Her final message in the fun house:And soon, everyone will know the truth. About me.
She’d been planning to reveal herself as the real Game Master in the finale!
Before Adi could input the code, the door above them wrenched open. Sierra launched herself to the side, out of view of the narrow steps. But Adi stayed right where he was, his fingers fumbling with the lock as he input Vera’s name.
“Adi!” Carter yelled.
He was either incredibly brave or—
Or nothing. He was just incredibly brave. He was putting his life on the line to get them out of there.
Heels clacked on the steps. Carter positioned her body to shield Beck. Sierra watched the doorway. The gun appeared first. A lacquered fingernail twitched on the trigger—Sierra moved too late— the gun went off, but so did the coffin lid. Adi leaped out of the way as a mannequin body of Dracula sprang out, immediately jerking back as the bullet struck it. Sierra’s momentum took her forward anyway, and she shoved Symphony’s arm sideways, making her stumble. Carter bounced up from her place and charged low, aiming for Symphony’s legs. Her tackle was enough to slam the woman to the ground. Carter ran to pin her, but Symphony squirmed free from Carter’s grip, kicking her in the face. Carter rolled back, clutching her bleeding nose.
Sierra slowed to a stop as Symphony staggered to her feet. She was still holding the gun, aiming it for Sierra. Her beautiful face was blotchy with anger, her mouth twisted into a sneer.
Slowly, Sierra raised her hands in surrender.
“It’s empty,” said Adi. “You’re out of bullets.”
Symphony snarled. “Am I now?”
Sierra’s breath caught. Symphony seemed sure of herself. Too sure. Her gaze darted to Adi, who’d picked up the sword and was standing at Dracula’s open coffin. The mannequin’s eyes glowed red like the bats outside, his fangs bared.
“ ‘Massacre in the Mausoleum,’ ” Symphony croaked. “That’s what the headline will be. My career might be over, but I’ll go down in a blaze of glory. No one will ever forget the name ‘Symphony Parvesh.’” She curled her lip. “And my name will never again by overshadowed by your damn father’s.”
Adi held the sword like a baseball bat, ready to swing. “You sure about that?”
She laughed. “You’re so ready to defend Victor Cunningham? You don’t even know him.”
“He’s better than you. He has to be.”
Symphony turned the gun on him. “‘Violence with Vampires!’” There was a deranged edge to her voice now. She arced the gun toward Carter, still on the floor. “‘A Dance with the Devil!’”
Adi looked at Sierra, jaw set, eyes blazing.One, he mouthed.
One? One what?
Symphony pointed the gun at Beck. “Does it hurt?” she cooed—a fake imitation of maternal concern.
“I’m . . . totally . . . fine,” Beck wheezed.
“Not for long,” said Symphony.
Two, Adi mouthed.
Sweet Jesus. What was happening?
Symphony turned the gun back to Adi’s head.
“Three!”
“No!” Sierra yelled, flinging herself in the barrel’s path, right as Adi spun around and slammed the sword through Dracula’s chest. The mannequin fell forward. A secret door at the back of the coffin sprang open, revealing a bunch of cops and Ranielle Russell—
There was a deafeningbang. Carter screamed.
Sierra jerked backward in horror. Colors flared in the corners of her vision. There had been a final bullet after all.
Adi had been wrong.
