Page 44 of Tainted Blood

I sprint in the opposite direction, spilling out into the dead heart of this emerald-green mausoleum. It’s huge, the size of a basketball court, with ten new paths leading off it in every direction. A near-empty space, with nothing to hide behind, other than an old stone table in the center.

I spin around in circles, unsure which path to choose next. Everything looks the same. There are no clubs or hearts to count my way to freedom. The whole maze is a blank deck of cards.

I can hear the snarling dogs close by again.

Panic rises up in my chest like dark magic, tricking me into fear and hopelessness. I glance at the stone table and see splashes of dark crimson staining the dirty gray.

Beat the monster.

Beat this fate.

But how?

The shadows are lengthening again. I can feel them creeping across my soul as I spin harder and faster, a sob tearing from my lips. Indecision has no place in this maze. I need to choose a path, and I need to choose it fast.

Darting forward, I nearly reach one when a dull agony is shredding my left calf—dragging my first scream of the night into the open.

“Shit!”

I tumble to the ground, but the movement only produces more pain. Glancing over my shoulder, terrified of what I might find, I stifle another scream when I see a wooden arrow protruding from my lower leg.

Shit, shit, shit.

I whimper as the pain ricochets like a pinball around my body. I try to stand up, and only end up lurching back to my knees.

“Fun fact number two, Thalia…” Turning in horror, I see Spader emerging from the opposite path with a silver crossbow in his hands and another arrow drawn and ready. His guard, Franco, follows closely behind, holding the leashes of two Rottweilers with drool stringing from their open mouths. “Another amusement for bored courtiers and royals was hunting deer.”

I freeze as he raises his crossbow to shoulder height, deliberately aiming for my right thigh, his finger resting on the trigger.

“I thought you said I was a lamb?” I croak, miserably aware of my nakedness. Blocking out my humiliation, as I feel around the throbbing wound with my fingertips, coating them in sticky warmth. The arrow tip doesn’t seem to be in that deep.

I grit my teeth and prepare to do the unthinkable.

I have to get up.

I have to keep running.

I can’t do either with a fucking arrow sticking out of me.

Spader shrugs at my question. “Deer…lamb… You’re all fair game to me.”

Doing my best to ignore him, I take a firm grip at the base of the arrow shaft as he moves closer.

“But where are your tears, Thalia?” he demands, sounding disappointed. “I thought they’d be making a mess of you by now.”

“They heard your fun fact medieval crap and decided not to stick around,” I mutter, counting down the seconds in my head.

Three.

I see Santi’s face. Clear as day.

Two.

I hear his nickname for me, over and over. As loud as Ella’s war cry.

One.

I let the shadows inside me finally take over.