Chapter Fourteen
Odette
does it really
matter at this point?
Fallon stood over the twitching body like a war goddess; her boot braced casually against his back as she lifted the giant ring of keys with a smirk that could cut steel.
“Time to go door-to-door,” she declared, voice sweet and venom-laced. Triumph burned behind her eyes, and I swore I saw the ghost of a flame flicker in her grin.
Beside me, Violet twirled her little knife between two fingers, calm as ever, like she hadn’t just turned a man’s eye into a weapon’s sheath. “I call dibs on the next idiot who gets within arm’s reach.”
“That's not the bet! No dibs!” I joke as I pat the guard down, finding a large knife in his boot and a gun on his hip. I pull both out.
I pushed to my feet, heart still pounding in my ears. My voice came out lighter than I felt, almost contemplative. “How mad do you think they’d be if we, I don’t know… turned this into a sort of murder-themed version of hide and seek?”
Fallon barked a laugh as she moved to Riven’s cell, testing keys like she was unlocking a treasure chest. “Depends. Are we playing to win?”
“Aren’t we always?” I said, just as the lock clicked and the door creaked open.
She handed the keys to Riven, giving her a wink. “Free the rest of the girls, would you? Or… you know, join the carnage. Dealer’s choice.”
Riven raised an eyebrow but was already sliding out of her cell, gaze sharp, jaw tight. Her voice held that low rasp of someone who’d been quiet too long and was now fully done playing nice. “Tempting. I really would love to see what chaos you three leave in your wake.”
I stepped forward, fingers still sticky with adrenaline, blood drying in tacky streaks down my arm. “You don’t have to come. But if you do, we’re not slowing down. You sure?” I hand her the gun from the guard. I’m a terrible shot. I have better chances with the knife.
She paused. Her eyes flicked toward the cages filled with dirty, bruised omegas, some dazed, some pissed, all of them scared.
She exhaled sharply through her nose and shook her head. “No. I’ll stay. These girls need someone steady to get them the hell out of here.”
Fallon clapped her on the shoulder with surprising gentleness. “That’s brave. But if you change your mind, just follow the trail of bodies.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Riven replied, already moving toward the next cage.
Violet’s voice drifted behind us as we turned toward the corridor beyond the cell room. “How mad do you think they’d be if we come back covered in blood and smiles?”
Fallon didn’t even pause. “Mad enough to bend us over the nearest flat surface.”
Violet grinned, making the most obscene gesture I’d ever seen. “Gods, I hope so.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled despite the tension wrapping itself tightly in my chest. Whatever hell waited for us beyond that door, it wouldn’t be enough to stop us.
They took the wrong omegas.
And we were just getting started.
The hallway reeked of blood, sweat, and fear. It clung to my skin like oil, thick and choking. My boots thudded quietly against the concrete as I moved forward, knife in hand, heart pounding a steady war drum against my ribs.
This wasn’t just an escape.
This was a reckoning.
A guard rounded the corner too fast, his eyes widening as he caught sight of us.
Before he could shout, I was on him. My blade slashed upward in a clean, vicious arc.
The edge bit into his thigh, and he stumbled, screaming.
I didn’t hesitate. I spun, planted my foot, and drove the knife into his gut. His breath caught with a wet wheeze.
Fallon slammed another guard into the wall nearby, yanking the knife she’d found earlier from his belt and jamming it beneath his ribs with a satisfied grunt. Blood sprayed the wall. She didn’t flinch.
Behind us, I heard a crack—Violet’s tiny knife met flesh a moment before she ripped a nightstick off another guard’s belt and brought it down on his skull. Once. Twice. He crumpled like wet paper.
“Jesus,” I muttered, panting, wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand. My arm was shaking, but my grip on the knife stayed firm. “Blunt force trauma apparently is your kink.”
She blows me a kiss.
Fallon kicked a door open, peering into another corridor. “They’re sending more.”
Good. Let them.
I stepped up beside her, my voice steady despite the storm rising in my chest. “Then let’s give them something to remember.” I’m hoping like hell the pack that got me is in this building somewhere. I still don’t even know their names.
Another guard tried to rush us. I ducked low, slashing across his hamstring. He howled, falling forward, and Fallon ended him with a quick thrust to the neck.
Everything slowed. Then sped up again.
We were a blur of violence, of blood and blades and righteous fury. For every guard that came at us, another body dropped. Our bodies moved in a rhythm that made no sense and all the sense in the world. Best friends born of fire, broken pieces reforged into weapons. This wasn’t panic anymore.
This was power.
And I wasn’t the same girl who’d been dragged into a basement. Not anymore.
We cleared the last of the corridor. My chest heaved as I leaned against the wall, knife still slick in my hand. My arms ached. My knuckles were scraped raw. But gods, I’d never felt more alive.
Fallon glanced down at one of the bodies, then up at me. “How many’s that for you?”
“Four,” I said, grinning darkly.
“Damn. I’m at five.”
Violet twirled the nightstick. “Six and a half. One of mine only got knocked out.”
“You counted a half?” I asked, incredulous.
She just shrugged, lips twitching. “He might get up later. Let’s keep moving before he does.”
There was shouting up ahead, more guards, or maybe one of ours.
I raised my knife and met Fallon’s eyes.
“We finish this,” I said.
She grinned.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, stepping over a corpse. “We haven’t even started.”
The hallway stank of blood and sweat, the kind of scent that lingered in the back of your throat and burned.
My hand tightened around the hilt of my knife, slick with gore, my breathing shallow as we rounded the next corner.
We moved fast and silently, the three of us gliding over the bodies we’d left behind.
The guards hadn’t stood a chance. Violet’s nightstick cracked skulls with brutal efficiency, Fallon’s stolen blade moved like it was part of her damn arm, and I, well, my knife had found every soft spot it needed to.
We paused at a crossroads in the corridor, the low ceiling pressing down like the air itself was holding its breath.
I could still feel the vibration from our last kill in my forearm.
That guard hadn’t seen me coming. I’d buried the blade in his ribs and twisted, something in me had cracked wide open with that motion.
Not in a bad way. In the kind of way that says: I’m not a victim anymore.
“We go left,” Fallon whispered, yanking her knife free of her latest casualty.
“No,” Violet said, crouching beside the dead guard and wiping her blade off on his pants. “Right. That way leads toward the control room. I saw the map back in the hall.”
I nodded, adrenaline thrumming under my skin. “Control room sounds fun.”
But just as we started forward, we heard it—faint voices, distant but echoing off the concrete walls.
“Where the fuck are they?” a familiar voice barked. Fox.
“Oh gods,” Fallon muttered, eyes gleaming. “They found the bodies.”
Another voice cut through, dry and unimpressed. Jace, by the tone. “I lost count after nine. You think we should be worried?”
“Are you kidding?” Micha growled, his voice sharp and furious. “What the fuck are they doing?”
I choked on a laugh and pressed my hand to my mouth, ducking into a side alcove. Fallon followed, giggling under her breath, and Violet dragged a half-broken crate in front of us to shield the view.
“Shh,” I whispered, eyes watering with suppressed laughter. “Don’t ruin it. They’ll find us too soon.”
Fallon leaned over my shoulder, whispering, “This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”
We were all grinning, breathless, blood-streaked, and high on vengeance when I turned my head and froze.
Voss stood at the end of the corridor. Silent. Watching.
He looked like a god of war in a black tactical shirt rolled to the elbows, blood drying on his forearms. The moment he met Fallon’s gaze, the tension snapped. He strode forward, grabbed her by the front of her shirt, and kissed her like he meant to imprint her into time.
When he pulled back, he kept her pressed close, murmuring low enough I barely caught it, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Winning,” Fallon whispered smugly, her breathless smile framed in blood and lipstick.
I poked my head out and smirked. “We’re playing hide and murder. She’s ahead by two.”
Voss blinked once, then huffed something like a laugh and shook his head. “You’re all insane.”
Violet beamed at him from behind the crate. “A little. Still love us?”
He glanced down the hall as Micha’s voice thundered closer, and then looked back at us. “You’ve got five minutes before they catch up. Make it count.” His grin twisted into something wicked. “Fallon better win.”
Then, like a shadow, he was gone.
The three of us turned to each other, faces lit up with manic glee.
“Five minutes,” Fallon repeated.
I readjusted the grip on my knife, heart racing.
“Let’s make them count.”
Haze
October 28th
2:54 A.M
“Well, well,” I drawled, crouching in front of the one with the shattered leg—what was left of it, anyway. His breath hitched as I leaned closer, watching him try to scoot away like a squashed cockroach. “Don’t tap out now, we’re just getting to the fun part.”
Behind me, the other two were groaning, one gurgling like a clogged drain, the other whimpering through a split lip and a shattered jaw. Pathetic.