Page 75 of Craving Venom
It would be so easy to forget who he is.
But I know better.
I shake my head hard, trying to snap myself out of it. He’s a criminal. A goddamn criminal. No matter how good he looks, no matter how my stomach twists every time I see his face, he’s dangerous.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Turning on my heel, I storm out of the mirror room. The second I hit the open air, I yank off my stupid angel wings and chuck them straight into the nearest trash can.
I don’t even know why I’m so mad.
I just am.
Maybe it’s this whole haunted house. Maybe it’s the tricks and illusions. Maybe it’s the way my brain keeps trying to make mewantsomething I absolutely should not fucking want.
Either way, I’m done.
I just need to get home.
I push through the crowd, making a beeline for the exit, but before I can reach it, someone steps into my path.
“The girl you were with,” a voice says. “She’s stuck in the Shadow Room.”
It’s the bartender. The one from earlier.
“She’s asking for help,” he adds, eyes flicking to mine like he’s waiting for a reaction.
Andfuckdo I react.
My stomach drops.
“Shit,” I mutter, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Where?”
He gestures toward a hallway to the left. I barely manage to thank him before I’m practically running in the direction he pointed.
The Shadow Room. What the fuck is a Shadow Room?
I don’t stop to question it. I just grab the handle of the heavy-ass door, yank it open, and step inside. The second it shuts behind me, I regret everything.
“Tria?” I call, my voice bouncing off the walls.
Nothing.
Suddenly, at least twenty blinking lights overhead flicker on and begin to move. I snap my head up, tracking their dizzying patterns, until all of them go out—except one.
A single spotlight burns in the center of the room, and when my gaze finally lands on what it’s illuminating, my foot slips. I catch myself before I can fall, but my heart pounds against my ribs, becauseholy shit.
Zane.
He’s sitting in a massive armchair, but that’s not what grabs my attention.
It’s the knife he’s holding.
The silver glints under the light and it’s resting so casually in his grip it’s like it belongs there.
Like it’s an extension of him.
His gaze lifts slowly and locks onto mine.
