I edge into the lounge room and peer at the strangely misshapen armchair. It takes me a moment to figure out that there is a body there. The skin is drawn tight and looks hard like leather, and the mouth is open, revealing a gaping hole. The eyes, too, are gone, the eyelids drawn back, showing the exposed sockets writhing with maggots. It’s clearly a woman. My foster mother must have come home.
“Is that?”
“Yeah.”
“Sad.”
I click my tongue. “Yeah, really sad.”
There’s a thunk from the basement. A distraction that I’m not falling for. It’s really unlikely Grant will be in there. He hates basements.
I wander up the stairs, pushing open the master bedroom. I’m not surprised when he’s not there. Two more bedrooms yield nothing. The bathroom similarly is empty. I get to the last bedroom. It’s my old room. Well, the old room all us kids shared.
I’m alone. Frost and Wilder have gone elsewhere. As planned. I push open the door and find Grant sitting on my bed, leaning against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankles. His eyebrows raise when he sees me.
He looks more and less. When I compare him to the Grant I grew up with, he is more, but compared to my guys…he’s nothing. Powerless. I can see him clearly, and I feel nothing for him.
“You’ve made me wait a long time, Dawson.”
“You tried to have me raped. You deserve to wait.”
“Oh, what’s a little torture between friends?”
“Becky,” I growl. “You don’t get to call me Dawson, for future reference. And I take torture personally.”
“I’ll call you what I like. I’m the one who had to put up with you for all these years. It was…excruciating.”
I shrug. “Well, I mean, you didn’t have to. You chose to.”
Grant laughs. “Oh, you think there was a choice? A blooming omega queen fell right into my lap. How could I possibly walk away? Controlling you means control of the world. It’s just unlucky that those four found you that night.”
I snort and lean against the wall. I can almost feel the creatures hidden in the house, all of them focused on me.
Focused on the guys I brought inside with me.
“So, your plan failed. I opened the worlds and didn’t close them. Sucks to be you. What I’m interested in knowing is whom you are hiding from? I would love to give them a tip. Help you reunite for old times sake.”
“How do you know that wasn’t my plan all along?” Grant sits up, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “Full of yourself now, aren’t you? Think you’re untouchable? You’re wrong. They can’t save you.”
“I don’t know, Grant, they aren’t going to stop fighting until I’m safe. Was it your plan?” I ask tiredly.
“Of course, it was. Right up until they appeared, and that’s when my beautiful thirty-year plan went down the toilet. You’ve thrown a spanner in my plans, and I want you to undo it. Close the doors. Come on, you know you want to.”
“Ah, so you need me alive.” I smile at him and put a hand on my hip.
“Only a little bit.” Grant grins, and his mouth splits wider. “I can get you close to death.”
I shake my head. “Your arrogance is shocking.”
“It’s my best feature. Do you know what my second best feature is?”
I yawn. “Please tell me. I’m dying to know.”
“My ability to plan. Like right now, your guys should be in worlds of pain.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Oh, you think I don’t have this all figured out? How your little shadows snuck in to try and rescue their illustrious leader? They’ll be in a nice cage now.”