Page 27

Maxine

“Do you see him?” Leah’s shoulder pressed up against mine and she hunched forward to scan the scene.

“No,” I murmured. “But he’s down there somewhere.”

Leah and I were crouched behind a row of rusted barrels near the chain-link fence. Gray clouds skimmed low over the old airport hangar and tension churned in my stomach. Wind whispered across the cracked pavement, stirring loose debris that skittered against the corrugated walls.

The tarmac looked all but deserted—save for the sleek private jet, silver and glossy in the rain.

My lips still tingled where Leah had kissed me, her confession a constant echo in the back of my mind. I love you-I love you-I love you . The warmth of that moment lingered like a soft ache in my chest, but there was no time to revel in it just yet.

We had a fiancé to take down first. It was the only way we’d ever be free.

Leah inhaled sharply, her voice barely audible over the rustling wind. “This feels like a trap.”

“Because it is,” I murmured. My gaze flicked between the private jet and the vacant hangar. “Stay low. I’m going to take a closer look, see if I can find where he's keeping Addison.”

Leah’s brow furrowed but eventually she nodded, gripping my arm and squeezing briefly. “Be careful.”

I offered a slight, reassuring smile before slipping into the shadows. Rain pasted my hair flat as I crept along the fence line, keeping to the blind spots I’d observed from a distance.

Eventually the hangar loomed before me, a hulking skeleton of metal beams and corrugated walls that rattled in the gusty wind. With my heart in my throat, I slipped inside through a groaning side door, testing the air for Gregor’s scent.

My senses prickled and my nose wrinkled as I tasted the staleness of the air, the faint tang of old engine oil, and something else—chemical, almost sweet.

A cold knot tightened in my stomach as I pressed on, trying not to let my footsteps echo in the vast, vacant space. The ceiling soared overhead, rusted girders forming a lattice against the grey sky beyond grimy skylights.

I rounded a stack of abandoned crates, my pulse thudding in my ears and—stopped dead in my tracks.

There, in the back, I saw rows upon rows of perfectly dressed figures, all standing at rigid attention beneath the sparse light that filtered through the dusty windows. My breath caught in my throat. Wax minions.

For a split second fear paralyzed me, and I nearly let a scream slip past my lips. But the line of silent bodies remained inanimate—unnerving, vacant smiles stretched across lifeless faces.

They didn’t move. Didn’t register my presence. No breath or blinking eyes, just blank stares directed at nothing. After a beat, I forced myself to exhale. They were… puppets, empty vessels without Gregor around to direct them.

I knew that. Back when I had first been promised to Gregor, I had done some digging into his rare vampiric power, the so-called “puppet-master” ability that let him breathe false life into these sculptures. His own wax model army—he’d carved them all himself.

Without my fiancé’s influence they weren’t a threat. But Gregor was around here somewhere, waiting to snatch me up, and these dapper dolls were his trump card. He could unleash them at any moment.

Not if you torch them first.

My heart pounded, adrenaline spiking. A reckless, range-fueled idea began to take shape in my head.

Steeling myself, I slunk through the rows of statues, refusing to look too closely into any of those empty, smiling faces. The deeper I ventured, the more uneasy I felt, the back of my neck burning like countless blank eyes were tracking my every move.

I spotted a few fuel canisters stacked near what must have been a maintenance area. Perfect. I wedged one canister free, grimacing at the weight. My pulse throbbed in my temples as I carried it back through the wax forms.

Twisting off the cap, I started dousing the line of minions, flinching at the strong reek of jet fuel. I covered row after row, keeping my eyes low as I stood nose-to-nose with those eerie blank figures.

The next step, however, was harder. A surge of panic slashed through me. I had no lighter, no matches—and we were inside a hangar with minimal electricity. Maybe a stray spark? Short-circuit something ? —

Footsteps. My chest clenched.

“Hello, bride. Are you ready to come home?”

My heart lurched, dread rushing hot through my veins.

Gregor materialized from behind the crates, posture poised like a cat preparing to pounce. With his sleek black suit and his slicked back hair, he looked every bit the formidable villain. Even the stormy gloom couldn’t hide the ominous glint in his bloodshot eyes.

I forced myself to stand tall, clutching the fuel canister in my arms. “You just love theatrics, don’t you, Gregor,” I spat, letting a sneer slip into my tone. “Trying to show off?”

A thin smile curled his lips. “Some might call it showmanship. But you…” He reached out, caressing the air. “You need a lesson in submission, my dear.”

I recoiled, every cell screaming at me to tear him apart. Leah was outside, hidden—safe. My family was nowhere in sight this time. There were no bystanders, no distractions. Just Gregor and me.

And it was about time we ended things.

“You’re not taking me anywhere.” I squared my shoulders, pinning my focus on the monster in front of me. “And I’ll never be your bride.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that slithered under my skin. “Bravery doesn’t suit you. Though I confess, your defiance is–”

I didn’t let him finish.

In one swift motion, I hurled the fuel canister at his head. It shot through the air and caught him square in the face with a resounding crunch . Liquid splashed his immaculate suit, droplets flecking his oiled hair.

Gregor staggered, a grunt of surprise escaping him. Then his expression turned stormy, rage and wounded pride carving deep lines across his pale features.

I hardly had time to brace before he lunged at me, faster than I could track. His hands found my collar, wrenching me forward. I jerked away, but his grip on my jacket was ironclad.

“You insolent wretch,” he snarled, voice booming in the skeletal hangar. Fuel dripped from his hair, staining the glossy fabric of his suit. He jerked his head back, before hauling me forward, colliding our foreheads with a bone-rattling thud .

I hissed, ignoring the sting, and retaliated, driving an elbow into his stomach.

His rumbling growl told me I’d connected and I pressed the advantage, hammering at him with all the strikes I had honed in secret—years spent training for this inevitable confrontation, always hiding the full extent of my ability. Now it was time to show it.

With a vicious roar I swung again, swinging out my fist in a diagonal arc. He tried to dodge, but I’d learned from our last fight. My punch glanced off his jawline, sending his teeth snapping. Surprise flashed in his eyes—he hadn’t expected me to move so fast, to strike so hard. Good.

I followed up with a kick that rocked him backward, forcing him off balance. The euphoria of landing solid blows was electrifying.

Gregor let out a guttural roar, swinging his arm out in a wild slash. I ducked, weaving beneath the blow and slamming my shoulder into his battered ribs. He hissed at the impact, stumbling backward, and I landed another quick jab to his temple, snapping his head back.

But Gregor wasn’t finished yet. In a sudden burst of speed he blinked out of sight, reappearing to my left, and drove a powerful kick into my stomach.

Pain exploded through my body and the wind whooshed out of my lungs as my feet left the ground.

The next thing I knew, I was hurtling out of the hangar’s wide entrance, skin scraping raw as I skidded across the tarmac.

Rain pelted down from above and the world spun before my eyes, slanting out of view. The pavement scraped my elbows, my knees stinging as I slid, coming to a stop with a trembling gasp.

My head spun and my vision blurred. But I had to get up. I refused to let him see me broken. I forced myself onto all fours, wheezing and cursing while hot blood rushed in my ears.

Heavy footsteps approached and I looked up to see Gregor looming over me. He raised his arm, another clawed blow aimed at my head—one that could very well end me if it hit its mark.

My instincts roared and I coiled my body, diving to the side and springing up behind him.

With a feral shriek, I leapt at his back like a wild animal. My legs locked around his waist and I jackhammered an elbow to the side of his head, a blur of wet hair and furious motion.

Gregor groaned and dropped to his knees, one hand bracing on the tarmac. Air hissed between his teeth and I took the opening, landing on my feet and pummeling him with rapid punches, pouring every ounce of pent-up rage into each devastating blow.

Blood slapped the rain-slicked pavement and Gregor coughed, stunned by the relentless assault.

“Y-you–” he managed between thundering blows, blinking against the downpour. He looked almost… mortal for a moment, bleary and beaten under my clenched fists.

But then his lips curled into a sneer, exposing bloody, pointed fangs. I saw his eyes lose focus, and a pulse of unsettling energy coursed through the air, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

No. Turning my head, I realized too late—I hadn’t yet burned the minions, rows upon rows of those wax model creatures.

I sensed the sickly hum of supernatural energy crackling through the gloom, emanating from Gregor himself. One by one, the figures came to life, perfect, well-dressed wax forms milling at the entrance like marionettes at attention.

A chill stabbed my spine. Gregor’s trump card.

Mouth twisting in grim rage Gregor shoved me back, scrambling to his feet.

I watched in horror as the wax minions poured from the hangar doors, dozens of them, their glassy eyes vacant, dripping with fuel I hadn’t managed to ignite.

Rain cascaded over their polished suits and dresses, ties and bowler hats, feathers and scarves, their footsteps clacking on the tarmac.

I staggered back, chest heaving. I couldn’t fight them all. And Leah…

“Leah! Run ,” I shouted, frantically scanning the fence line. “Get out of here!”

I spun on my heel, racing to the rusted barrels where I had left her.

But Leah… wasn’t there.