AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Vori raced along winding human-realm streets at top goblin speed toward the sex dungeon where she’d met Petra only weeks ago.The multimillion-dollar homes of this Hollywood Hills neighborhood stood dark and silent.These twisting roads had been hard enough to navigate with a GPS and her Ducati and streetlights.Now, the blood moon shining red above served as her only light and guide.
The wind moaned between the trees, and a gate nearby screeched and swayed like she’d wandered into a rich goth photo shoot.Or an indie horror flick.At least she didn’t pass any humans.
Pushing against the pain in her shoulder, she rolled her neck.A loud crack brought temporary relief.Petra had done this to her.The crazy goblin had waited behind a corner of Kradnovtl’s ever-changing castle and used Vori’s own speed against her.One well-timed toss, and she’d gone down, her green skin scraping on the stone floor.Then, before she could stagger back to her feet, Petra had shaken her like a half-stuffed rag doll, popping her shoulder out of place.The cuts and scrapes burned with cold smoke-drenched air whipping through the canyon to sting the raw skin.
The one good thing about getting her ass kicked by Petra was now she knew the goblin’s secret weapon.Surprise.Skilled in ambush, she’d attacked the first mark by leaping from the trees and bushes onto his car.The king?She’d choked him from behind with his chain.She’d killed Artanya by whipping out that knife and slicing her own sister’s throat.Surprise was Petra’s edge.
Not this time.
One last push of speed and Vori stopped in front of the storybook cottage gone wrong.Her first impression had been right.With its curved roof, the pointed off-center gables, the mismatched stone that didn’t quite fit with the tiles—if she squinted, it was a massive version of Baba Yaga’s house, just waiting to sprout giant bird legs and lumber down the hillside.
In the darkness, the house faded into the tall trees and thick bushes surrounding it.Maybe a design meant to evoke the decadent feeling of a hidden countryside oasis tucked away in Los Angeles, but it instead flooded her with dread, fear, and resignation.
There was nowhere to go but in.She crept to the door, not invoking shadow magic.Not yet.But she called on every sneaky skill she’d honed as a thief.The wind rustled the leaves, and a siren sounded from far off, but no noises came from inside.Not a sound.
What she wouldn’t give for a lighter or a phone.Anything to break the endless black with the faint red cast from the moon.She’d gone into dark places before.Hell, she could become a shadow.But this darkness smothered, as if it could creep inside her lungs and steal the air from her.
Slowly, she tested the oblong doorknob, twisting her fingers over the cold metal engravings and waiting for the catch that never came.It’d been left unlocked.The knob turned without a sound.She pushed the heavy wooden door, wincing when the hinges creaked and the bottom caught against a plush rug with a swish.
A glint of light caught on the doorframe, revealing silver blood streaks along the wood.Goblin blood.She touched it and yanked her hand away from the fresh sticky squickiness.Yep.She’d found the right place.
Slipping inside, she stood in the foyer.The soft pastel paint on the walls she’d noticed on the last visit looked to be an endless sea of grays without the dazzling chandelier’s gleam.The stained glass she’d thought so whimsical with its bright colors and elaborate fairy-tale scenes seemed all wrong with just the silver outlines visible.They depicted childhood stories, yes, but at the worst moments.The wolf’s unmasking, the heroine’s terror as she ran from the hunter’s ax, the witch’s candy cottage in the woods with smoke winding from its chimney.
She shivered even in her goblin skin and fought the urge to rub her arms.Where to start her search without announcing her presence?
Methodical and room by room seemed the best option.Otherwise, Petra could sneak behind her.Like she had with Uncle Lenneck right before strangling him with his own vanity and that damned enormous amethyst.Still—playing hide-and-seek with a killer brought a stomach-clenching, pulse-pounding adrenaline rush that screamed “danger, danger” in Vori’s head at a deafening volume.
She had to find Petra and the stones, finish the blood vows.She couldn’t think about the kill or be killed part.
Cracking open the first door on the left, she thanked the powers that this one’s hinges had been oiled.It swung open silently to reveal the racks and racks of wardrobe choices.A small army could be hiding in here, and she wouldn’t see them.She stared and waited, watching the gaping spaces between the hangers, the empty stalls, the bare-bulbed vanity mirror, the ink-black gap between the door and its frame for a shift in the shadows.
Nothing.
One room down.How many more to go?
The long white hallway stretched in what seemed an endless tunnel.She could do this.Kradnovtl’s castle had real cave-like tunnels, magical ones that could change in size or direction at any second.Of course, royal-blooded killers didn’t normally prowl those halls.
The hardwood groaned beneath her step.A flash of movement had her spinning, ready to attack.Her own reflection—wide eyes, clenched jaw, tight fists—stared back from a mirror.
A chill stole past her thick goblin skin.Her pulse skyrocketed into a rapid-fire blast across all her senses.
A muffled whimper cut the silence.Icy panic twisted and writhed like a living thing along her arms and legs, through her gut, and up her spine.
Where had the noise come from?Inside the house?Or outside?She froze—not breathing, not blinking.
A whimper could’ve been a dog somewhere.Or a cat.Did cats whimper?
She counted her pounding heartbeats but could hear no other sounds.High windows let in a hazy glow from the full moon.Just enough to reveal the outlines of each room.The child’s play setup with its tiny tea table and glassy-eyed dolls seemed sinister with a don’t-go-in-there vibe.But empty.Same with the fake medical room complete with exam table, stirrups, and a terrifying assortment of scalpels that glittered in the dim light.She backed out of the last with a shudder.
In the kitchen, nothing had changed since the last time she’d stood here—heaps of dirty pots and pans in the sink, convenience-store snack wrappers all over the table.
But no Petra.
Where could she have gone?
The narrow window of time for traveling back to Kradnovtl ticked a steady countdown in Vori’s head.One of those with blinking red numbers like on the bombs in blockbuster movies that announced she’d failed to complete the blood vows, to collect the amethysts, to save the human world from Petra and maybe to keep Kradnovtl from dying.To take the big risk and tell Perry she loved him with all those guns pointed at them.
