Page 41 of A Malicious Menagerie (Fangs & Fables #1)

The King

W ho better to know what to do when shit hits the fan than a soldier?

Despite Chase’s protests, I leave him with Smarman’s body behind the wolf enclosure. No one has cell phones, and I can’t go wandering up to the front of the menagerie in a blood-stained dress. Still, I know another way to get hold of a certain redheaded security guard.

I travel off the main path as much as possible, avoiding the sporadic gala-goer who’s lagging behind in the exhibits instead of enjoying champagne by the carousel.

It feels like it takes an eternity to reach the warren of back hallways when, in reality, it’s probably less than ten minutes.

I keep an eye out for John or any of the security guys as I approach the breakroom, but thankfully, everyone must be busy holding down the fort and guiding the gala-goers out.

I find the walkie-talkies on the counter and tune one to the channel I know the security team uses.

I pause, organizing the chaotic whirl of my thoughts, before holding down the side button.

“Colby? This is Anna. A guest drank too much in the woods, and I could use some help with him. He said his name was Chase?” I can only hope that using the werewolf’s name tips him off that there’s something a bit more personal going on than a tipsy reveler.

Belatedly, I remember to tack on, “Err, over?”

“Anna, this is Bob,” comes the voice of the wrong security guard. “Colby’s at the front. I can head that way. Over.”

While I frantically scramble for a reason that I need Colby instead of Bob, Colby replies, “I got it, Bob. I already asked Mick to cover the front. Over.”

“Ten-four,” Bob acknowledges, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

By the time I make my way back to the wolf enclosure, Colby is already there and apparently in a staring contest with Chase. The way the two men are facing each other down and puffing up their chests would be almost comical if not for the fact that there’s a dead body slumped between them.

“Alright, boys, no time for that,” I snip at them, planting my hands on my hips.

“What the fuck, Anna?” Colby growls, running an agitated hand through his hair until it stands on end. “When you called for help, I didn’t exactly think I’d be helping you hide a body!”

“He had it coming,” Chase growls, earning a dark look from Colby.

“What’d he do? Proposition your girl?”

“A little more than ‘proposition,’” I hedge, not really wanting to relive it.

Colby shoots me a startled look, his sharp eyes tracking from my mussed hair to the sore spot on my cheek that’s probably red and trending toward bruised. His eyes soften, but his voice is gruff when he states, “This is going to complicate our escape plan.”

“No shit,” I deadpan. “What do we do? Can we hide the body?”

“It’s a little late for that.”

I jump at the unexpected voice and spin around to see a familiar figure hovering in the shadows. “John!” I squeak before glancing involuntarily toward the body at my feet. I force my eyes back to my smirking coworker. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Don’t bother, Anna,” Chase growls, advancing on John. “I’ve been looking forward to taking this asshole out for a long time.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” John says mildly, and Chase freezes in place, his gaze snapping to a spot over John’s shoulder. I don’t understand why he stopped until a moment later when several guards materialize out of the darkness, their guns raised.

Chase tenses, his skin rippling as if he might shift and lunge at the men, firearms be damned.

He halts abruptly when he glances my way, and his eyes widen in horror a moment before I feel something cool and unyielding press to my temple.

“Try it and she’s dead,” a cold voice intones, and I realize with a jolt that there’s a gun pointed at my head.

There’s a high-pitched buzzing in my brain that grows louder with each one of my panicked breaths.

I dare not move my head even an inch, but my gaze ping-pongs from John’s smug expression to Chase’s bared fangs and clenched fists to Colby’s scowl.

The world seems to hold its breath for a heartbeat and a century at once before Colby reluctantly raises his arms above his head in surrender.

“What are you doing?” Chase hisses, whirling toward him.

“Do you want them to shoot her?” Colby snaps. “Put your damn hands up.”

Chase’s sharp, metallic gaze flicks back to me. A muscle in his jaw tics once before he mimics Colby, his big frame so tense he’s vibrating like a plucked guitar string.

I feel like my vision is tunneling down, and it’s hard to hear past my own rasping breaths. Each one feels painful as it expands my tight chest, but I welcome the sensation because it means I’m still alive. For now.

As if from far away, I hear John bragging.

“I heard a scream and came to investigate. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to one of Mr. Mathis’s precious guests.

Imagine my surprise when I found Anna and the werewolf cozying up over a dead body.

Of course, I reported the murder right away, and what did we find when we came to apprehend the murderers?

An accomplice and an escape plot.” John grins, and it’s somehow not surprising that the happiest I’ve ever seen the man is while he’s selling us out.

“You are a miserable, cocksucking son of a bitch, John,” Colby snarls.

John only shrugs, no less pleased with himself. “Sticks and stones, my friend. But I’m not the one about to be stoned. Or whatever Mathis has in store for you.”

“Enough chitchat,” the man holding the gun to my head grumbles. His voice is familiar. Is that Bob? The same Bob who offered to come help me in place of Colby not long ago? “Let’s go. The boss is waiting.”

Bob marches me down the path with a grip at the back of my neck and the gun still grazing my temple.

My shoes get left behind, and I wince at the feeling of gravel gritting into my feet.

Some small spark of logic demands that I make a plan, that I do something other than meekly go to meet my end, but the rest of my brain is just white noise.

The iron bars of Delia’s cage soon appear in the gloam, and I flick my eyes that way to see that she’s watching, mouth agape and scarlet eyes wide.

I can’t manage much more than a grimace as we leave her behind in her prison.

I promised her I’d save her, but I guess that plan is just as dead as we’re about to be.

Soon, the dense woods give way to painstakingly curated gardens with the carousel at the epicenter.

Normally, I find the carousel elegant and beautiful, if a little haunting.

Now, it looms over us like a demented carnival attraction, and I’ve never been so aware of every set of fangs leering down at me from the frozen mounts.

And atop the carousel platform, scowling down at us like a king upon his dais, is Mars Mathis.

He stands beside the red dragon with his hand resting on its neck, and I feel a dizzying rush of déjà vu back to my first night at the menagerie when we met just like this.

Would I have walked away that night if I knew how everything would play out?

Maybe the more important question is, would Mathis have let me walk away? Or was I slated for death the moment I took my first step into the secret garden?

On the brick path below Mathis is Nathan in his customary place as Mathis’s right hand.

I scrutinize him, looking for any sign of my ally, but his expression is blank.

Back to his carefully coded programming, and my heart sinks into my belly.

Was any of what he told me real? Is FABLE?

Or was it all a lie to gather information for his real boss?

The guards halt us at Mathis’s feet, and I’m half surprised that they don’t force us to kneel to royalty.

Two additional security guards flank the carousel, guns drawn but held down.

For now. There’s a long, tense moment of silence in which I fight the urge to squirm and fidget. Seems unwise with a gun to my head .

Finally, Mathis gusts out a sigh. “I’m disappointed in you all.”

From beside me, Chase snorts. “Sorry, Dad.”

I have to stifle the urge to elbow him in the gut and tell him to shut up .

Meanwhile, Mathis scowls down at him. “So irreverent,” he murmurs.

“Are you really going to speak to me like that with your life on the line?” He flicks his obsidian gaze to me, and I suppress a shiver. “With your lover’s life on the line?”

Tension radiates off of Chase. “Does it matter? You’ve already decided what you’re going to do with us.”

At that, Mathis quirks a wry smile. “Don’t be so sure of that. So many options. Which is best for the traitors who killed a dear friend and plotted to rob me of my treasures? Anna.” I stiffen at the sound of my name spat with so much venom. “You remember the story of the Grootslang.”

“Yes,” I agree faintly, and I know immediately what he’s about to do next. I don’t know whether to be relieved or distraught, so I feel both at once.

“Take my werewolf back to his enclosure,” Mathis commands the guards.

A jolt goes through Chase, and he snarls. I can tell he wants to shift, to fight, but he’s holding back for me. “I won’t leave her,” Chase growls, his panicked gaze flying to me.

“You will if you don’t want to watch a bullet rip through her skull,” Mathis replies mildly. I take a deep breath against a wave of dizziness. “Or if you don’t want to be dragged back there unconscious.” At this, Mathis takes the remote to Chase’s shock collar from his pocket and thumbs the button.

“Chase, go,” I rasp, my voice broken from nerves.

Chase firms his jaw, ready to double down. Ready to actually force Mathis to shock him into submission. “Anna—”

“I’m asking you to go,” I say desperately. “I need to know you’re safe.”

I love you. The words are burning my tongue, demanding to be let out. But even though this might be the only chance I get to say them, I won’t give Mathis or any of his cronies the satisfaction.

Chase clenches his jaw so tightly I imagine I can hear his teeth grinding. “Because you asked, Anna,” he says at last, tossing a rebellious glare at Mathis .

Mathis waves a hand, and two of the guards break off, their guns aimed at Chase’s back and prodding him to get a move on. He casts one last anguished glance back my way before letting the guards herd him toward the woods.

Then, it’s just me and Colby. The ex-soldier looks like a loaded spring ready to fly, but with a gun buried in his kidney and two more guards eyeing him warily, he’d have a hard time fighting his way out.

“Now, what to do with you two,” Mathis muses, clasping his hands behind his back and strolling along the edge of the carousel as if he’s the picture of ease.

But with this man, he’s proven time and again that still waters run deep.

“I’d feed you to the vampire, but I’ve noticed lately that she hasn’t been so…

hungry.” He raises a silver eyebrow at us. “Can I assume that’s your doing?”

Figuring I’ve not got much left to lose, I reply, “If you’re asking if I’ve been feeding her, the answer is yes. She’s a person , and you’ve been treating her worse than a dog.”

“I feed her plenty,” Mathis disagrees with a vicious grin. “And straight from the source, too. How many dogs are fed such fresh fare?”

I’m debating if it would be worth getting shot just for the chance of punching him in his smug face.

My eyes find Nathan again, and now, he’s staring at me intently. Trying to communicate telepathically? Maybe that’s in his skill set, but it certainly isn’t in mine. Is it wishful thinking to believe he’s trying to tell me that he’s still on our side?

“So, the vampire is out,” Mathis continues, still musing over how best to murder us. “I could feed you to the sea serpent or the kraken, of course, but that would be so… quick.” I shudder at that word said with such distaste.

Suddenly, Mathis’s eyes light up. It’s the same ecstatic look that made me think he really was just an enthusiastic old man the night we met. Now, I know better. Only power and fearmongering make him that happy. “I think I have the perfect place for you two after all.”