11. Cyrus
CYRUS
I’d barely been able to stand still before the green lights flashed.
I forced myself to. The last thing I needed was for Nash and Blade to see how desperate I was.
They couldn’t know that I wanted her.
I’d needed a hunt for months. Fright Nights ran in my veins. Dealing with The Oracle’s trash was one thing, a good relief. But a real game was something else entirely.
And I needed the release.
But when the park was washed in emerald light, the beast inside me unleashed. Storming toward the center of the park, I moved quickly.
Blade was basically sprinting ahead of me, doubling back to not go too far without Nash and I. She hurdled over counters and booths, kicking off walls as she tried to burn off the initial excitement of the night.
I listened to the sounds of Feverpoint, ignoring the rattling rides and carnival music crackling over the speakers.
Behind my eyelids, images of my captive running away and into the darkness played on a loop. It was fun to watch the girls skitter off, like they stood a chance against me and my two clowns.
And this one was a particular pleasure to watch.
I didn’t know why, still unsure why I made the deal to begin with. We never let the girls stay. Ever. It was dangerous.
We existed outside this place — participated in normal society. Not that anyone would have guessed where we called home. Or what we did in the abyss.
If they knew what Fright Night looked like… even Dom Dumont might try to kick us out.
Smelling the air. I searched for any trace of my new toy.
She was gorgeous, those blue eyes burned into my eyes.
And cocky too.
It would be fun to break her.
She thinks she knows how to outsmart us. But we designed the trap.
Blade had already warned her that only one other woman had escaped our grasp. Cheating little shit.
She hadn’t earned it. I’d hardly wanted to let her go. Except that I couldn’t stand that one.
But this bleach blonde pistol was something else.
Shaking the thought, I snarled as I came to a standstill at the round intersection at the very center of Feverpoint.
I wasn’t going to get attached. She was a new plaything. That’s all.
Two hundred acres stretched out beyond this point. And she could have chosen anywhere.
But all of us knew where she’d go first.
To that hole in the fence, the one Blade had offered to patch up before we let her loose in our little game.
I’d told her to leave it. A test of sorts.
Who could blame her for wanting to run away?
I caught a glimpse of my stitched mask in the broken reflection of a funhouse mirror. We were fucking nuts. And she’d be fucking stupid to stick around.
But our captive had a fire in her. One I recognized.
The Prophecy promised her return.
With my free hand, I reached for the raised skin on the back of my neck.
The Three of Swords.
But I rubbed the stubbly hair on top of my head, setting my eyes forward.
It wasn’t her. How could it be?
I would have recognized her.
Pulling me from my mind, Nash reached into her pockets and rested her mallet — named Trixie — on her hip.
She pulled out a metal tin, pulling off the lid and revealing the stack of cards. Holding them out toward me, she nodded.
But I shook my head, wanting Nash’s touch on the draw.
“Let the cards speak.” Nash let out a deep breath as she lifted the deck from the box. Delicate, Nash shuffled the cards in her hands.
My heart raced in my chest, willing the cards to send me to her.
With the blacked out tip of her middle finger, Nash pulled three cards, passing one to each of us.
She flipped hers first, “Hermit.” Rolling her eyes, I could see the annoyance on Nash’s face. Off to Noir Nights. At least for the first six hours of the hunt.
Blade was next. Moving quickly, hardly bothering to look at the image, Blade laughed. “Ha, Three of Cups. Get fucked.”
Fucker.
That’s where the hole in the fence was. Which meant Blade was almost guaranteed to find her. It wasn’t the only card that could lead to the carnival section.
But the cards had a funny way of playing tricks on me. They loved to favor the non-believer. Always punishing me for trusting them.
Clenching my jaw, I flipped my card. “Temperance.” At the center of the old, faded image was a person with angel's wings, pouring one cup of water into another. The cups balanced above a calm lake below.
“Fucking Rapid Rush.” A defunct old waterpark at the opposite edge of the park from our captive’s likely exit.
Blade winced. “Ooh, better luck next time.” Twirling her twin axes in her hands, Blade winked and zipped off into the park.
Calling after her, Nash yelled. “Call for us if she escapes.”
Blade raised her ax over her head, before letting out a hideous cackle.
As Nash took off toward Noir Nights, she let out a haunting call. “Ready or not!”
Pounding my fist into my chest, I let out one roar. A warning that I’d find her. Even if it took me an eternity of Fright Nights. I would have my turn with this one if it killed me.
I ran to my section before quieting my steps. At the entrance of Rapid Rush, I shook out my shoulders and let my machete hang from my hands.
Slowly, I moved through the park. I stalked my prey like a lioness, crouching and watching the dark corners of the rides.
As unlikely as it was that “Mary” would be over here, I wasn’t going to blow my shot. There was a chance that twenty grand was enticing enough for a girl like her. Running may not have been the best financial plan.
I walked past the vast, empty wave pool. A memory flashing in the back of my mind. Playing, splashing. We were laughing. All of us, always laughing.
It was silent now. All the noise of that joy slaughtered by the reality of where we’d ended up.
I was going to fulfill the prophecy if it fucking killed me.
Ducking below the steep plunge of the towering slide, I held still.
A creak came from one of the knocked over mechanical boxes.
Maybe this woman had been dumb enough to really play our game. A maze she’d never be able to find her way out of.
Creeping over, I brought the tip of my machete to the edge of the small door.
A laugh ripped through my chest. “Time’s up.”