Mona X Scaramouche Novels & Stories

I whimpered as pain shot from deep inside me, clutching my heart as it sank. “NOOOOOOOO!!!” Monica screamed on top of her lungs, and before we knew it, Gina shifted in all fours and made a leap for the dark pair a few feet above us. She was almost grabbing them when Xavier threw a kick onto her face, which sent her crashing back on the floor. “It won't be only your pups that I end.” Xavier’s venomous tone calmly muttered. It was him? HIM?!

A burn of pain ripped through my face as she dragged the sharp tip of the scissors down the unscarred side of my face, engraving a thick line from my hairline down to my jaw. I screamed in pain as blood began to pour down my pain. "Rest in pieces, Renee" I lay there, feeling my life slip away, too drained to even cry. I may have lived my whole life with a horribly scarred face and been branded a monster, but that day, I realized that there were people worse than monsters.

And they prohibited most of the abilities that make me a demon from usage. I nickname the man Jerk, although my clairvoyance told me he is a regular human nicknamed Jackal. I don’t know what business he has with Scarlet, but she is allowing him to flip up her skirt under the covered table, which I can see from the table behind. His left-hand glides down her skirt and feels her bare bottom. She is wearing a lacy thong that matches her bra and while seeing the lace gives me a reaction; I am jealous that someone else, instead of me, has his dirty fingers touching her intimate parts.

You sound like Tommy," she said as Scar helped her onto her feet. "Trust me, love, if Tommy had found you," she said giving her a look, "You'd be dead," Jasmine chuckled as Scar helped her towards the red Mazda MX-5. "Hey, Scar, can you not take me back to Tommy," she begged to only get a sigh in return, "That's not a really good idea, Jasmine, especially if Tommy knows you're gone," she said, as Jasmine scolded.

Sierra laughed, “don’t worry Kate. You can tell me my wolf was pretty. I thinks she’s pretty too and Grace, my wolf says thanks." “Mona told me almost everything. Every time she hurt me, I could ask a question.” I said. Sierra looked at my face, as if she was studying it. The last time Mona had hurt me, she had cut open my face. Did I have a horrible scar? “Do I look really bad?” I asked. Sierra shook her head and touched my face, “no, you have a small scar across your eyebrow. But it suits you. You look really bad ass, but you're still incredibly beautiful.”

He walked to the mafia Don and gave him a big hug. Angelina watched the mafia Don silently, wondering who the friend was because it seemed as if they were really close. Apart from Diego, Angel has never met any of Xavier's friends. “ Long time no see mate.” The man complained when they pulled off the hug. “And who is she? Is she your wife?” The blondie asked, looking at Angelina curiously. Even though Angel didn't know the man, she could tell that he and Xavier used to be close. “ Angelina, meet William Scot. He's one of the motorcycle racers and an old friend.” Xavier introduced William to Angelina and her eyes popped out when she realised what was going on.

The young vamp wolf slashed his talons against one harpie after another as they fell to the ground. As Scott landed on the ground, he and Olivia made their way to Shamous. “That cane of yours can’t help you now,” Olivia said. “Don’t be too sure, Witch Detective,” Shamous chuckled as he swung the cane around, farming a vortex that absorbed the fallen harpies. Their bodies merged to form a massive four-legged beast composed of teal and green energy monolith nearly ten feet tall. “Is it wrong that I’m numb to this type of stuff?” Scott said.

I stood, calm and controlled. “She’s neither.” Mona’s eyes gleamed as she closed the last of the space between us. She was close enough that I could see the scar near her collarbone—the one she kept visible on purpose. “She should be one or the other,” she whispered. “Soon. Because people are watching. And in our world, blurred lines don’t stay blurred. They get… erased.” Her hand grazed my lapel, too familiar. I didn’t flinch, but the glass in my hand cracked—just enough for a line of red to run down my wrist.

"Do you consider us weird?" "No, Mistress Clara." "No?" Shamira asked incredulously. "Bondage vampires from hell isn't weird?" "Monique is a werewolf, not a vampire. And no, it isn't odd for us at all." "Werewolf?" Clara smiled. "Our guest is a woman of few words," she said. "Monique, I think she might like a display." "Display?" Shamira asked. "What kind of display?" Monique stood up and quickly undressed. While this was happening, Shamira pulled on the sweats, which were way too tight for her. Her breasts were amazingly firm (thank you Mr. Plastic Surgeon), so the lack of a bra wasn't a problem.

The street lights flickered past, Luca’s jaw locked, his eyes forward, his hands trembling on his gun. Noa’s phone buzzed. Unknown number. A message. Got your monster. Try and take him. -D. The van swerved as Noa’s scream split the night.