“They’reunnatural, Darren. Three hearts, parrot beak, goat eyes, andwaytoo intelligent for something with eight arms. It’s like Frankenstein’s mollusc. And don’t even get me started on the way theymove.”
Darren lost the battle with his composure, a low laugh escaping him. “Are you serious? Yesterday, you went full-on Wonder Woman and climbed out of an elevator, and now you’re scared to pass a fake octopus? It’s not even moving, Emma.”
As if on cue, a voice sparked over the speakers:
Stand by for tech testing. Horridor going live in five, four, three, two, one...
The overhead lights snapped off. Sickly green and red washed over the tunnel as the exhibit powered to life. Eerie music started pulsing through the speakers, a mechanical whir rising beneath it.
The octopus twitched once. Emma gasped, jerking back instinctively. Then its tentacles lifted, sweeping in slow arcs. They blocked most of the passage, leaving only a narrow gap along the wall.
“Well,” Darren said, cocking his head. Crimson light painted his face. “Now it’s moving.”
Emma’s palms had gone clammy, her skin prickling with icy dread. “We’re going back.”
Darren stepped closer. The teasing was gone, replaced with something softer. “We’re almost at the end, Emma, and the Con is about to open. We need to get backstage before the crowds flood in. The only way out is through.”
She shook her head, planting her feet. “Nope. Not happening. I’m going back.”
“No, you’re not.” His voice softened. “We’re conquering this fear together. Come on, Emma. I promise I won’t let the giant fake octopus touch you.”
The tentacles dipped again, suction cups flashing in the colored light. Beneath it, a tagline glowed in dripping letters:
IT KNOWS YOU’RE THERE.
“I bet you do,” Emma muttered to the creature.
Darren lifted his hands, then extended one. His palm open, steady. “I’ve got you, Emma. You can break all the emergency buttons you want once we’re out.”
Her breath came out shallow as she stared at his hand. If he tried to scare her as they passed, she’d probably drop dead on the spot.
“I mean it,” he said, tilting his head, coaxing her gaze up to meet his. “I’ve got you.”
Emma took a slow, steadying breath. Then reluctantly placed her hand in his.
He didn’t tease. Didn’t play around. He slid an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to his side as they edged forward. Every muscle in her body locked tight, adrenaline rushing as the rubbery limbs swayed inches away. She turned her face to the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. Her hands instinctively closed around his arm, clenching hard enough to bruise.
But beneath the pulsing, nauseating fear, there was something else. His thumb rubbed soothing circles just above her shoulder. The solid press of his body against hers. And the fact that she felt...safe.
“Almost there, Emma,” he murmured against her hair.
Maybe she held on just a little tighter than necessary.
Darren didn’t let go. Not even when they stepped free of the writhing monster and her shoulders sagged in relief. Emma exhaled, shaky, and untangled herself from his grip.
“Thanks,” she muttered. “For getting me past that thing. And for not making fun of me. Mostly.”
“My pleasure,” he said, beaming at her. “Though I have to admit, I’m insanely curious about the origin story for this little...peculiarity.”
Emma grimaced. “Not sure, actually. Best guess is that my parents should have waited a few years before putting me in front ofThe Little Mermaid.” She shuddered. “Ursula still gives me the creeps.”
“Of course.” Darren nodded. “The classic rated-G trauma. We all have it.”
“Shut up,” Emma said, but she couldn’t help laughing.
“No, really,” Darren said. “You’re full of surprises, Emma Whitehart. I like that about you.” He leaned a fraction closer. “Even the bizarre phobias.”
She swatted his chest lightly. Then silence fell for a beat.
