Free Only a Monster by Vanessa Len

you.”
    She wasn’t making sense. “Gran, please,” Joan said. “You need to save your strength.”
    â€œHush,” Gran said. “I will speak. You will not.” Despite the pain, Gran’s green eyes were as sharp as ever. “Only you can stop the hero, Joan.”
    Joan stared at Gran. She had to be delirious.
    â€œI’m so sorry, my love, but—” Gran tried to take a breath and choked. Again and then again.
    â€œ Gran ,” Joan said. She felt as though she were holding Gran together with her bare hands and couldn’t hold her hard enough.
    Gran caught her breath. “Can Ruth hear us?” she rasped. The effort of speaking seemed to be exhausting her.
    Ruth was by one of the windows now. Joan drew a breath to call for her, but Gran put her hand over Joan’s. “No,” Gran managed. “Just—” Her face tightened with agony. She tried again. “Just. Can she hear us?”
    Joan shook her head.
    â€œJoan, you’re in very grave danger.” Gran’s voice was getting weaker. Joan had to strain to hear her. “Graver than you know. Someday soon you’ll come into an ability. A power.”
    â€œThe Hunt—”
    â€œNot the Hunt power,” Gran whispered. “Another. You can trust no one with the knowledge of it.”
    Joan looked over at Ruth. She was still working on the window.
    â€œNo,” Gran whispered. “Not Ruth. Not anyone. Promise me you’ll tell no one of it.”
    Joan could trust Ruth with anything. “But Ruth—”
    Gran’s hand came up to clasp Joan’s wrist. The ruby on her wedding ring glinted dully, the same color as all the blood. “Promise me,” Gran ground out. “ Say it.”
    â€œI promise,” Joan whispered hoarsely.
    Gran sighed in apparent relief. Her hand slipped from Joan’s wrist.
    She’d left something behind. Joan stared down numbly. Gran had placed a fine-chained gold necklace with a pendant over Joan’s wrist. It was draped loosely over Joan’s Hunt bracelet, and the two chains seemed to blur together as Joan stared at them.
    After a time, she heard Ruth’s pattering footsteps and then Ruth threw herself down to the floor. Dark curls were stuck to her forehead. “Gran, I got the window open.”
    Gran didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed.
    Ruth touched Gran’s shoulder gently. “Gran, we can get you out. Joan and I can lift you.”
    Gran didn’t open her eyes.
    Ruth gave Joan an uneasy look. She touched Gran’s cheek and then hovered her palm above Gran’s mouth and nose.
    Gran was dead, Joan thought blankly. She was dead.
    â€œBut she . . .” Ruth sounded bewildered. “She told me she’d wait for me.”
    Joan wanted to tell her that Gran had tried, but all she could think of was Gran saying Only you can stop the hero. Gran had been delirious.
    A sound slowly entered Joan’s awareness. A muffled thumping. She’d been hearing it for a while, she realized. How long? She felt out of sync with the world. “Ruth, we have to get up,” she heard herself say.
    â€œHuh?” Ruth blinked. Her eyes focused dully on Joan.“Hey.” She squeezed Joan’s arm. “Stop.”
    Joan looked down. She was pressing Gran’s chest, as though she could still stanch the blood. She released the tension in her arms. Everything ached. She felt like she’d been ill for a week. Her hands and arms were a butcher’s shop.
    The gold necklace was still draped loosely over her wrist, incongruously delicate. Joan touched it, leaving bloodied fingerprints, very dark against the gold.
    The thumping sound was getting louder. Joan shook herself. She shoved the chain into her pocket and forced herself to her feet. Thump. The door to the passage jumped on its hinges. “Ruth,” she said. “We have to go.”
    Ruth was staring at