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Zee tugged open the door and yanked me out.

“Wait!” I spluttered. Victor . . . What about Victor? It all happened at once—so much, so fast. Water bubbled and snarled, as though boiling around the truck, sucking it under.

I swam away from the splashing, groaning, glugging noises, and clambered up a bank. “Victor⁠—”

The truck vanished below the water with a final glug, and so did Zee.

A few seconds later, Zee reappeared next to Victor, who looked like one of those fancy dogs with long hair you see prancing around posh dog shows . . . that had been thrown into a swamp. He spluttered, and waded over, face peppered with weeds.

Oh dear . . . Vacations were definitely not our thing.

“I quit,” Zee said, flopping onto the bank. “I hate this place. I’m done. If there’s a fuckin’ bloodsucking leech anywhere on my glorious body, imma cry. And nobody wants to fuckin’ see that.”

A rattle of metal had all three of us peering up the bank toward the road, where the high beams from the fancy trucks highlighted a line of trolls pointing guns down at us.

Chatty troll smirked. “Mr. Skrinde would like a conversation.”

CHAPTER 10

Zee and Victor looked to me for what to say or do next. I could technically eat the mafia trolls, then we could borrow one of their trucks and ride off into the sunset. But I had argued for trying to talk our way out of this problem, so it was time to give Plan A a fighting chance.

We were marched at gunpoint up the bank and onto the track we’d abruptly left just a few minutes ago. The stubborn alligator that had caused our detour had slunk back into the murky waters somewhere.

“Get in,” one of the trolls grunted.

The truck we climbed into had its interior lit up like the inside of a spaceship. All glowing ambient lighting and plush, creaky leather.

“I am loving these kinky red-room vibes,” Zee said, scooting all the way over so Victor and I could fit too. “You guys hire it out by the hour?”

Nobody replied.

The other trolls returned to their trucks, doors slamming, and after performing some tight U-turns that almost saw us plunging down the bank again, we headed back out of the swamp.

Maybe talking was all they’d wanted all along?

“May I ask where you are taking us?” Victor enquired.

The troll in the front passenger seat grinned over his shoulder. “You’re gonna love it.”

That non-answer sounded ominous. Especially as he kept his shotgun resting over his knees.

They hadn’t tied us up, though. Perhaps they thought the guns were enough of a deterrent. I didn’t much like the idea of a shotgun blast to the face, but if the situation soured, we’d be able to escape.

Victor and Zee’s quick glances confirmed they’d had the same thoughts. We’d play along . . . for now.

The trucks trundled through the night, leaving the Everglades behind for a sprawl of houses that soon turned into blocks of modern apartment buildings. The sky turned red, sun rising behind towering palm trees. Victor eyed the approaching dawn with concern, but just as it seemed we’d be driving into full daylight, the convoy of black trucks pulled up outside a shiny, newly constructed apartment building, and we were escorted under the entrance canopy and into a sparse, marble-floored foyer.

The smell of fresh paint hung in the air.

Chatty, the troll who seemed to be the one in charge, waved a card over an elevator panel. The elevator pinged, its door opening.

“Step inside.” He gestured for us to go first.

We each peered into the elevator car.

“Is it safe?” Zee asked.

“It’s an elevator.”