Chapter 18

"Maddox, are you sure about this?" Alex's voice nags in the earpiece of my phone. "There's no coming back from this once it's done."

"I know, but how else will I get my point across?" I ask.

"Alright, well listen, be discreet about this. I don't need you ending up on America's Most Wanted."

"They'd have to catch me for that to happen."

"You"re not invincible, Maddox."

I lick my lips, reveling in the way she lingers on my tongue. "And neither is she."

I hang up, slipping my phone in my pocket before reemerging from where the music isn't blaring in the back of the hall to take Alex's call.

As I enter the main room of Satan's it looks like the commotion from the costume contest has settled. Everyone looks happy and drunk, with lap dances abound. Though more importantly, I don't see my little hellcat. Fingers crossed she listened to me and is waiting outside but I don't get my hopes up, defiance is a trait she wears like a badge of honor. Luckily for her I enjoy reprimanding her just as much as I enjoy the chase. Anything that gets me close to her will suffice, even if it results in blood.

Fuck, my cock twitches just thinking about her and blood in the same sentence.

Lost in my thoughts, fantasizing about our evening outside of Satan's, I quicken my pace towards the entrance when the limited periphery my mask gives me is invaded by a flailing set of long, draping sleeves.

Glinda.

"Can I help you?" I ask, feeling my impatience beginning to mount. Every second that passes with me still in here and Blair outside, is another second longer I have to wait to wrap my hands around her pretty fucking neck.

Arms crossed, Glinda rolls her eyes. "Honey," she begins, condescendingly. "The only help you need is in the form of a fucking straitjacket, and I don't even think that will stop you." Closing the space between us, she lifts her wrinkled hand, revealing a peculiar ring. I watch the blood shake beneath the glass and huff to myself. I can't be too mad at a fellow blood connoisseur for interrupting my evening, can I?

"I mean it, whatever weird shit you've coerced her into, well-" she stops herself for a moment to laugh. "It's Blair, I shouldn't be surprised," she mumbles, shaking her head, focusing back on the conversation. She digs her finger once more at my mask. "Still, your sick twisted whatever ends at midnight, got it?"

"Or what? She going to turn into a pumpkin?" I joke.

"No," she swallows hard, taking a deep inhale that suddenly softens her stern demeanor. "I know you think you have some power over her because of what you hold over her head. No pun intended." She stops and my gaze flickers to where her hand is gliding across her neck. "Anyway, you and I both know that what you think you have on her is nothing compared to what has been said about you." The accusation in her tone is strong.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, as I try to move past her, but I'm stopped by her frail hand over top of mine. "Get off me," I seethe, but she stubbornly ignores me.

"You can deny your past all you want and pretend that what your mother made you become isn't your truth. But secrets are like a cancer, if you don't address them, they will kill," she warns, her voice cracking.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing I don't fear death then. Move aside, we're done here," I mutter, my gaze now on the doors that I so desperately need to walk through to get to her.

Don't worry little hellcat, daddy's coming.

My boot scuffs against the floor, as I step forward, not realizing Glinda's hold is still on me.

"I said move aside," I repeat, this time with an increased edge to my voice. "Move before I cut that fucking finger off."

Squeezing my finger, her voice steadies. "I'd love to see you try," she warns before finally letting go of me.

Hand on the door handle, I turn to Glinda's icy glare. "If I were you, I'd be careful talking about things you don't know. With the headless murders on the rise again, you don't want to be next," I warn with a sarcastic wink, she doesn't take well to.

Uninterested in whatever snarky reply she will have, I push the door open. The crisp October air that brushes against my mask is a stark contrast to the untethered rage I feel when I see Blair is no where to be fucking found. Of course she didn't listen. That would be too easy and nothing about Blair is easy for her defiant heart.

Desperate for her to be near me, I scan the sidewalk once more but she is nowhere in sight. Rage trickles in, overshadowing the desperation I feel, morphing me into a predator mode. Unable to contain my anger, I pound my fist into a jack-o-lantern outside the door. Some young kid shrieks as the pumpkin guts explode around my fist and his mom rushes him down the sidewalk, shielding him from me.

Pulling my hand out of the now gutted pumpkin, my ring comes into full view. I debate pressing the button that controls her harness, letting the blades wreak havoc on her flesh, draining the life out of her, but I have waited for this night for too long to not have a front row seat to her end.