Anxiousness is curdling in my stomach like spoiled milk. Addie and Daya still haven’t stumbled their way to the back of the hallway yet. And this little girl must think I’m like Mark and here to hurt them and well… she’s not entirely wrong. Except I’m only interested in hurting one of them, and by the time I’m done, she’ll love the way I make her scream.

She snaps, “Don’t call me that. You’re the one preying on women.”

I arch a brow, on the verge of laughing in her face. “That just makes me disturbed. Not crazy.”

Her tiny hands ball into tight fists, and a snarl pulls her face taut with anger.

The doll lifts her nightgown far enough to bring out the knife and kicks the door shut behind her.

I can’t tell if I should laugh or rage. She’s deliberately keeping me from my little mouse, and that makes me very fucking unhappy.

“What are you going to do with that, dolly?” I ask, a mocking smirk on my face. This should be over quickly.

“I’m going to kill you, monster.”

I don’t have time for this shit.

The longer I’m trapped in a room with Chucky’s Bride, the more opportunity handed over to Mark. If the men notice I’m nowhere to be found, and Addie is left vulnerable, nothing will stop them from seizing the moment.

She’s more interested in talking, and time is ticking. I charge at her, but I’m surprised by how much fight she has in her.

I humor her, the sloppy attacks beginning with a knife and ending with her fists. The entire time, she rages like a petulant child. Throwing a fit because she can’t land a strike.

I see the desperation leaking into her expression, just as antsy to take me down as I am her.

Finally, I land one good sucker punch to her nose, causing her to lose her footing and go crashing to the ground.

She screeches out some idle threat, but my focus is on the door. I storm past her, whipping out the door and charging down the hall.

“Jackal!” she screeches from behind me, but I pay her no mind. I don’t know who the hell she’s talking to, but I don’t give a fuck.

I stop short when I look to my left and see the four men of the night packed into a room.

I breathe out a sigh of relief, a small weight lifting off my shoulders with the confirmation that they didn’t get the chance to trap Addie.

Until I hear the words that come out of their fucking mouths.

“Where did she go?” Miller asks, staring at Mark. “The van is already set to go. They just need to know their location.”

I snap straight, and my body stiffens like cement being injected into my spinal cord.

“We’ll find them,” Mark placates. “Zack wasn’t with them, so he must’ve lost them in the chaos. It’s the perfect time.”

“You do realize you’re going to have to handle him, right? When he finds out Addie is gone?” Robert cuts in. “With those nasty scars on his face, I have a feeling you’re underestimating him.”

Mark waves a hand, dismissing Robert’s concerns. His very fucking valid concerns.

“He got those scars because he was weak, Robert.”

I laugh silently, my head thrown back and shoulders shaking as I let his very ill-minded assumption wash through me. And then my laugh bleeds out, rocketing through the small space and blending with the other creepy noises pinging around this house.

The four men’s heads snap towards me, and bleed dry of whatever color was left in their faces. The four of them are sweaty and look like they have watched their worst nightmares come to life. They’ll soon realize that I sit on the fucking throne, and their nightmares bow to me. I’m far worse than any monster they could ever imagine.

I walk into the room, the grin on my face widening when they flinch away.

“Za—” Mark starts.

“You know how old these scars are, Mark? Very old. My opponent was a formidable one, but do you want to know who ended up on the floor with their throat slashed and holes where their eyeballs used to be? Certainly wasn’t me, fucker.”

Mark tries to brush off my story with a laugh, the sound choked and broken. “Zack, please, we weren’t speaking of your girlfriend.”

“Mark, the last thing you want to do is lie to me.”

Just as Mark opens his mouth, a little door in the room springs open and out crawls the biggest fucking nuisance of the night.

“For the love of God, please leave me alone,” I snap. Mark and his friends turn to find the doll straightening, a determined gleam in her eye.

Her face brightens. “God has nothing to do with this, silly.”

Chapter 29

The Manipulator

“I

think if I don’t go sit the fuck down, I’m going to collapse. You’ll have to peel me out of this mud.”

I point towards a bench. “Go ahead and relax. I’m going to go through the House of Mirrors real quick.”

“Fine by me, it’ll take you forever to get out of that thing, and it’ll be time to go.”

The House of Mirrors has always been one of my favorite places. It’s an elaborate maze of mirrors, and very difficult to find your way out of. It’s one of the biggest buildings at the fair, and they fill every inch of it with mirrors.

The fair will close in about a half-hour. It’s pushing it, but it should be just enough time to get through it if I concentrate.

The house is painted all black—no array of colors, flashing of lights, or smoke. I’ve always thought it was trippier like this. Sometimes it feels like being in a silent room, left with nothing but your thoughts as your own image haunts you.

It takes all of five minutes before I’m thoroughly lost. I keep my hands held out before me, preventing me from running face first into one of the mirrors.

I did that a couple of years ago and my nose was bruised for a week.

A few minutes pass by with nothing but the company of my own reflection. My heart rate is pumping erratically, my breathing uneven with excitement. Despite the pounding in my chest, this is where I feel most… normal.

Off in the distance, I hear a faint shuffling of feet. Not very many people come in here, especially this late, but there’s plenty of people who like to take on the challenge.

Continuing on my wayward path, I concentrate on where I’m going, soon forgetting about anything else going on around me. The trick is to focus on the floor and not your reflection.

Just as I almost face plant a mirror, I hear a dark chuckle. My head snaps up, the tone of the laugh sounding evil. A spark of adrenaline ignites, pumping the chemical into my heart and kicking up the speed further.

Did an employee dressed as a monster sneak in here to mess with me? I wouldn’t hold it past them. They’re known to follow people around and terrorize them.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turn to find my bearings. If there is a creepy monster in here with me, I’d rather they not get close enough that I have to look at a thousand of their reflections.

Finding my way past the mirror that almost gave me a nose job, I start ahead again.

“Little mouse.” The whisper seems to travel from every direction.

My limbs lock, not sure if my imagination is playing tricks on me or if Zade is actually here.

Unfreezing, I force myself to keep moving, hoping I’m just imagining things.

“Where are you, little mouse?”

I gasp, the deep voice closer. Another sinister chuckle echoes, and Jesus Christ, this man is capable of evil. No one sane sounds like that.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take three deep, calming breaths, trying to ease my racing heart.

He’s fucking with me. Trying to scare me. And it’s fucking working when I’m trapped in a maze of mirrors, and he’s laughing like a goddamn lunatic.

He can’t just let me have my night, can he? For once, I didn’t think about him and my conflicting feelings. And though Zade doesn’t quite scare me as much—except for maybe right now—the feelings he brings out of me certainly do.