Page 12 of Hunted Bride

“For the next forty-eight hours, you’re my plaything, little mouse.” She’s shorter than she seems on camera. The top of her head comes to my shoulder. I grab her chin, hard. Behind us, the garage door starts chugging closed. Milena’s pretty eyes flare wide. “The house is now locked. Every exit is barred. Every window bolted shut. You know this place was built as a safe house for your family. When it’s locked down, it’s impregnable.”

She nods hesitantly. I feel the slight tremble in her body. Now, she’s afraid. Good. As much as I want to keep touching her, I release her chin and loom over her. At six-foot-five, I’m at least a foot taller than she is.

“Here are the rules. I’ll give you a ten-minute head start. After that, I can chase you anywhere inside this house. The doors and windows are locked. The glass is unbreakable. You will hurt yourself if you try to break it, so don’t.”

“That’s it?” She seems nervous but relieved.

“No. There is more. I won’t be here the whole time. But you’re not going to know when I come and go.” That bit is pure evil on my part. I can rest whenever I want. She has to be on high alert the whole time. I never said I played fair. “If I catch you, I’ll take you any way I want to.”

Her tongue darts out and wets her lips anxiously. “What if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll give you a safe word. If you say it, the entire game stops. I will never contact you again.”

“What’s the word?” she says.

“Wingspan.” I smirk. Her lips part in surprise. Immediately her brow furrows. “It’s not the kind of thing you’re liable to blurt out by accident.”

Whatever protest she was about to voice dies on her lips. A shaky smile tugs at the corners. That’s more like it.

“If I catch you, we’re going to do every dirty thing we’ve been playing out for the past six years.”

“Condoms?” she asks tremulously.

I shake my head. Fuck that. No barriers between us. Ever. “If I catch you, I breed you. Understand?”

Outrage flashes behind those thick glasses. But again she swallows whatever argument she was about to launch into, and nods. Agreement. She has a way to stop me, and I will stop if she uses her safe word. I’m betting she won’t.

“Your ten minutes started two minutes ago. Better get running, Mouse.”

She takes two steps, then turns back to me, tilts her head, and asks, “Who are you?”

“Your stalker.”

“I know that. I want a name.”

“Then give me one, and get moving.”

“Khishnik,” she says. “Predator.”

She runs into the house and slams the garage door shut. Despite the blood pounding through my veins, I force myself to stay put with my eyes glued to my watch. Six minutes for her to run and hide.

Claiming her will be a cakewalk.

7

MILENA

Seconds tick by as loudly as my own racing heartbeat. Despite the fact that this house belongs to my own sister, I have only been here a handful of times. I don’t know the layout that well. If—when I get out of here, I’m going to have to break the news to my family that their safe house has been compromised.

I run into the open kitchen. On the wall is a magnet strip full of knives. I grab them all, dumping half a loaf of bread out of a plastic bag sitting on the counter and throwing the sharp things in there. I don’t have time to look for anything sturdier. With my bag of clinking weaponry, I jog down the hallway to the bedrooms.

No, no, no. Not there! Khishnik will think you want this.

Desperately, I turn on the shower, thinking it’ll make noise that might cover the sound of my footsteps.

Back outside, I realize the floor is carpeted, and the ten seconds it took to turn on the water was probably wasted time. In a panic now, I stick the smallest one into my pocket, stash the biggest knife in Alisa’s closet, another under her pillow, and the rest I toss under the bed in an adjoining guest room. I think she’s the only one who lives here. But honestly, I’ve never asked. We’re not close like that. She has her glamorous actress life making films. I have my quiet life with books across town. We have nothing in common.

Alisa’s house is modernist with a lot of windows instead of walls that overlook the California hills.