Page 96 of Our Little Monster
I grabbed the ankles of one while Sam grabbed the other, and we dragged them into the bushes off to the side of the building. I didn’t see any jewelry on them, so I knew they’d burn when the sun rose.
Inside, I was sure Victor was waiting, unaware of the storm we were bringing to his doorstep. I imagined the look of surprise on his face, the realization that he hadn’t fully broken me—that he never would.
“Ready?” I asked Sam, our eyes locking in silent camaraderie.
“Ready,” she confirmed, gripping her weapon tighter.
We moved, two hunters against the darkness, weaving a deadly path toward retribution.
“Ever think about taking up a quieter hobby?” Sam whispered, her boots silent against the gritty floor. “Like knitting or wine tasting?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I scoffed, scanning the shadows for movement. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic tocalmat this point.” At this, she huffed a laugh.
We crept along the corridor, our breaths shallow. Another one of Victor’s men didn't see it coming; one moment he was standing—the next a crumpled heap on the concrete. We stashed him in an old supply closet, his final resting place with the forgotten mops and buckets.
The next Vampire fell just as swiftly, a silent dance between predator and prey ending with the fleshy sound of wood through his heart.
“Four down,” I noted, dragging the limp form into the dark embrace of an empty room. “This is starting to feel like a twisted game of hide-and-seek.”
“Except they’re really bad at seeking.” Sam’s voice held a note of sarcasm, but I caught the tightness around her eyes. This was personal for both of us.
We advanced deeper into the belly of the warehouse, the silence growing heavier with each tentative step. A shiver ran down my spine, not from fear but from anticipation.
The largest room still awaited us, the heart of this forsaken place.
“This feels too easy,” I murmured as we paused at the threshold of the expansive space, my voice barely audible.
She nodded her agreement with oddly wide eyes.
We had come this far, and there was no turning back. Whatever lay ahead, we would face it together, as family, as hunters, as survivors of a world that had shown us little mercy.
“Ready to crash the party?” I asked, my lips curving into a grim smile.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Sam replied, and together we stepped into the lion’s den.
The silence shattered with the abrupt flicker of harsh white lights, blinding after the cloak of darkness we had grown accustomed to. My hand instinctively flew up to shield my eyes, but I quickly squinted through the glare to assess the sudden vulnerability of our position.
Sam and I were no longer hunters moving through the shadows.
We were prey out in the open.
“Welcome, Serina,” a voice, smooth and mocking, cut through the tense air like a blade. Victor, I presumed. He emerged from the far end of the room, flanked by his goons.
There were six of them, seven if you included him.
I gripped my weapon tighter, feeling the weight of the stake in my hand, its familiar handle reassuring against my palm. Sam mirrored my stance, her own stake at the ready.
Our silent communication spoke volumes; we’d fight our way out or die trying.
“Did you really think it would be so easy?” Victor’s lips curled into a cruel smile as he circled us like a shark scenting blood. “You see, I’ve been expecting you.”
“Expecting us?” I spat, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I think you’re just playing with your food.”
“Ah, Serina,” he tutted, wagging a finger as if chiding a child. “Always so spirited. It’s one of the qualities I admire about you. But you don’t see the full picture.”
His taunting gaze held mine, reveling in his supposed superiority. And then he dropped the bombshell that turned my blood to ice.
“Did you know thatyour boys, Bastian, Thorne, and Nox, have been keeping tabs on you? Long before your father died, they watched you… and your father. They reported to me about your little family vacation that you had the year before last, telling me about all the places you would go together.” Victor’s voice dripped with insidious pleasure.
