Doyle’s expression doesn’t change, not even for a second. He doesn’t appear hurt or offended by Dom’s mistrust. He simply says, “Do you have a choice?”
“He told us about Ellie,” Beckett points out.
“Because The Divine One played him.” Zane narrows his eyes suspiciously, as if he’ll be able to decipher every one of Doyle’s secrets by glaring at him hard enough.
Worry swells behind my ribs. “That may be true, but we really don’t have a choice. Every other option ends with Reece’s death.”
“Wow. Thanks,” Reece deadpans.
Dom gives him an annoyed look. “You know that’s true.”
“Come on,” Doyle insists, gesturing us forward. “Before time runs out. We only have a few minutes left.”
I exchange anxious glances with my guys, but Doyle is right.
What choice do we have?
Relief and terror hold hands in my chest as I follow after Doyle.
Relief…because we might be able to free Senator Reece Whipers once and for all.
Terror…because this could be a trap.
I’m not sure yet what Doyle’s intentions are. Is he on our side? A pawn The Divine One toys with? I saw his face when he discovered his twin brother and stepmother had beenmurdered and mutilated. There’s no faking that devastation, that heartbreak. If The Divine One did that to someone I love, I would do everything in my power to take her down. Destroy her. Rip her limb from limb.
Apparently, the last few weeks have made me bloodthirsty.
Who would’ve thought?
“This way.” Doyle lowers his voice to a whisper, and I realize why a second later when I hear muffled voices and laughter.
I make the horrible mistake of glancing over my shoulder, toward the hallway we didn’t go down.
Bile burns my throat, and it takes every ounce of self-control I possess to wrangle my senses under control.
Four POP members are surrounding the fifth and final lamb—the crying man I haven’t seen yet in the maze of hallways.
Only…
He no longer looks remotely human.
He’s nothing but flesh, broken bones, and blood. I think they may have skinned him, but I can’t tell from this distance. I only know it’s him from that shock of dark hair on the top of his head and the white stripe streaking through it.
Am I mistaken, or does the lump of flesh whimper?
Oh god.
Is he still alive?
I’m suddenly nothing but a burning wick, flames curling through my veins, eating me alive. Tears prick my eyes, and oxygen wheezes out of my lungs.
“Don’t look,” Beckett whispers, stepping closer to me, his broad body blocking the macabre view. “Don’t fucking look, Ellie.”
I turn away.
Ignoring the tears streaming down my face and the erratic thumping of my heart, I follow the others down the hallway, through a door, then down a second hallway. Aria was right—this truly is a maze. I wonder how we’re supposed to find the exit once the time ends.
“Over here,” Doyle whispers as we enter a sparse room with beige carpeting, blue walls, and not a single piece of furniture. Then again, I haven’t seen any furniture in this entire labyrinth, as if everything has been built specifically with this game in mind.
