“I’m your mother?—”
“You’re a virus,” Zane cut in, his voice steady now, iron threaded through every syllable. Thomas heard Felix’s words echoed there, cold, deliberate, cleansing, like he’d leant Zane some of his strength to get through this or channeled him somehow. “And I’m done letting you poison me.”
Beverly’s face twisted with rage. “You ungrateful little?—”
“Ten minutes starts now,” Thomas said calmly, pressing a button on his phone.
A timer flickered to life on the wall behind him, projected large enough for the whole room to see. It began to count down from 10:00 in red digital numbers that glowed like embers.
Beverly looked at the timer. Then at the room full of predators, who seemed to swell towards her as one, like a wave ready to drag her under. Then at her son, who was finally standing up to her.
And then she ran.
Slow at first, like disbelief was still dragging at her heels, then faster, panic taking over as her stilettos slipped against marble. Her shoes clicked wildly as she made for the front doors, tugging the handles in vain. The locks didn’t budge.
Every eye followed her as she spun toward the windows, trying to shatter them, then the side doors, anything that might offer escape. When nothing gave, she bolted for the hallway.
The moment she vanished, the ballroom erupted into controlled chaos.
Elite security agents rolled out carts of weapons and tactical gear, the metallic clang of hardware mixing with rising chatter. Hunters grabbed knives, tranquilizers, earpieces, masks. It was the sound of organization gone rabid.
The war room crew peeled off toward their stations. Children stayed sealed in their wing, blissfully unaware that bedtime stories had turned into bloodsport downstairs.
Thomas turned back to the crowd, voice amplified by the mic.
“You can hunt in teams or solo,” he said, calm and commanding. “Everyone, run a comms check. Those hunting, there are few rules, but therearesome. Make it last. Make it hurt. She’s earned it. And most importantly, subdue, but don’t kill. We have somethingspecialwaiting for her at midnight. Until then…” He spread his hands, benevolent as any god. “Do what you will.”
His gaze swept over his family—his army—his monsters. “Those in support roles, coordinate from the war room. We have eyes everywhere.”
He turned to Zane, who stood frozen amid the chaos, a strange calm settling over him. His pupils were huge, his breathing shallow. Shock. Or maybe relief.
“This is for you,” Thomas said quietly, low enough only Zane could hear. “All of it.”
Zane swallowed hard, nodding. “Thank you.”
Avi’s voice broke the silence. “Are you participating or watching from the war room, Lois?”
Zane hesitated. “I’m gonna sit this one out, I think. T-til the end, anyway.”
“What about you, kitten? You fighting or fleeing with Zaney?” Avi asked.
Felix squeezed Zane’s hand. “I go where Zaney goes,” he said softly. “You two be careful.”
“You think one frail old lady stands a chance against thirty trained killers?” Asa asked, smirking.
“Don’t underestimate that bitch,” Zane spat. “She’s survived this long.”
“That ends tonight,” Thomas said.
They all turned toward the glowing red clock, bodies going still as the countdown neared zero. The only sound was the rhythmic tick of numbers fading one by one.
0:09.
0:08.
0:07.
0:06.
