Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
A low laugh rumbles through the funhouse, and my gaze flicks back and forth, scanning over every reflection staring back at me when a figure appears behind me.
The Texan Reaper shows his face with a blade in his hand and a cocky grin, then without warning, he rears back and releases the blade, launching it toward my face. Only I don’t flinch. I don’t even blink when the blade hurtles toward my face and comes up short as it slams into one of the many mirrors, cracking it right through the center.
“Shit. That’s seven years of bad luck,” I say, a grin pulling at my lips.
His face falls, realizing his fuck up, and in a flash, he whips around and darts away, just as disoriented by the mirrors as I am. Only difference is now that he cracked a mirror, I have a marker that tells me exactly where I am, which allows me to follow him.
I watch his million reflections, and with every step I take in his direction, his panic increases, getting deeper into the room of mirrors and even more disoriented. “Give it up,” I say, refusing to say his bullshit name out loud. “You have no chance here. Surrender, and I’ll make it quick.”
The Texan Reaper scoffs. He knows I’m lying. I have no intention of making this quick. It will be just as brutal as his murder of Sharkbait, and just as unforgiving as what he and his brother did to Silver.
I continue creeping closer, keeping my gaze locked on his reflection as he barrels through the mirrors, frantically trying to find a path. Each time his face slams into a wall, he has to backtrack, wasting precious seconds. It’s fucking perfect but also pathetic. Had he been able to pull this shit off, perhaps I would have had just an ounce of respect for him, but considering he couldn’t do enough homework to properly map out this mirror maze before leading me in here, he’s only proving how much of a fraud he truly is.
Getting close enough to be able to smell his fear, I adjust my blade in my hand, more than ready to prove how I received my alias. When the sound of heavy boots slamming against the ground booms through the funhouse, my back stiffens, and I pause just a moment before The Boneyard Slayer barrels through the room.
I see his reflection in the mirrors, but within seconds, the asshole gets lost. His gaze flicks from left to right, holding his hand up to keep from slamming into the mirrored walls.
“Brenton?” The Texan Reaper calls.
“That fucking bitch is after me,” he rushes out.
“I told you to deal with her.”
“I fucking tried.”
“What about the kid?”
“She got away.”
A grin pulls at my lips. Both Shadow and Siren are okay, and as The Boneyard Slayer makes his way deeper into the maze, Siren appears in the mirrors. “Fuck,” she murmurs, moving into the mirrors, taking only a moment to get her bearings and notice the smashed mirror, using it as a marker just as I had.
There’s a blade in her hand, and while I can see the way she’s second-guessing herself with every turn she takes, I know she can handle this. She makes her way deeper into the mirror maze, taking every turn to bring her closer to me, while the brothers take every wrong turn, finding themselves at dead ends and having to backtrack.
At this point, they’ll walk right into us, and we will barely have to lift a finger.
I stand dead center in the funhouse, watching the reflections of the brothers while watching Siren’s back, and the further she gets into the maze, the clearer the marks on her body become. She’s injured, and they’re not just marks from taking a beating, they’re burns. She’s had a run-in with Gasoline, and I can only assume that because she’s here, that means Gasoline has been dealt with.
It takes Siren only a minute to find the center of the maze, and as she does, I step into her, catching her around the waist. “You good?” I ask, my gaze sweeping over her body for only a second before returning to the brothers as they fumble around, trying to find one another—something we can’t allow.
“I will be as soon as we end this and get out of here. These mirrors are trippy. I don’t like it.”
“Shadow?” I ask as Siren instinctively moves beside me, taking up a fighter’s stance, ready for anything that comes our way.
“They tied her to a cart on the rollercoaster and lit it up before sending it along the tracks. She had no choice but to sit in the flames while it went around the track.”
“Fuck. Is she okay?”
“Superficial burns, but she’ll be alright. She’s pissed though. She didn’t say it, but I think she’s upset with herself that she walked into a trap.”