Chapter 17

Iknow something is going to happen before it does.

It’s not a vivid image or even a voice inside my head. It’s a feeling—spiders crawling up my spine and my heart a brick inside my chest, cracking my ribs.

The familiar tendrils of panic wrap around both my wrists. I may no longer be wearing handcuffs, but it feels as if I’m weighed down by iron manacles. My breathing is uneven as I’m forced down the ever-changing hallways of the Labyrinth, two guards on either side of me and one at my back.

I don’t know why my emotions are so rampant and chaotic. I’m heading back to Kai and the others, right? I should be calm.

Instead, my heart is tap-dancing with fear and adrenaline. It’s like I’m standing on broken glass, just waiting for one shard to break through skin and draw blood. The tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention while tremors rush through me.

Something is going to happen. Something big.

“Stop,” the guard behind me announces suddenly, and like obedient puppies, the two guards on either side of me slow their pace. I chance slipping inside one of their heads—the man on my right—to see what the commotion is about.

The guard behind me is leering, a decidedly predatory expression marring his ugly face. And no, he wouldn’t normally be considered ugly. In any other circumstance, any other time, I might even call him handsome.

But there’s a darkness in his eyes that surpasses even Damien’s. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it’s different because the darkness is directed at me, not someone else. When evil acts are inflicted on evil people, you’re able to look at it differently. It’s an entirely different sensation, an unnerving one, to be the sole focus of it.

With tousled blond hair, gemstone green eyes, and a tapered waist, he rivals even the twins in the good looks department. A slow, beguiling smile turns up his lips as he takes a step closer, so close, I can feel his rancid breath against my face.

“I can take it from here,” he says to the two guards on either side of me. They hesitate, no doubt recognizing the evil he exudes in tangible waves for what it is, but, like all cowards, they hurry away.

It’s like I told Kai earlier: those who choose to remain ignorant to the horrors that plague this world are infinitely more dangerous than the ones who actively seek to inflict harm. They see the evil for what it is, yet still choose to look in the other direction. There are only so many times they can bury their heads in the sand, though, before the past catches up and suffocates them.

I’m trembling. God, I’m trembling so badly. I know I need to fight, scream, do something, but I can’t bring my body to move. It’s just not physically possible.

I pull out of the retreating guard’s head and embrace the darkness. It cloaks my vision with the finality of a starless night. Only, in this case, I’m not sure there’s going to be a morning. How can there be? How many times can I break and shatter until there’s not enough left of me to piece back together?

I’m not oblivious to the guard’s intentions. I have dealt with my fair share of evil men taking what they want without thinking of the consequences. They see me as a body—their body—to use and discard as they please. Even now, I’m nothing but a meat suit.

His hand clamps around my upper arm, and my trembling increases. Tears trail down my cheeks.

No. No. No. No.

It’s all I can think—that one word muttered incoherently in my brain.

“Be a good bitch and spread your legs for me,” he hisses.

I’m sobbing now. There are a thousand dangers I have to fight off, but the worst one is the demon inside my head. It conjures images of all the times I’ve fought before and how futile those efforts were.

What’s the point?

Maybe, if I cooperate, I’ll at least maintain some dignity.

I brace myself. Whatever this man does, I’ll get past it. I have to.

A fierce, thunderous roar echoes from directly behind me. I freeze, muscles locking, as the hand on my arm drops abruptly.

“What the hell?” the guard asks, his voice high with shock and fear.

A body presses against my side before barreling past me. The guard begins to scream, high-pitched and keening, as sounds of flesh being torn apart echoes all around me. The growling increases in intensity as the screaming drifts off. I hear a deafening crack of bone before silence greets me.

My heart is hammering a mile a minute, playing hopscotch, and I back up until I’m touching the cold stone wall.

Tears and snot drip down my face, but I don’t raise a hand to wipe them away. Terror continues to thunder through me.

I’m terrified. Absolutely terrified.

But not of the monster who saved me, but of what might’ve happened if he didn’t.

My legs give out, and I collapse onto the floor, still whimpering.

“I’ll take care of you, mi amor,” a soft voice says as arms lift me up. Everything about this man is unfamiliar, but I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning farther against him, soaking up his warmth. He moves briskly through the twining passageways until I’m placed on a bed. One glance in the stranger’s mind confirms that this is the same one Mr. Scruffles led me to that first night.

Is he the owner?

I curl into a ball and begin to cry harder. My body isn’t the only thing that hurts now. What is it with men who believe they have the right to take liberties with females? Is this the prototype for the rest of my life?

A soft meow sounds from directly below me, and a moment later, Mr. Scruffles jumps onto the bed and curls himself beneath my chin. His purring comforts me, but even his presence isn’t enough to stop the onslaught of tears.

What happened with the guard only solidified what I have always suspected: I’m weak. A liability.

No wonder Kai didn’t come back for me. I wouldn’t want to come back for myself.

Sometime later,I find myself unable to conjure another tear. My face feels red and blotchy, and my hair sticks to the sides of my face. Throughout my entire meltdown, Mr. Scruffles remained on my chest, a calm and soothing presence. He hasn’t quite eradicated all the holes, but he has helped fill them in.

“Thank you for staying with me,” I whisper, kissing his furry head. His scratchy tongue licks my cheek once before he settles back down, his head beneath my chin.

I know I need to get up, find the guys, but my body feels disgusting. Maybe it’s the phantom touch of the guard’s hand on me, or maybe it’s the dirt and grime growing a colony on my body. Either way, I don’t think I can last much longer.

“Is there a shower here, little man?” I ask, and the cat jumps to his feet immediately.

Maybe I was right in my initial assessment. The cat seems too intelligent to be merely an animal.

I slip into his head as he leads me down one hallway, pauses, then retraces his steps. After a few tries, he stumbles in front of a coed bathroom, purring in satisfaction.

The shower beckons to me, but I hesitate. What if someone comes across me when I’m naked and bathing? Fear strikes me like a lightning bolt to the heart as I think about how vulnerable I will be.

Mr. Scruffles, as if sensing my internal dilemma, leads me into the bathroom and down the empty hall of stalls and open showers. He pauses at one in the far corner—the only one with a privacy curtain. At his nudging, I step inside and close the curtain.

I’m still seeing through his eyes, so I’m able to watch his view of the world shift suddenly. Before, he had been close to the ground, but to my horror and macabre fascination, he begins to grow and grow until it seems like he’s the height of a tall man.

Did he just shift into his monster form?

Like a sentry at battle, Mr. Scruffles steps in front of the entrance to the bathing house and guards the door.

It shouldn’t comfort me as much as it does.

Quickly, I strip out of my dirty white dress and fumble with the buttons to start the shower. Ice cold water greets me initially, and I yelp, stepping out from under the spray. After a few more tries, I’m able to warm the water somewhat. My searching hand stumbles across a bottle, and I inhale its floral scent deeply. With only a little trepidation, I squeeze some of the liquid onto my palm and lather it into my hair. Anything is better than the dirt coating my waves now.

I shower quickly, rubbing the undefinable substance into my skin.

Please, please be soap. Please be soap.

Mr. Scruffles would’ve warned me if it was anything else, right?

After I finish my shower, I search the ground for my dirty dress. The last thing I want to do is re-dress in that disgusting garment, but I have no other option.

Instead of the scratchy material, my hand finds something soft and fluffy.

A towel, neatly folded just under the curtain, as if someone had pushed it through. I relish in the towel’s softness—softer than any blanket I’ve used before—and dry myself quickly.

Bending down once more, my searching fingers come across three objects that are most definitely not mine.

A clean bra, underpants, and a dress.

I pick up the underwear, and I can tell they’re clean because they don’t stink like mud and sweat, but I can also tell they’re different from my old pair because of the silky fabric. I’ve never had something this comfortable.

Is this some other woman’s undergarments?

My curious hand stumbles across what feels like a tag.

How did brand new clothing get here?

I know I shouldn’t trust such a lavish gift, but it’s either wear that or exit the stall naked. Deciding quickly, I dress in the bra, underwear, and dress. The dress itself feels like silk against my skin. Heck, for all I know, it is silk. It conforms to my breasts perfectly before swooping outwards around my waist. It’s as if it was made for me. Even the bra and underwear are my exact size.

You know what? I’m not even going to worry about it.

Feeling more human than I have in the last few days, maybe the last month, I step out of the shower, using the towel to catch the remnants of water in my black hair.

Utilizing my powers, I slip into Mr. Scruffles’s head to see him still standing guard at the door. It looks as if he hasn’t budged an inch since my shower began.

Only, this time, he isn’t alone.

Five familiar figures stand in front of my cat, weapons drawn and faces taut.

“Move out of the way,” Kai hisses in an unrecognizable voice. “Before I kill you.”