shoulder as she shifted behind me, and my breath caught. I turned toward her, stunned when I met the incandescent blue of her eyes.

"I'm not meant to be so soft," she said, leaning down toward me. Her teeth were visible against the dark of the night.

"Neither am I. But we can be soft together, save our toughness for when it's needed." I gave her a pleading look and lifted the basket between us. "Let me make you a proper offering."

Several breaths filled the silence before she wrapped her long arm around my back.

"Come with me. Leave the light. I will take this offering to my altar."

I shivered at the suggestion, but let her unwind her grip down to a loose hold on my wrist and followed her to the edge of the swamp where the ground began to sink into the muddy water.

"Umm," I said, resisting as she stepped in up to her ankles. "I don't think humans should swim in a swamp." I thought of everything that lurked below and shuddered.

"I'll keep you safe," she said and held her free hand out before her, letting the leaves dripping from her fingers unfurl into the water.

The surface glowed with thousands of greenish-yellow lights. I squinted at the moving dots. Fireflies. So many of the flying insects hovered above the surface, lighting the way. I shucked off my shoes and stepped in behind her until the water was up to my thighs and my shirttails floated. I wasn't afraid anymore, I had the apex predator of this swamp to guard the way, and every bug, every reptile stayed clear as we walked through the warm water.

I held the basket up in my fist as the water rose to just below my navel. We were past the bend where only the cypress trees and tall grass dared to grow up against the curve of the water. I'd never ventured out this far on the property. None of my family had.

It belongs to the kikimora. My grandmother had said that, back when I thought it was all make-believe. Now I was fascinated by the things that used to scare me. My heart pounded as we made our way to a territory that was unknown to me. I wanted this for myself. I wanted to give myself over to the kikimora, the one whose stories had frightened me so much they'd come to life inside my mind.

We were a vital part of each other now.

"Here," she said, tugging me gently around her body to a soft ledge.

Her hands dropped to my waist, and I tensed as she began to lift me. I'd worked so hard to make myself strong that the strength behind me felt unnecessary and alien, but it was luxurious to be treated with such tenderness. I sat the basket down on the grassy surface and reached a hand out to her. I knew she didn't need it either, but it was nice to return the favor.

"Grab the basket, we're almost there," she said, the rasp in her voice making her sound impatient. I followed in the muddy footprints that dented the earth until we came to a pile of smooth white branches stacked in a pitched triangle. Mud had been caked and laid with stones leading up to the structure where a strange wood bench sat. The altar.

She climbed the short steps and leaned against the wood. Her eyes cut to two slashes above her cheeks. "You have brought me your offering?"

Instinctively, I sank down to my knees before the steps. "I have."

"Describe what you've brought and what you're asking for in return."

I opened the basket in front of her and lifted a blue glass salt shaker before setting it down. Then I pulled out the warm bread and traced my fingers over the flower pattern before pressing into the golden brown crust. I ripped it apart in my hands, the scent of rosemary I'd folded into the dough wafting in the air. Her mouth opened in surprise, and I caught the flicker of recognition in the glow of her eyes. This offering was one that had traveled all the way from the place she'd come from, it spanned the centuries she'd lived.

"I've brought you bread and salt in offering, and in welcome. So that this place might be a home for both of us."

"And what do you wish for in return?"

"Only what I'm offering you: companionship and protection."

"I accept, Nadezhda," she said, kneeling to pat the wooden bench. "But do you offer yourself freely?"

"Yes."

"Then join me," she beckoned, and I stepped on the packed-dirt steps until I met her, my bread and basket still in hand. I held the bread out for her on my palm, letting her snap it up in her teeth before she nudged her maw to the buttons of my shirt. She took the fabric in her mouth, tearing it off with her teeth until I was standing in just my boyshorts. I dropped them to the ground and stepped out, so I was just as naked as she was.

"Good, you offer yourself up so nicely," she practically purred, pressing toward me until my ass was against the smooth wood of the bench. I opened my legs for her.

"It's all for you," I said, looking where she had her hands pressed to each side of my hips. Before I could say anything else, she kissed my clit and began to lap at my center, working her tongue in and out of me. It was good, too good, and I needed it to last. I wanted to come with the taste of her on my lips.

"Such a pretty offering," she said, careful to draw back as she made the words. She grazed her teeth along my inner thighs. I worked my fingers down past my clit and worked one, then two, into myself.

"You like this?" I asked, working my fingers back and forth while she watched. I pulled them out and ran them over her lips. Her mouth opened for me, and her tongue flicked around my fingers, licking them clean. "I want to taste you too. Let me be an offering that pleases you."

I kissed my way down the swell of her breasts to her abdomen until my breath puffed against her mossy green curls, and I came from my seat, bringing her to the dirt floor with me. She was velvet against my lips as I worked down to where she was slick below. I lifted two fingers to part her folds, revealing the beautiful orchid of her sex.

My tongue wasn't long or impressive like hers, but I knew how to work it when I needed to. I closed my eyes and pressed my tongue against the hard petal at the top. She growled and pressed her hips forward, moving into me, and I circled her with the broad flat of my tongue. I could taste her nectar there. I brought my fingers up to her entrance, dancing there a moment before I worked into her.

"Nadezhda," she sighed out, the tendrils of her hair cascading down when she threw her head back. I dove in deeper until her clit was a tight bud in my mouth.

I drew back, biting my lips. Mora sat up on her forearms with an irritated look. I couldn't blame her—I wanted to keep going too, but this was a special moment. I couldn't let it go by too quickly. I crawled over toward the basket and pulled out something for both of us: my union double dildo.

"I wanted to do this right, as an offering." She twined her fingers around it. "I can help you if you want," I offered, very aware of the shyness in my voice. She nodded, and I slid down to my knees, working my fingers back into her wet tightness for a moment before I pressed the bulb to her entrance. She let out a low moan as I worked it into her, the longer end sticking out, purple and rounded.

I got up and wrapped my arms around her, letting her rock the silicone piece against me until she picked me up and laid me on the ground before her altar

"Open up for me," she ordered, stroking a finger along the toy. I straddled my legs apart beneath her, letting her enter me slowly. I stretched around the toy as she worked its length into me; it was intense, but I was wet enough to enjoy the sensation. I pulled in a breath when we joined, and Mora craned her neck down to run her lips over my face, nuzzling into my neck. I lifted my hips to meet her, and she pulled back before driving deep into me. I clung to her arms as we moved together, the altar visible when I rolled my eyes back.

"Yes, take me," I encouraged her, arching my back so that my nipples pressed into her skin. I loved the closeness of it all. Mora met me with her own feral grunts and growls as her thrusts transformed from something slow and deep to quick, frenzied movements. My hair tangled in the twigs protruding from the base of the altar, leaves and dried grass crushed beneath my back. I wanted it all; I wanted to feel the bits of gravel indented into my skin when this was done.

"Take all of me too," she said, her breath hot on my skin. I knew as she pumped her hips into me that the toy’s bulb was pressing into that top petal of hers; it would feel amazing there. I felt my low abdomen clench, the warning that the wave of my orgasm was inevitable. I lifted my head and pressed my mouth to her collarbone, muffling my cries as she took me the rest of the way to my climax, one of her hands snaking behind my head to hold me there, to press me close.

She made a strangled noise as she followed me over the edge. With a few movements of her hips, Mora melted into me and rolled us onto our sides, where she wound her legs up with mine. I touched my thumb to the sharp corner of her mouth, stroking it softly. Her eyes lit up, tiny pricks of starlight set in the azure background. She hummed out a breath and gave one more gentle thrust of her hips. I bounced back on the movement, surprised by the sensation it created on the final wave of my orgasm.

"It is done, then. You've made your offering," she whispered.

I stretched my legs, pointing and flexing my toes so that they scraped at her shins. "I hope it was to your liking," I chuckled, "and I hope it helps you to stay strong and solid with me until we're both gone."

"I think I'm stronger than I've ever been."

"Me too."

We stayed like that for a long time, my head resting in her arms. Before I closed my eyes, I took a few moments to put my walls up. I didn't want anything interrupting my dreams when they were guaranteed to be sweet ones. But I knew I was safe here; we both were. Sure, people might try to steal our peace from time to time, but we would always have each other's backs.

At that moment, I knew what had called me back to this place. It was our swamp, our home, and we were bound to protect it. We wouldn't let anyone take it from us.

Acknowledgments

First, I want to say thank you to my monster lover friends and the whole Wordmakers group. This whole experience has been amazing, and I’m so glad I’ve found other writers that I can talk about all the weird monster things with. Special shoutout to Coralie for answering so many questions and designing the cover, and to Katrina for the helpful beta read. I wouldn’t have had the confidence to put this story out into the world without you all!

As always, my beloved encouraged me to run wild with my story. XOXO

And to the readers, thank you so much for getting this far! I’m so glad you monster lovers exist and want to read stories like this!

Love,

Darva

About the Author

Darva writes steamy romances and has a soft spot for sexy monsters.

You can stay up to date on her stories by visiting her site at https://darvagreenthewriter.com/

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