Page 66 of A Malicious Menagerie
I feel like my vision is tunneling down, and it’s hard to hear past my own rasping breaths. Each one feels painful as it expands my tight chest, but I welcome the sensation because it means I’m still alive. For now.
As if from far away, I hear John bragging. “I heard a scream and came to investigate. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to one of Mr. Mathis’s precious guests. Imagine my surprise when I found Anna and the werewolf cozying up over a dead body. Of course, I reported the murder right away, and what did we find when we came to apprehend the murderers? An accomplice and an escape plot.” John grins, and it’s somehow not surprising that the happiest I’ve ever seen the man is while he’s selling us out.
“You are a miserable, cocksucking son of a bitch, John,” Colby snarls.
John only shrugs, no less pleased with himself. “Sticks and stones, my friend. But I’m not the one about to be stoned. Or whatever Mathis has in store for you.”
“Enough chitchat,” the man holding the gun to my head grumbles. His voice is familiar. Is that Bob? The same Bob who offered to come help me in place of Colby not long ago? “Let’s go. The boss iswaiting.”
Bob marches me down the path with a grip at the back of my neck and the gun still grazing my temple. My shoes get left behind, and I wince at the feeling of gravel gritting into my feet. Some small spark of logic demands that I make a plan, that I dosomethingother than meekly go to meet my end, but the rest of my brain is just white noise.
The iron bars of Delia’s cage soon appear in the gloam, and I flick my eyes that way to see that she’s watching, mouth agape and scarlet eyes wide. I can’t manage much more than a grimace as we leave her behind in her prison. I promised her I’d save her, but I guess that plan is just as dead as we’re about to be.
Soon, the dense woods give way to painstakingly curated gardens with the carousel at the epicenter. Normally, I find the carousel elegant and beautiful, if a little haunting. Now, it looms over us like a demented carnival attraction, and I’ve never been so aware of every set of fangs leering down at me from the frozen mounts.
And atop the carousel platform, scowling down at us like a king upon his dais, is Mars Mathis. He stands beside the red dragon with his hand resting on its neck, and I feel a dizzying rush of déjà vu back to my first night at the menagerie when we met just like this. Would I have walked away that night if I knew how everything would play out?
Maybe the more important question is, would Mathis have let me walk away? Or was I slated for death the moment I took my first step into the secret garden?
On the brick path below Mathis is Nathan in his customary place as Mathis’s right hand. I scrutinize him, looking for any sign of my ally, but his expression is blank. Back to his carefully coded programming, and my heart sinks into my belly. Was any of what he told me real? Is FABLE? Or was it all a lie to gather information for his real boss?
The guards halt us at Mathis’s feet, and I’m half surprised that they don’t force us to kneel to royalty. Two additional security guards flank the carousel, guns drawn but held down. For now. There’s a long, tense moment of silence in which I fight the urge to squirm and fidget. Seems unwise with a gun to my head.
Finally, Mathis gusts out a sigh. “I’m disappointed in you all.”
From beside me, Chase snorts. “Sorry, Dad.”
I have to stifle the urge to elbow him in the gut and tell him toshut up. Meanwhile, Mathis scowls down at him. “So irreverent,” he murmurs. “Are you really going to speak to me like that with your life on the line?” He flicks his obsidian gaze to me, and I suppress a shiver. “With yourlover’slife on the line?”
Tension radiates off of Chase. “Does it matter? You’ve already decided what you’re going to do with us.”
At that, Mathis quirks a wry smile. “Don’t be so sure of that. So many options. Which is best for the traitors who killed a dear friend and plotted to rob me of my treasures? Anna.” I stiffen at the sound of my name spat with so much venom. “You remember the story of the Grootslang.”
“Yes,” I agree faintly, and I know immediately what he’s about to do next. I don’t know whether to be relieved or distraught, so I feel both at once.
“Take my werewolf back to his enclosure,” Mathis commands the guards.
A jolt goes through Chase, and he snarls. I can tell he wants to shift, to fight, but he’s holding back for me. “I won’t leave her,” Chase growls, his panicked gaze flying to me.
“You will if you don’t want to watch a bullet rip through her skull,” Mathis replies mildly. I take a deep breath against a wave of dizziness. “Or if you don’t want to be dragged back there unconscious.” At this, Mathis takes the remote to Chase’s shock collar from his pocket and thumbs the button.
“Chase, go,” I rasp, my voice broken from nerves.
Chase firms his jaw, ready to double down. Ready to actually force Mathis to shock him into submission. “Anna—”
“I’m asking you to go,” I say desperately. “I need to know you’re safe.”
I love you.The words are burning my tongue, demanding to be let out. But even though this might be the only chance I get to say them, I won’t give Mathis or any of his cronies the satisfaction.
Chase clenches his jaw so tightly I imagine I can hear his teeth grinding. “Because you asked, Anna,” he says at last, tossing a rebellious glare at Mathis.
Mathis waves a hand, and two of the guards break off, their guns aimed at Chase’s back and prodding him to get a move on. He casts one last anguished glance back my way before letting the guards herd him toward the woods.
Then, it’s just me and Colby. The ex-soldier looks like a loaded spring ready to fly, but with a gun buried in his kidney and two more guards eyeing him warily, he’d have a hard time fighting his way out.
“Now, what to do with you two,” Mathis muses, clasping his hands behind his back and strolling along the edge of the carousel as if he’s the picture of ease. But with this man, he’s proven time and again that still waters run deep. “I’d feed you to the vampire, but I’ve noticed lately that she hasn’t been so… hungry.” He raises a silver eyebrow at us. “Can I assume that’s your doing?”
Figuring I’ve not got much left to lose, I reply, “If you’re asking if I’ve been feeding her, the answer is yes. She’s aperson, and you’ve been treating her worse than a dog.”
