Page 69 of Monstrous Urges

My mouth curves darkly at the corners as I shrug off my jacket and slowly roll up my sleeves to the elbow.

I keep clicking on different cameras. None of them show her in the house.

My smile turns…hungry.

I would appear she took the bait.

Slowly, I open my desk drawer and pull out the matte black devil mask.

Time to run, my little slut.

15

TAYLOR

The minute the sun dips low over the ocean and changes from orange to purple, I start to get ready. I’ve been back in “my” room—that is, the room I woke up in—since my heart-stopping faceoff with Drazen on the balcony.

I swallow back the terror as I remember dangling over the edge with only his hand around my throat stopping me from falling to my death.

Now, as it gets dark, I know what I have to do.

I’m on an island, with the only means of egress to the mainland a gated, guarded bridge. There’s no “waiting until help arrives”. He’s told my friends and coworkers—as me—that I’m “on vacation”.

Sure, maybe eventually someone will wonder where the fuck I am. But even so, wherever I am, I doubt it’s anywhere near New York. In fact, I’m starting to think—between the decor, the turquoise ocean, and the style of the mansion—that I’m much further away from home than I’d care to admit.

Regardless, the first step is getting the hell off this psycho’s island. Which means as night falls, I’m getting ready to swim.

I try to remember the spot on the shore where I saw the little rowboat tied to the mooring buoy. I’m more of a runner and a lifter, but I’m still a decent swimmer, and I don’t think the rowboat was that far away from shore.

If I can get to it, I can row away from the island and to the shore of the mainland. From there, I’m sure I can find local authorities and get word to Gabriel and Alistair, not to mention the US consulate if I am outside the States, and I can leave this nightmare behind.

I watch the sun set lower and lower over the ocean. The shadows creep longer and darker as the sky slowly turns violet, then indigo, then a dark, dark blue before fading to night.

Go time.

All I have for clothing is my torn dress. No shoes. But at least it’s black, I suppose. I creep out of my room and dart down a hall. The house is still a bit of a mystery to me, and I’m not quite sure of its layout. But I quickly make my way to where I think I remember the side door was.

That idea becomes a hard no the second I hear guards talking just outside. So I creep back down another hallway until I find another courtyard. This one has a wall of big open archways to one side, overlooking a manicured flower garden.

That’ll work.

I slip over the stone of the arched windows and crouch low in the gardens. I bolt across a dark expanse of lawn, thankful that the moon is barely a sliver tonight.

There’s a chill in the air as I half power-walk, half jog in what I’m pretty sure is the direction of the boat. Goosebumps tease up my arms and legs. A ripple of something ghostly shivers down my spine, the only sounds the subtle lapping of the waves down on the rocks and the soft hoot of a nightbird or an owl.

I keep going, starting to wonder if I’m even remotely heading the right way. But then suddenly, as I jog around a thicket of small trees, my face lights up.

Found it.

Fear suddenly knots in my stomach as I hang back a second, biting my lip as I eye the dark rolling waves between me and the rowboat.

I have no idea how fast the current is. Or, fuck, if there’s sharks or something. I shiver again as the claws of fear rake down my spine.

I take a deep breath and start to tiptoe my way closer to the edge, trying to find a way down the rocky embankment.

That’s when I feel it.

An inky black chill.

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