“No, you see, he called me. Several times. I was worried something happened?—”
“Everyone’s fine, Eva,” Kate cuts in. “I gave him his medication an hour ago. He’s fast asleep.”
“Um, then maybe… Dan?”
“Daniel is at a charity event. Are you sure you weren’t looking at earlier calls?” she asks.Was I? It’s possible. I’ve had more than a few drinks tonight.“Shall I let him know you called in the morning, or do you want me to wake him?”
“No, don’t,” I mumble. “I’ll speak to him tomorrow, thanks, Kate.”
“Goodnight, hon. Take care.” Kate hangs up, leaving me utterly puzzled.
My finger slides on the screen to my recent call logs. Kate’s wrong. Grandpa called me fifteen minutes ago. Back-to-back calls.
Then, how?
A strange thought comes to mind, one that makes thephone shake in my hands. I click on the contact card and read the number saved under Grandpa’s name.
My breath locks in my throat.
It’s a Fort area code.
Someone changed his number on my phone.Who? When? Tonight?
Which begs the most important question—who called me? My screen flickers, scrolling upward without me touching it, like some freak software hack. Then, it starts vibrating in my trembling hands. I gasp.
Grandpa calling
Chills bristle over my whole body as I realize I may have just walked into a trap. I try to cancel the incoming call and select Jack’s contact on the call log, but I have no control over the screen.
Fuck. Fuck.Fuck!
I whip around and open the door, only to freeze in my tracks.
In front of me, a man stands in a black hoodie and a white ghoul mask, looming and forbidding. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t speak. Only one arm moves, a hand flying for my throat.
I shriek and slam the door on his arm.
He jams one brown boot in the door and shoves it open, throwing me off with the force. I bolt for the stairs, digging for the cold metal in my skirt. I click it repeatedly, until it flashes green, then clutch it tight in my fist and sprint down the stairs, hoping to find my way back to the crowd. Anywhere I’m not alone. Halfway—because of course, I’m the unluckiest person alive—my heel catches the very edge of a step, and I crash forward.
I yelp as the panic button flies out of my hand, hitting the rail below, then bounces down the staircase in loud metallic clangs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, pain shooting through my palms and knees. I scramble to my feet when the footsteps get closer behind me, slow, daunting, taking their time.
I half run, half stumble toward the door on the floor below, pushing it open, only to stop cold.
Another tall man with a neon-blue mask blocks my way, like an omen of doom.
Before I can catch my breath, White Mask appears behind me. And just like that, I’m trapped. My pulse hammers as I stare between the two unmoving men, twisted amusement radiating from behind their grotesque masks. In a hopeless attempt to escape, I dart toward the dimly lit hallway. Not two steps in, Blue Mask grabs me by the waist.
“No,” I scream. “Hel—” The word dies in my throat when he slaps a hand on my mouth.
“This will go a lot easier if you remain quiet, princess,” he snickers, lifting me off the ground and dragging me away.
Uselessly, I kick my legs at him, punching and scratching where I can. Further down the hallway, White Mask pulls open a door.
No!
I grab the doorframe, refusing to let go, my sweaty palms holding on for dear life. But I’m yanked inside with brute force.
