Page 87 of Guarded By the Nightmare

“Darling?” Royce said to Omara.

“There’s only a hundred of them,” Omara said with a frown. “They’ve been waiting for us, but someone else beat us here—there’s a ceremony going on—and he knows he’s not allowed to touch you,” she said, twisting back to eye me, before cocking an eyebrow.

That had Sylas’s thumbprint all over it.

“Also he feels bizarrely safe right now, for someone wrapped in webbing,” Omara said, making a face.

“It’s the luck thing—I told you,” I said, and overhead clouds rolled in, even though it’d previously been a sunny day. “See?”

“Are we allowed to kill them?” Nine asked of Royce.

“I’d prefer that we don’t,” he said. “Too much paperwork.”

“Well, that should be fine,” Omara said, striding forward, one hand outstretched. I felt her mind brush mine, but knew it was going after fraternity member’s thoughts with intent—then she stumbled, and cursed. “What the—” she gasped, twisting sideways. One of her heels had snapped, and she’d twisted her ankle. “Stupid legs!” she shouted, staring down at her own in frustration.

“Come here,” Royce said, moving behind her to easily pick her up.

She looped her arms around his neck and glared outwards. “We can walk in now. I’ll get the ones on the left—Sirena, you take the ones on the right.”

“On it, Mom!” Sirena said.

“And I’ll take point,” I said, trotting up to do so, as Nine followed me.

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” he complained.

“Yeah, but they’re gonna take the not-hurting-me thingveryseriously.”

“Nevertheless,” he said, and created a Y-shaped netting to hold the man he’d trussed in front of me, suspended from his two front legs, angled out, as he walked with his other six. The man was still squirming around, and in between the weave of Nine’s web on him, I got a glimpse of a Rolex watch. “He can be your shield.”

It didn’t seem worth fighting. “Okay—let’s go around back.”

Our small group angled down the road that led to the cabin, and found a wall of alumni there, all studiouslynotpaying attention to us, which I assumed had something to do with Omara and Sirena’s telepathic abilities—I would’ve found it more impressive, if I didn’t know what Sylas could do with time.

And lo and behold, when we made it to the back of the cabin—where most of the men were—the entrance to the cellar door was alsothere. One wide wooden door was open and the other was closed, with Trent standing on top of it.

“Let me talk to him,” I told Omara, brushing the hanging Rho Rho Phi guy out of the way to step forward.

“That monster said you would come for him—and to not to let you through,” Trent said. There was a bloodstain on his jeans, but I couldn’t imagine Sylas letting Trent hurt him. “How’s it feel to know that no man left on earth wants to touch you?”

“Fuck you, Trent—where is he?”

Trent shook his head. “Mina—just turn around now. While you still can. Before we hurt your friends. Ella’s free, you’ve killed the rest of my crew—we’re fucking even, all right?”

I didn’t kill Braden, so I chalked that up to Sylas. “Fucking even?” I repeated with a laugh. “While the man I love is trapped below?”

Trent continued, undeterred. “We won’t have to sacrifice anyone anywhere, ever again, Mina,” he said, like that was a sensible statement to make. “Things’ll just keep working out for us. Like they’ve always done. Like they’re supposed to.” He hopped off of the cellar door and took a step toward me. “Come on—you and I used to get along. Be reasonable, just this once.”

“No fucking way,” I said, shaking my head, and Trent lifted a cupped hand to his mouth...to howl.

And all of the men that’d seemed so preoccupied moments ago, because of Omara and Sirena’s telepathy, turned to look at us, brandishing weapons.

“We knew what you wanted,” Trent said, pulling a knife out from his pocket, and tapping its bloody tip against his temple. “But our magic’s stronger than yours now. Just remember, you had your chance to save them.” This last was directed at me. “No guns!” Trentshouted. “Don’t hit the brunette! But everyone else is fair game!” he said, before diving into the cellar and slamming the door shut behind him. I heard him pulling a latch into place on its far side.

Nine swung his abdomen to block Royce and the other women, while unholstering several weapons from his bag—while I ran out front, prepared to use myself as a human shield.

“What’re you doing?” Nine said, sweeping me away. He threw the member he’d trussed, sending a group of the RRP sailing—their luck was good, but it wasn’t perfect.

Then a brave cluster of them ran forward, with bladed weapons out—pretentious shit, like swords they bought at the mall—but I had no doubt they’d manage to be lucky with them.

---