Page 194 of Villainous Intent

Think, Annie. Think.

But all I could think was: Cipher gave me to this monster. He had handed me over to be butchered.

A shadow shifted at the alley entrance and I choked back a sob as I pressed my back against the wall, trying to make myself smaller.

The shadows moved. Shifted. Breathed.

“Annie...” Dread’s voice echoed through the Crucible. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. Your abilities are already fractured, Annie. Just a little more pressure...” His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. “And you’ll break so beautifully.”

The wall beside me exploded in a shower of shattered bricks and dust. I threw myself forward, stumbling. There was no time for pain or fear.

My lungs burned as I sprinted through pitch blackness, arms outstretched to avoid collisions. Every footfall sent shockwaves of pain up my leg. I couldn’t see where I was going. I couldn’t plan, couldn’t strategize. Just run. Keep moving.

“I love when they run,” Dread called out, his voice lilting. “It makes the hunt so much more satisfying.”

My hand brushed against what felt like a door frame. I ducked inside, thinking it must be a small supply closet. I tried to quiet my breathing as I listened for footsteps.

Silence.

For ten glorious seconds, I allowed myself to believe I’d lost him. I closed my eyes, savoring the momentary reprieve. Maybe I could wait him out. Maybe he’d move to another section of the Crucible.

Another explosion of concrete and debris rocked the floor beneath me. I stumbled out of the small room as I heard the ceiling crumble down where I had been.

I began running again and burst into an open area, moonlight streaming through the dome above.

Dread materialized out of the shadows and clamped a hand around my throat, lifting me off my feet.

“Found you.” He slammed me against a wall, my head cracking against concrete. Stars exploded behind my eyes as he released my throat, letting me slump to the ground.

“That was fun,” he said, towering over me. “But not as fun as what comes next.”

I blinked away tears, forcing myself to focus. Moonlight illuminated his silhouette as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a long, curved knife. The blade caught the silvery light.

“What piece of you should I take first?” He crouched before me, bringing the knife to my face. His eyes were bright coals in the low light. “An ear? A finger? Maybe a pretty blue eye?” He tilted his head. “Or do I kill you with a thousand cuts? Maybe that would be better.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’d survive much longer that way.”

He tapped the knife against his chin, contemplating. “So many options.” Without warning, he flicked his wrist. Pain bloomed across my cheek as the blade sliced through skin. I cried out, warm blood trickling down my face.

“There’s that lovely sound.” Dread leaned closer, examining his handiwork. “Maybe we’ll do a little from column A, a little from column B.” He traced the flat of the blade down my jawline. “That way you won’t know what to expect.”

He pressed the knife against my collarbone, not quite hard enough to break the skin. Then he stepped back and smiled. It was a terrible, empty thing that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Run,” he crooned.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. The moonlight faded behind me as I plunged deeper into the complex.

“That’s it,” Dread’s voice echoed. “Feed that fear.”

I ducked around a corner and his hand snagged in my hair, yanking me backward. I crashed to the ground, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Before I recovered, his weight pressed down on me, pinning me.

“Faster this time,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. “You’re making this too easy. Let’s try something different,” he whispered.

A pressure built against my temples as his power pushed against my mind.

“Interesting,” Dread murmured, his expression shifting from sadistic pleasure to genuine curiosity. “You’re still keeping me out.” The pressure intensified. My head felt like it might split open, but whatever sort of resistance my fractured abilities gave me held. Not perfect, not whole, but enough. Just enough.

Dread sighed. “I’ll have to break you the old-fashioned way,” he said, reaching for his knife again.

I thrashed beneath him, but he was too strong. The knife flashed in the darkness, and I felt the cold metal against my collarbone, then the sharp tug as he sliced through my sweater. The blade traveled downward, parting the fabric.