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MIA

“I’m getting Eli.” Yulian sounds mad, mad, mad, angrier than I’ve ever heard him. “Then you’re going to get in my car, and we’re going to talk at your apartment. You’re free to do whatever you want after that.”

He turns. No, no, no—don’t turn. Don’t go into that room.

My eyes flick, terrified, past the glass and the shadows. I can see him in the dark, because I know where Brad is: by the bed, in a crouch, right next to Eli.

And he’s pointing a gun at his head.

Make him go away. That’s what he ordered me. Brad knew Yulian would be mad tonight; knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in a race to the quickest draw. Make him leave, or I blow your boy’s brains out.

But Yulian is almost there now. He’s about to see .

Brad glares at me from the dark, half his face illuminated by a single ray of moonlight. I can feel his cold gaze on me, can feel the pressure of the trigger next to Eli’s head like it’s my own.

I have to save him.

“I’m pregnant.”

Yulian turns back to me. “What?”

My lie burns on my tongue. It’s the only thing I could think to say. The only way I could stop him.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “With Brad’s child.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. I can prove it.”

I can’t, actually. But I have Reese and access to the maternity ward—stealing ultrasound pictures won’t be too hard. He’ll do it for me. He’s my friend.

He’ll do whatever I ask to save Eli.

Yulian would, too. It’s a sinking thought, one I can’t let myself trust. Because what if Brad’s words are true?

What if it was really all a lie?

Why would Brad be hiding from his business partner? My brain keeps nagging, throwing proof in my face that he was lying, too. But I can’t risk it. Yulian is mercurial, possessive—the kind of man who’s prone to changing his mind on a whim.

If that’s what Brad is afraid of, he’s right to be.

So I sell the lie. I tell Yulian every ugly thing he needs to hear to believe me—to want to believe me.

“We’ve been meeting in secret.”

“Your family’s dead.”

“We are not yours.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Yulian, the Ice King—fucked over by the only vulnerability he ever dared to share.

And then he leaves.

I want to go after him, but I don’t.

I want to run, but my feet stay rooted to the spot.

Because, one room over, Eli’s still got a gun to his head.

“Good job,” Brad whispers, now close to me again. The tip of his gun slides across my cheek, trailing along my tears, and it feels good to have it there. Because at least that means it’s not on Eli. “Always knew you could do it, sweet thing.”

I want to throw up, but I resist.

Brad opens his mouth. I can feel his lips on my neck, then his teeth. Only, they’re not human teeth—they’re monstrous.

He unhinges his jaw.

He swallows me down.

And I scream, scream, scream into the void inside him as he devours me, scream because I know what’s next, and with the last of my breath, I beg him…

Please, don’t take my son, too.