Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

I shake my head. No. This wouldn’t be dangerous. If it were, they would’ve blocked it off. Right? A bunch of kids just went in. It’s fine.

I push off my foot, breaking into a run as the wind sweeps through the cypresses, the promise in the gray sky and looming clouds making the hair on my arms rise. I turn right and wind around the trees, following the path and losing my way as the entrance to the maze gets farther away from me the deeper I go.

The smell of earth fills my lungs as I breathe in, and even though the ground is covered with grass, dirt scuffs my slippers, and I shift uncomfortably. They’re going to be ruined now. I know it.

But Madame insisted we keep our full costumes on, even after the performance.

Laughter and howling echoes in the distance, and I shoot my head up, starting to walk faster to follow the sound. They’re still in here.

After a minute, though, the sounds die out, and I stop, straining to hear where my sister and friends might be.

“Ari?” I call.

But I’m all alone.

I step timidly down the path, coming to an open plot of green with a big fountain in the middle. The space is about twice the size of my bedroom, surrounded by tall cypresses with three other pathways leading off from the big, open area. Is this the center of the maze?

The fountain is massive with a gray stone bowl at the bottom and a smaller one on top. Water shoots from the spouts, filling the upper bowl and pouring down like thick waterfalls into the lower one. It creates the prettiest sound. Like roaring rapids. So peaceful.

But not looking where I’m going, I crash into someone and stumble backward. A woman’s arms rise with her palms up and away from me as if I’m dirty and she doesn’t want to touch me.

I see Madame’s surprised eyes soften with her smile, her body graceful and fluid like this is a theater, and she’s always on stage.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Her voice is drenched in sweetness. “Are you having fun?”

I step back and drop my eyes, nodding.

“Have you seen my son?” she asks. “He loves parties, and I don’t want him to miss this.”

&n

bsp; He loves parties? I dig in my eyebrows, confused. His father doesn’t seem to agree.

I’m about to tell her ‘no’, but then something to my right catches my attention, and I look over, thinning my eyes at the dark form.

The dark form inside the fountain.

It sits behind the water in the bottom bowl, almost entirely hidden.

Damon. Their son who was just getting yelled at upstairs.

I pause for a moment, the lie coming out before I can stop it. “No.” I shake my head. “No, I haven’t seen him, Madame. I’m sorry.”

I don’t know why I don’t tell her he’s right there, but after the way his dad just shouted at him, I guess he looks like he wants to be left alone.

I avoid Madame’s eyes like she’ll be able to tell I’m lying, and instead, stare straight ahead. Her black dress flows to mid-calf, glittering with little jewels and pearls as the top hugs her slender body and the bottom sways as she moves. Her long, black hair drapes down her back, as straight and shimmering as a cool stream of water.

I never hear my mom say anything nice about her, but while people are afraid of her, they are definitely nice to her face. She doesn’t look much older than my babysitter, but she has a kid older than me.

Without saying anything, she glides around me and walks toward the entrance, while I stay still for a moment, wondering if I should follow and just leave, too.

But I don’t.

I know he probably doesn’t want to see anyone, but I kind of feel bad that he’s alone.

Slowly, I inch toward the fountain.

Peering through the streams of the water pouring down, I try to make him out as he quietly hides. Arms clad in a black suit coat, resting on his knees, and dark hair hanging over his eyes and sticking to his porcelain cheekbones.