39. Wraith
Chapter 39
Wraith
T he bastard groans.
A low, wet sound that cuts through the electric hum of the lab like a spark in a gas leak.
The restraints creak.
Good.
He’s feeling them.
You’re not going anywhere.
I step closer, watching him twitch back to consciousness?—
savoring every second of it.
Neri doesn’t wait for my signal.
She reaches for her blade, all predator and promise.
“Oh yay,” she chirps, voice bright as a blade. “Sleeping Beauty’s up.”
She twirls her knife like it’s a party favor.
“Let’s ruin his morning.”
I catch her wrist.
Not rough .
Not soft either.
“Wait,” I say.
Not because I want to hear him talk.
But because I want to watch him pretend he still has control.
Let him try. Let him beg. Let him see what he made.
Voss lifts his head slowly. His face is wrecked—one eye nearly swollen shut, blood crusted along his jaw. He blinks through it, confused.
Then he sees her.
And he smiles.
Like he still thinks this is fixable.
“Lilian,” he says calmly, like they’re seated at a kitchen table and not a tomb built from his sins, “you don’t want to do this.”
Neri steps forward.
She lets me hold her back.
Just enough to keep the match from hitting the fuse.
For now.
Because the room is tilting, and something is shifting behind her eyes.
“Let’s see what he has to say,” I mutter.
Voss turns his gaze to me—sharp, cold, like I’m the inconvenience in the room.
“This doesn’t concern you,” he says. “She and I have work to finish.”
He looks back to her, and that’s when it happens.
“You’re not well,” he tells her. “You’ve been poisoned by him. You don’t have to be his pet. I can give you more. Power. Clarity. Truth. ”
Neri laughs.
It’s sharp—wild—unhinged.
“God, I want to rip your throat out,” she purrs.
“But someone else’s got dibs—and I am a generous bitch.”
Voss looks at me. I smirk. Bastard has no idea.
“Mm-mm. Not him. He’s just here for the show.”
She tilts her head.
Shoulders relax.
Smile creeps in—wrong for this setting.
Sweet and far too calm.
And when I look at their eyes?
One green. One hazel.
That started after the facility.
I noticed it the first time she opened her eyes—green when it was Lily, hazel when it was Neri. When they were both in there, co-piloting? One of each.
But they haven’t shifted once since we got here.
And now, standing in front of the man who made her this way, she wears them both like a crown.
One green. One hazel. Unchanging.
This isn’t a switch.
This is a final form.
They’re planning something in there. I can see it happen—silent conversation behind the glass. No one else would notice. Not even him.
She giggles softly.
Then looks straight at Voss and says, bright as a fucking sunrise?—
“No. It’s Britney, bitch.”
I bite down a laugh. Hard.
“That’s my girl!” Neri cheers.
Lily clasps her hands in front of her.
A soft giggle.
Like this is all just so exciting.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Voss freezes.
A second passes.
He doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t blink.
But she’s glowing.
Not like light.
Like fury dressed up in kindness.
She tilts her head. Smiles like he didn’t try to break her.
“I used to think you were busy. That you’d come back.
That if I was sweet enough, quiet enough, good enough… perfect?—
You’d finally see me.”
A soft laugh, almost dreamy.
“But you never looked, and you never loved me, did you?”
Voss’s face cracks. He starts to speak?—
But Lily lifts her hand, palm out, sweet as ever.
“No, Daddy. The time for talking is over.”
She takes a step closer, palms his cheek. Smiles tenderly down at him.
“I think it’s only fair that you experience your greatest creation.”
A pause.
“The child you do love.”
And then we move.
Neri cackles.
We each take an arm each .
“Front row seat to your own funeral, Doc. Hope you brought popcorn.”
We drag him from the chair toward the chamber at the back of the lab.
“You can’t do this!” he shouts. “I made you! You’re nothing without me!”
“No,” Lily says quietly. “We’re what bloomed after you tried to bury us.”
We throw him inside. I seal the chamber shut.
Neri punches in the override.
No hesitation. No flourish. Just vengeance in code form.
Greenish-black mist begins to flood the room.
Voss slams against the glass, screaming.
“He doesn’t love you. He just hates me. You were a means to an end—nothing more than something to be used.”
His skin starts to bubble.
Slow at first. Viscous. Inevitable.
Lily watches. Just for a beat.
Expression unreadable.
Then she turns to me.
“He doesn’t deserve to have us watch him die,” she says softly.
She steps back. Calm. Certain.
“He deserves to be alone in his misery.”
Behind her, the glass glows a sickly green.
“Perfect,” Neri grins. “I’ve seen this movie before. The ending fucking sucked.”
We turn.
The screaming follows us.
But none of us look back.
My eyes are locked on the pristine lab.
No.
Not leaving yet.
“Wait,” I say.
They freeze.
Then I nod toward the rows of counters, drawers, glowing screens.
“Smash everything. Scatter anything flammable. Time to burn it all down.”
Neri grins like Christmas came early.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Lily clasps her hands together. “Oh, goody. Arson with enrichment activities.”
“Oh sugarplum, I’m rubbing off on you in such a splendid way.”
They split without another word.
Neri starts yanking vials off the shelves and tossing them over her shoulder like salt for good luck.
Glass shatters across the tile.
Lily hums something soft under her breath—some upbeat tune—as she tips over a tray of scalpels with delicate precision.
“He had so many knives,” she murmurs.
“They’re not even fun ones,” Neri says, grabbing a tray and hurling it across the room.
It hits a wall with a satisfying clang.
The monitors go next.
Lily delicately unplugs one and gently scoots it to the edge of a table like a fucking cat—giving it one final push and sending to smash on the ground.
“Points for stealth attack,” Neri calls. “Deducting for follow-through. ”
“I’m more into psychological damage,” Lily says, flipping a clipboard through the air like she’s auditioning for a chaotic office supply ballet. “Think he’d cry if I alphabetized his trauma notes?”
“Bitch, yes,” Neri howls. “Now—don’t stop. This is like our very own rage room.”
I shake my head and chuckle.
The two of them together?
Yeah, it’ll be something alright.
Lily moves drawer to drawer, tossing files in the air.
Pages spiral down around us—turning the lab into a snow globe of someone else’s sins.
“He’s still screaming,” she says with a giggle, motioning toward the chamber behind us. “Should we feel bad?”
“Do you?” Neri grunts, using a steel bar to shatter a microscope that probably cost more than I make in a year.
Lily tilts her head.
“No. But I thought maybe I should ask.”
“You’re adorable,” Neri says.
Lily steps delicately through the wreckage, her boots trailing cracked glass like glitter.
I pull three metal jugs from beneath the central cabinet—thick accelerant. Enough to erase this place down to the screws.
“One for each of you,” I say, setting two down beside her.
Lily lights up like I’ve handed her a teddy bear and a flamethrower.
Neri pops the cap off and inhales.
“Mmm. Eau de rot-in-hell.”
“Hell did always smell better than home,” Lily chirps.
She says it like a joke .
Awkward as hell.
Shouldn’t be funny.
But I laugh anyway.
Because of course she’d say something like that?—
And of course, it’d hit just right.
A trail of liquid fire follows their every step.
I dump mine along the central wiring and mainframe control panel, then disable every fire protocol in the system.
No alarms.
No suppression.
Nothing to save this place.
Back at the exit, they’re arguing.
“Your throw was weak,” Neri says, pointing at a crumpled metal stool.
“It had form,” Lily replies. “It was interpretive.”
“You’re interpretive.”
Lily fake bows. “Thank you.”
Damn. I shake my head and smile.
It really didn’t take long for Neri to corrupt Lily.
I hand the zippo to Neri.
She flicks it once. Flame catches.
“Oh, Wraith,” she whispers, smile splitting wide. “You always know what to get me.”
Then she cackles.
“Say hello to my little friend.”
She flings it like a bride tossing a bouquet.
The flames erupt instantly.
Fire screams across the fuel lines, devouring everything in seconds.
A pop. Then a boom.
The floor shudders.
We don’t flinch.
We walk through the exit like gods leaving Olympus on fire.
Behind us?
Screams.
Glass bursting.
Legacy collapsing in real time.
Lily bumps her shoulder into mine.
I look down into her eyes.
Green.
Hazel.
“You realize you’re in for it now,” she says, voice soft and wrecked around the edges. “You’ve got both of us.”
She’s blood-streaked, glowing with soot and satisfaction.
“I hope you like chaos,” Neri quips. “I come with knives and mood swings.”
“And I come with tea and—” Lily adds brightly, pausing to think. “And emotional damage!”
I should laugh.
I don’t.
Instead, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
The sky’s pale above us—dust settling like snow in the cold.
Neri’s brow raises.
Lily tilts her head.
I look at her—at them—and say the words I never thought I’d be able to.
“It’s over.”
Neri smirks. “Fuck yeah it is.”
Lily’s smile flickers. Not fades. Just softens.
“Is it really?” she asks. Quiet. Unsure .
Like maybe, just maybe, something could still go wrong.
I take her chin in my hand.
Just enough pressure to keep her looking at me. To keep them looking.
“It’s over,” I say again. “He’s gone. His work is gone. His grip on you—gone.”
I stare into their eyes.
Hoping they can feel the intensity.
“And you’re mine.”
“Both of you.”
Neri scoffs. “Obviously.”
Lily sighs. Dreamy. Content. “We know.”
I don’t wait.
I crash my mouth against theirs.
It’s not gentle.
It’s not sweet.
It’s everything.
Possession.
Obsession.
Devotion poured into the shape of a kiss.
And when I pull back, their eyes are wide. Lips swollen.
And then they lift up and kiss me again.
Gentler this time.
A promise.
We stand there for a long moment after.
Breathing.
Shaking.
Alive.
We turn and walk in to the rising dawn.
Hand in hand.
The fire dims behind us.
I didn’t pull them into the dark.
I didn’t save them from the fire.
I found them in it—and chose to burn with them.
Not her hero.
Not her monster.
Just hers.
Theirs.