Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Suddenly, the right head snapped into perfect clarity.
Its pupils shrank and its drooling mouth pulled back in a snarl. And in a harsh, hissing squeal that made Noelle’s blood run ice-cold, it shrieked:
“THIEF!”
The sound was so sharp it felt like a blade cutting through the room.
Its eyes—two luminous, deranged points of yellow—focused directly on Burn.
“Thief…Liar!” it screamed, and the huge right arm came to life, swinging upward in a violent, spasmodic lunge.
“Burn!” Noelle cried, panic tightening her throat.
But the Dark Twin was faster that the drunken Trollox—much faster.
He ducked under the snatching hand, twisting away even as he ripped the long silver key from Thune’s pocket.
And then, before Noelle could blink, Burn drove the key straight into the right head’s right eye.
There was a sound like a wet pop and a spray of milky fluid burst outward.
The right head shrieked—a high, keening roar of pure agony.
The entire right side of Thune’s enormous body spasmed violently, arm flailing, leg kicking, the couch groaning under the sudden thrashing weight.
“That’s for what you made us do to each other, you sick fucker!” Burn bellowed, yanking the key back out in a spray of gore.
He raised it again, Rage flooding his features, the red burning brighter in his eyes.
“No!” Bright shouted, lunging toward him. “Burn—we don’t know how long the medication will last! We have to get out of here, now!”
“Burn—please!” Noelle begged from across the room, her heart in her throat. “I just want to go home!”
Burn froze.
For one stretched-out second, it was unclear which voice reached him—Bright’s logic or Noelle’s fear. His massive chest heaved and his knuckles whitened around the blood-slick key.
Then the Rage flickering in his gaze dimmed by a fraction and he lowered the key.
Bright grabbed his arm and dragged him back from the still-thrashing Trollox.
“Come on!” he hissed. “We have to go.”
Noelle scrambled off the mattress, dress still half-on, half-off. Bright snatched up their scattered clothes, stuffing everything into his arms as he sprinted toward the stairs.
Behind them, the Trollox’s right head screamed and shrieked, the wounded socket leaking thick yellowish fluid. The left head remained oblivious, snoring wetly. The middle head blinked slow, drugged blinks, looking confused and drunkenly outraged but unable to move.
The entire giant body convulsed until the couch cracked under it.
The camera drone zipped frantic circles overhead, recording every frantic heartbeat.
“Move!” Burn barked, pushing Noelle ahead of him as they raced for the stairway.
Noelle’s legs pumped, her breath burning her lungs, her heart thundering like a drumbeat of terror.
We did it. Oh God—we actually did it. But we’re not safe yet—we’re not safe yet—RUN—
The three of them burst out of the basement like hunted animals, slamming into the hallway above, the cold air of the upper floor hitting Noelle’s face like a slap.
They didn’t slow…they didn’t look back.
They ran like their lives depended on it—because they did.
69
BRIGHT
Bright’s boots pounded the corridor floor, the harsh overhead lights strobing over his vision like warning sirens.
Come on, come on…just a little farther. Please don’t let us run into that damned Cookie…
The winding passage toward the shuttle bay felt like it stretched for miles. Every turn felt like a trap. His nerves were razor-wire tight, ready to snap. Beside him, Noelle was still half-dressed, pale and swaying slightly as she clutched the torn dress around her curvy frame. Burn’s jaw was clenched in that terrifying way that meant he was barely holding back his Rage.
One wrong move, and the Trollox chef could blow the whole plan, Bright thought. He watches everything…knows everything. Please—just this once—let the bastard have the night off.
They rounded the final curve. The sealed arch to the shuttle bay loomed ahead—carved in sleek purple and gold, gilded with curling script. The symbol of the Trollox Cruelty Cartel shone faintly in the sterile light above the doors.
Bright breathed a sigh of relief—there were no guards, no alien chef…no sign of anyone at all.
Thank the Goddess!
They slipped through without challenge. Bright felt sweat bead on the back of his neck as the doors closed behind them with a quiet hiss.
The shuttle sat waiting for them in the center of the bay—sleek and rounded, a glossy egg-shaped vessel painted in lustrous purple with gold trim curling around the nosecone like ornamental vines. The sight of it sent a wave of relief crashing over him.
We made it.
But even as his heart lifted, another weight pressed down hard behind his ribs.
It’s not over yet. We still have to get out of here.
They scrambled aboard, Burn swiping the silver key through the console scanner. A flash of green acknowledged the command and the door slid open with a hiss.
The interior was plush and opulent—too much so for a standard shuttle. It smelled of stale perfume and expensive lubricant. The couches were wide and low, upholstered in shimmering gold leather that stuck to bare skin. The control panel was dotted with oversized, gemlike buttons—each glowing softly in unnatural hues.