Of Monsters Of Kings (Unworldly City #1) by Kelly St. Clare EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Kelly St. Clare
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.8 MB
- Price: Free
A simple thing, really, how I came to know of monsters.
People were monsters.
I wiggled free a clump of hair, soap, and dead skin from the clogged shower drain.
There had to be any number of bodily sheddings caught in the slimy mass. Humans
were disgusting creatures, really; our habits, the workings of our insides, who we
were… the vices we kept buried.
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“Ugly through and through.” I smiled and tossed the congealed mass of
miscellaneous into a bucket along with the plunger.
Towels changed.
Dishes washed.
Surfaces wiped.
Once the floor was gleaming, I grabbed the checklist from the cleaning cart
outside, then walked through the studio, ticking off tasks to ensure I’d completed
everything to perfection. I’d worked at the only hotel in Vitale for three months, and a
promotion and pay rise were so close, I could almost feel them. Soon, this job would
pay the entirety of our bills, and I wouldn’t need to pawn our belongings to make up
the difference.
In six months, I’d run this place.
Despite completing my tasks to perfection, the room itself had parted ways with
that potential long ago. Stale smoke saturated the furniture. Floral wallpaper was torn
on corners and cracked around fittings. I’d never seen wallpaper before starting here,
so the cracked and torn stuff still seemed luxurious.
In the apartment rooms, the
wallpaper was even pristine, holding its rich burgundies and warm beiges. I preferred
studios like this, worn and ripped from stories absorbed. Stale smoke trumped the
conventional lemon-spray scent of the highest-rate apartments any day. Those
apartments held the same grime as this studio, but only one wore theirs for all to see.
Straightening a wrinkle on the yellowed lace valance, I then vacuumed and
mopped.
After a third check of the list, I forced myself to push the creaking cleaning cart
forward past room twelve—where a guest had hung a Do Not Disturb sign—to room
thirteen.
From the top.
A violent hiss jolted the air.
“Goodness.” I pressed a hand against my chest, feeling the rapid thumps of my
heart.
Ssssssssss came the hiss again.
Mornings tended to be quiet, with guests still asleep, checked out, or already
exploring Vitale.
I peered over the metal balustrade of the first level and scanned the cobbled
courtyard below.
A man, if that was what he could be called, lurked outside the dusty, glass door
of reception. The guy must’ve eaten a wilder ox when young, for he’d taken on some
ox traits, but the enormity of his canvas didn’t distract from his conventional beauty.
What a shame—though many friends I used to have would find him extremely
handsome.
Ox rattled a can of spray paint. Clink, clink, clink. Another violent hiss disturbed
the quiet as he finished spraying a giant red X on the reception door.
My browsshot up. How brazen. Frank’sforehead veins would bulge over that one.
“Keep your head down, Patch,” I chided. Graffiti, ox men, and bulging veins were
none of my business. All I needed was a job with the right hours and pay. This job,
in other words.
Back to work.
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