She stepped out wearing a lovely summer dress—gold and green (the green matched her eyes) and patterns in black (to match her heart).
“Well, isn’t this a nice little get-together?” Risky said pleasantly.
Mack was screaming incoherently in the trap at her feet. The Destroyer loomed behind her, ready to do her bidding.
Stefan ran straight at her. Risky looked annoyed, flicked her finger, and sent Stefan flying backward to crash beside Camaro Angianelli.
Risky knelt and with a puckish smile that showed off her excellent teeth tapped on the mailbox. “Is that you, Mack?”
Mack stopped screaming.
“It must be getting stuffy in there,” Risky said. “Are you getting enough air?”
“You know he’s not, you evil witch,” Jarrah snapped.
“Oh, I know,” Risky said, and her smile was feral now. “He’s more frightened than he’s ever been in his life. He can’t control himself. He’s like a mad beast in there.”
“Let him go!” Sylvie demanded.
“Hmm. Short, aren’t you?” Risky said, giving Sylvie the once-over. She stood all the way up, rested one foot on the mailbox, and said, “There are only ten of you now that Mack is . . . preoccupied. And ten of you don’t have the power to defeat me. Especially not without your leader. No, without Mack you have less than half the power you have with him. Did you know that? He’s the greatest of you. You’re all just . . . accessories.”
“I’ll accessorize you!” Camaro yelled, and lashed out at Risky with a kick. She actually managed to kick Risky in the knee.
“Ow! That hurt!” Risky yelled angrily. “Destroyer! Take her! Then . . . take her apart!”
The Destroyer moved swiftly to grab Camaro around the waist. Camaro didn’t scream or struggle.
r /> “Now, let’s get down to business,” Risky said. “It’s hard work ruling the world. It’s hard and lonely work. I think it’s the loneliness that made my mother so cranky. Well, that plus the whole evil thing. But loneliness, too. I don’t want to end up like her. I want a consort.”
“A concert?” Charlie asked.
“A consort. Consort. A partner. A henchman. A partner in crime. A—”
“Boyfriend?” Xiao asked incredulously.
The Destroyer drew Camaro close. It tightened its grip around her waist, and Camaro let out an involuntary cry. She put her arms around the monster’s neck and seemed to be trying to choke him back. Useless, of course: you can’t choke a Destroyer. You just can’t.
“Long ago I found someone,” Risky said wistfully. “His name was Gil. He worshipped me, and I did not eat him or dismember him or set him on fire. No, we were close, me and Gil.”
Risky sighed heavily. “But Mother scared him off. He was devastated by losing me. He went on to be a warrior and ended up starring in some epic, but the point is he never got over me. He loved me. I could see it in his eyes. Just as I can see it in Mack’s eyes when he looks at me.”
“You are insane,” Sylvie said matter-of-factly as the Destroyer drew Camaro ever closer, probably preparing to bite her head off.
Risky sat on the mailbox and crossed her legs and looked very smug and in charge. “Join me, Mack. Swear true faith and allegiance to me, and I will set you free.”
Mack was no longer screaming. But he was gasping for breath, panting and wheezing in abject terror.
“The next step is digging a hole and burying you,” Risky said. She winked at the others as if this was a flirtatious little joke.
“Nooooooooo!” Mack cried.
“Join me, Mack,” Risky crooned. “Join me.”
“Noooooo. N-n-n-n-no. No. NO. I. WILL. NOT!”
Stefan had been readying another futile charge. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Stefan had been with Mack from the beginning. No one knew more about Mack’s phobias. No one had seen more of Mack’s meltdowns. No one except for Mack himself had a clearer understanding of the sheer terror Mack was suffering.