Chapter Twenty-Nine
That disgusting hand was clamped over my mouth, smelling like sweat and stale cigarettes.
Don’t fight him? Like hell. But he wasn’t my only concern.
My stomach roiled from the stink and sheer fury.
I’d walked right into a trap. Worse than that, so did Brad and everyone from Sawtooth Security.
This had to be the mastermind behind the hackers and the deep fakes.
No one else could pull this off. This fucker could be holding Jen hostage somewhere.
Hurting her. That realization made my temperature spike so hot, so fast, I thought I might ignite before I shifted.
As a bear shifter, I was stronger than most humans. But this guy was holding his own. He didn’t smell like a shifter. The more I struggled, the tighter his grip became.
Screaming wouldn’t work—the club was loud and it would get lost in the chaos. The dude was fucking up my makeup, threatening my life, and moon knows what else he’d try.
When I managed to get one of those clammy, stinky fingers between my teeth, I bit that fucker as hard as I could.
“Ow! You bitch!”
Mission accomplished, because the surprise gave me enough room to break free.
I had no idea who he was, if he’d even be brave enough to show his face. When I turned, I found an older man. Not elderly—maybe my dad’s age. He was tall and stocky but also had deep wrinkles around his eyes. He wore a brown barn coat with a corduroy collar and a white T-shirt.
“Who the fuck are you?” I spat.
“You ungrateful piece of trash!” He raised his hand to hit me, but I was faster than him, and blocked him mid-strike. His face reddened, and his nostrils flared. “You want to be famous? I’m gonna make you a household name. Too bad you won’t be around to enjoy it.”
His confident smirk had me seething. He hadn’t exactly introduced himself as the Centerfold Slasher. Not that it mattered who he was—he'd made his intentions painfully clear.
“What did I do to you?” My heart thundered in my chest, and if I was about to go down, I was getting answers. “What did Velvet do to you?”
His demeanor softened, like he was about to explain something to me I couldn’t possibly understand. “When you flaunt yourself, your body, like you do, you can’t control how people react to seeing you.”
My stomach sank. No matter who he was, he had a plan, and it wasn’t good.
He stepped closer. “We have something in common, Synamon. We both like control, and we both want to be known for something.”
“We have nothing in common,” I assured him.
He reached for me, but again, I was quicker. I wanted nothing more than to run, to shift—but I wanted answers.
“Oh we do.” His grin was sickening. “Does that scare you?”
“Then why did you disguise yourself last time?”
He furrowed his brow. “Not sure what you’re talking about. Like you, I want my audience to see all I have to offer.”
I chuckled nervously. “It’s okay to admit I got away from you.”
“If there was a last time, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Guess you’re not very good at being a serial killer.” What was I doing? Even if he wasn’t the Centerfold Slasher, he was a certified lunatic, and I was literally laughing in the face of death.
“You fucking bitch!” He lunged at me and grabbed my arm.
I pulled away, but not before the sickening crack that I prayed wasn’t a bone. But the pain said otherwise.
A broken bone will heal. A dead body won’t, my bear reminded me.
The pain slowed me down, made it hard to think, but I was a few steps ahead of him.
Shift, my bear urged.
Not yet...even though it would be easy—and satisfying to maul this bastard. But shifting was hiding. And I was done with that. I couldn’t default to bear because he underestimated Synamon Honey. I was tired of shrinking and getting less than I deserved. I’d already sworn I’d never do it again.
And ripping him to shreds was making things easy on him. He needed to pay for what he’d done.
My entire body pulsed with pain, the edges of my vision darkened, and I stumbled forward. The Centerfold Slasher wasn’t stupid—and he took advantage of the opportunity, knocking me to the ground.
I landed on the broken arm awkwardly, but I couldn’t let it take my fight away. The slasher pressed his body hard, pinning me to the ground, and his breath was hot against my ear.
“Oh, that’s good, Synamon,” he practically purred. “Better than your little videos.”
I growled.
“That's nice. Too bad we can’t record this. I bet I’m not your only fan who’d get off watching this.” His hand wrapped around my throat. “Get up. I'm bringing you to the stage so your fans can see the real show.”
There was no stopping my shift now. My body heat rocketed, the corset split, and all my bones cracked and expanded as fur ripped through my skin.
I managed to throw him off me and make a run for it. I hadn’t gained my bearings in my animal form yet, and I was completely disoriented. But my shift had stunned him, and I took advantage.
Retracing my steps, I went back to my dressing room. The Werewives confessional room and Sawtooth Security’s command central were all clustered there.
They were empty. Chairs had been knocked over, the camera was gone, and my wardrobe rack had been knocked onto its side.
Sweet moon, what happened here?
I didn’t have time to ponder. There was a serial killer hot on my trail and everyone tasked with protecting me had disappeared. So I lumbered toward the stage. Not the entrance I’d planned to make.
The club was eerily quiet. Bottles and debris littered the floor. I wished I could ask what was happening, but I had no idea who was a shifter.
More importantly, who I could trust.
Going back to my dressing room was a risk. If the Slasher had a chance to corner me there, I’d have no way to escape. But being a bear hindered me, and I had to will myself to shift back to human.
My body shook, not ready for another shift so soon after my last. I groaned as I picked up the rack.
My arm was still sore but the bone was no longer broken.
The garments were mostly Synamon Honey stage wear.
I hadn’t planned to cosplay Ellie ever again, but she was getting her moment in the spotlight.
There was a pair of sweats—perfect. I pulled my hair back, and made sure there were no traces of makeup left on my face before heading out.
The Stepchild staff worked on cleaning things up.
“Hi,” I said tentatively, waiting for someone to acknowledge me. “Can you tell me what happened here?”
He looked at me like I had three heads. “Show got cancelled when Synamon Honey went missing. Crowd freaked out. They headed out to the parking lot. Not sure what happened out there, but some people are calling it a riot.”
“Wow, that’s crazy.” I smiled at him, but I spotted the Centerfold Slasher on the other side of the stage. I had to pray that he had told the truth when he said he wasn’t the bear headed creep who’d broken into my apartment, and he’d have no idea that he’d just tried to strangle me moments before.
“Thank you,” I added quickly. I needed to find Brad, or someone from Sawtooth Security. There was no telling what I’d find outside, but I couldn’t stay here.
The Slasher might be human, but he’d been close enough to me to pick up on my scent. It was only a matter of time before he realized I was Synamon.
An angry crowd had bottlenecked near the entrance. Excuse me would only get me so far.
“Synamon wouldn’t do this to us,” the person next to me said to his friend. “That last live she did, the one where she took off her makeup, she said someone tried to kidnap her from her apartment. Maybe that happened.”
My first instinct was to tell him he was one hundred percent right.
Don’t, my bear warned. There’s no telling how they’ll react right now.
She was right, so even though I hated it, I turned my head and pushed my hair forward.
“She could’ve made the whole thing up so she could do this. I’m sure she’ll do a video and come up with some 80’s references and another scheme to steal our money. Not that I’ll know, because I’m cancelling my membership the minute I get home,” his friend said.
He wouldn’t be the only one who thought that.
“Yeah, right,” the first friend laughed. “Don’t see you dying on that hill. And what if something really happened? Synamon might need our help.”
It took everything I had not to reassure him that I had an entire company of burly bears on the case.
At least, I hoped that was still true since all the people and shifters I’d considered my allies had disappeared.
Your mate would never abandon you, my bear insisted.
Before I gave into temptation, I got separated from those fans, and got pushed through the door where the rest of the crowd had congregated outside the club.
“Syn-a-mon! Syn-a-mon!” they chanted.
I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing as I pushed through the crowd. The air stunk of sweat and beer, but then I picked up on something deep, clean, and familiar.
Brad’s scent.
A wave of relief flowed through my veins. He was here—no telling what state I’d find him in.
The further I got, the more the demeanor of the crowd changed. They were no longer chanting my name. In the cacophony of voices, I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The people in front of me tripped on something, and then another person kicked the object away. I braced myself so I didn’t get hit by the bear head that rolled my way.
That thing was just like the one the person wore when they broke into my apartment.
That meant the Slasher hadn’t been lying when he said he hadn’t been the one to break in. Or maybe he’d dropped it out here before he went inside—or even worse, there really was someone else trying to hurt me.
I picked it up, carrying it like it was some sort of forcefield against another attack. I needed to find Brad.
There was a jam, but I pushed through—that earthy scent that I’d come to crave was getting stronger. I wanted to call out for Brad, but nothing felt safe right now.