Page 22 of Bound to the Minotaur
My gaze went back to the maze. Avis was at the gate now, his sleek gray body quivering with tension, blue eyes piercing me with a stare that said, “Are you coming?” So, I ran, right into the maze.
Branches reached out like beckoning fingers, the entrance yawning wide. My boots pounded over moss and old stones, breath puffing in harsh bursts as I ducked into the twisting path I was not meant to enter. Not yet. Not this way.
Shouts erupted behind me. “She’s in there!” someone barked. A curse followed. Then more boots—faster—fumbled over roots and gravel as they scrambled to follow.
Even as I turned corner after corner, heart pounding so hard it echoed in my ears, I could feel it: the maze. It wasn’t just somewalls and hedges, or broken cars twisted and shaped into new, other things. No, it felt alive, ancient, watching. Its paths lit in little ways: a glimmer of light on bark, a ripple of air where I should turn left instead of right. A rustling that didn’t mean danger but welcome.
Avis kept pace, darting ahead and looking back when I hesitated, his meows sharp and urgent: this way, this way, don’t stop, don’t look back. But I couldn’t help it; I looked, just once.
A scream echoed behind me, followed by a sickening crunch. Something growled—and it was definitely not Avis. Definitely not human. Then, silence.
I kept running.
Another voice shouted my name, but not like Gregory would have. This voice was sharp, angry, desperate to capture, not protect. A second later, a gunshot cracked through the air, but the, maze didn’t let it find me.
The paths kept shifting, tangling, folding in on themselves like a living thing confused by the intruders. That could simply be my panic, a trick of the mind, played by fear and the surreal surroundings. Dark. Confusing. Scary. I ducked around another hedge wall, nearly skidding on a patch of damp moss, and kept going.
Another scream, much closer this time—a male voice, high-pitched in fear and pain. I felt no guilt. They didn’t belong here.Idid, and the maze knew it. So did Avis, pressing tight against my legs before leaping up a ledge to scout ahead. And somewhere,through the thick tangle of forest beyond the hedges, I knew Gregory would come.
He would feel me. Find me. He said he could feel my need, the danger that clung to me, so he’d know I was in danger now. All I had to do was keep moving, keep breathing, keep running—and trust that this strange, ancient place, and the bull-headed beast who claimed it, would protect what was his.
I did not expect the sudden roaring from my left—loud and fearsome—followed by a blast of heat. I stumbled to the side; the whole maze seemed to shiver and groan around me. Avis screeched as if he were hurt, blue eyes flashing like fire. More sharp, staccato sounds echoed behind me, a rapid-fire crackle of guns. My heart ached in my chest, not just from its fast pace, but from fear as well. Gregory, were they shooting at him?
Despite the roar and crackle of heat coming from beyond the wall of hedge and twisted car parts, I turned to face back the way I’d come. The maze wasn’t talking to me now. I saw no glimmers to guide me, no ruffle of bramble to ease my path onward—as if it had gone silent, dead. Did that mean it was focused on helping its master? Was Gregory in trouble?
There was a shove against my knees, paws up on my thighs, pressing with the sharp prick of claws, and Avis meowing loud and insistent. I stumbled back instinctively, my hand moving to push the claws from my thick leggings, no match for the sharp prick of a feline’s wrath. “I’m going,” I murmured, stepping back as the cat herded me away from the heat to my left. “But Gregory…”
Avis meowed again, hard and sharp, piercing me with a fierce glare. I no longer wondered how he could appear so clever—he was that clever—because the cat was more, just like the man was more. Right now, he was telling me to keep running, that I couldn’t turn back. I wanted to, certain that Gregory was hurt, but I couldn’t.
At his urging, I began to run again, breath sawing in and out of my lungs in painful bursts, my side aching fiercely. I thought I’d be running toward the center of the maze—the core of this place—but when the pathway twisted back to the left, I knew just how wrong that thinking was. Avis yowled in fury as I stumbled to a stop, then began to backpedal as fast as I could, horror spreading across my face.
We were at the edge of the maze, and that heat? It was fire. A hole had been burned right through the outer wall, and somehow we’d ended up running straight toward it. I did not think that had been the maze’s intention, as far as it could think or plan… but maybe we’d been too close already when the fire started. It did not burn well or easily; too much metal and wet, sap-laden branches. It cracked and hissed, popping and snapping, but a hole had been made.
Three men stood beyond it, one wielding a flamethrower like he was some kind of action hero from a movie. Only, this was no hero but one of my father’s goons. The other two had machine guns slung from straps over their shoulders and were hacking at the branches with machetes and determination. They saw me, their expressions becoming excited, and then they gave chase.
I ran, but without the maze helping, it was not nearly as easy. I turned back the way I’d come and abruptly ran into an old carthat I swore hadn’t been there before. I skidded to the right into another passage, and my jacket caught on brambles, tugging at my hair. The brush of a hand came at the back of my neck, then yanked on my coat, and I fought myself free of the fabric with a scream.
Avis was on the guy then, growling and hissing like a demon as he clawed into the expensive wool of a suit jacket. A gun fired, and I dropped to the ground, my hands covering my ears. It was instinct to roll and scuttle into the dark knot of twisted roots shaped like a hollow in the hedge. Only then did I realize that the shots had come from farther away. By then, it was too late.
The cat had only managed to distract one guy, and the other dove after me, heedless of his suit. He was far more interested in pleasing my father, and I was the prize. His hand closed around my ankle, and he yanked with implacable force. I kicked and screamed but was no match for his firm grip. Then I was thrown over a shoulder, and he began running back out of the maze, followed by his partner.
We passed the guy with the flamethrower, who had continued to damage and burn the maze. “Gregory!” I screamed as we passed the demolition guy, and he twisted his head to look at me, flames dancing in black eyes. Ah, shit… that wasn’t just a reflection, was it? Or was I seeing strange things in every corner now?
The air was colder outside the maze, slapping me in the face with its briskness and sliding down my spine beneath my sweater. My jacket had gotten lost, but Avis was still with me, dancing around the pair of mobsters that had kidnapped me, hissing, growling, swatting at them with utter fury. Guy number one had a shredded pants leg, and his jacket was in ribbons across hisback. I shouted a warning when, clearly fed up, he raised his automatic weapon and aimed it at the cat.
My shout was met with a howl, loud and eerie. It was enough to pose a distraction, and Avis melted away like snow under the sun. I saw it when I twisted myself awkwardly over my captor’s shoulder: a wolf, barreling around the corner of the maze, fangs bared, saliva dripping, eyes alight with an impossible inner glow.
I saw the barrel of a gun go up, not the one from my captor, but the other guy. The wolf kept charging; he’d be shot to pieces. A silver blur: Avis crashing into that gun arm from out of nowhere. The shots went wide, rattling loudly through the air. The wolf swerved as the flamethrower abruptly swiveled his way, and then I shut my eyes. A jaw closed around flesh, bones crunching, a man’s tortured scream echoing through the cold fall air.
At the crunch of tires and the roar of an engine, I flicked my gaze back to the world and to the noise. A truck was barreling through the forest, off-road, bumping across roots. For a moment, I hoped that those were friends of Gregory—like that wolf surely was—but when they halted next to us, my captor rushed to toss me into the backseat.
I fought, kicking and screaming, until someone in the front of the car spun around and pressed the barrel of a gun to my forehead. “Shut up,” he warned in a cold voice. With ice splashing down my spine, I obeyed, my eyes huge and focused on that deadly weapon. Even with that wolf ravaging one of them outside, there was no way out.
That meant I had no option but to be dragged to wherever my father was hiding. Not that he’d ever call it hiding. Draggedbefore his throne, tossed at his feet, and onto his mercy, I could only hope that my minotaur had another trick up his sleeve—because I was all out.
The truck spun, not waiting for anyone else to get in, and raced back into the forest, barreling through underbrush and deadwood. I got tossed around in the backseat, but that was the least of my concerns. Through the back window, I could see the wolf fighting with a guy, Avis darting in and out to deal with the second man with the gun. I wasn’t sure who was winning, but if they managed to use that weapon… I was sure it would be all over for both the cat and the wolf, werewolf?
The thought struck me that it could be the mayor, that cute, vibrant, and grandmotherly woman I’d met earlier that morning. The wolf pounced, jaws snapping, and the guy with the flamethrower went down.
