But Les was stronger, and he got the upper hand with ease, sending me to the dusty carpet with an oof, the air in my lungs pushing out and momentarily winding me. It was enough time for Les to wrestle me flat and straddle me, sitting on my stomach with his full weight. The fabric of his jeans scratched against my midriff as I squirmed.
“I might not have a dick to fuck you with anymore, but I’m going to make this fucking hurt,” he promised, spittle flying.
“Les!” Gabe chastised. “We don’t have time for you to finger fuck her, get on with it.”
I gulped back a cry, squeezing my legs together when Les ignored Gabe and tried to pry my thighs apart. I kicked my knees up, desperate to buck him off me. He wasn’t a big man, and I was so full of fury. I got my hands free and clawed at his face, digging my fingers into his eyeballs.
An old trick at this point. Me and mutilated eyes.
He screamed and fell, collapsing forward so I could twist him round, slam him to the floor, and straddle him right back. I think the hit to the head dazed him because he didn’t retaliate right away; he looked starry-eyed, his mouth lolling open. Good.
I breathed in, once, twice, then pushed my fingers into his eye sockets until they popped. His scream was fierce, manic, desperate, his hands flying up to try to stop me. But nothing could. Nothing would. If this were the last of my tormentors I could end, I was going to make it count.
Another man who could never look at me again.
Pulling my thumbs from his eye sockets made me gag, but his whimper, the pathetic way he tried to push me off with weak arms, kept me focused. I leaned down, so we were almost nose to nose, and stared into those bloody messes that used to be his eyes. Just sockets full of gore, mush. It made me smile.
All the things he’d called me, claimed I was.
My teeth piercing through his neck was harder than with his dick. There was more sinew, muscle, veins to get through. More blood gushing, more fight. I wasn’t a vampire; I didn’t have sharp canines; I had to bite down hard. Like biting through a boiled sweet or a frozen carrot. My jaw ached and my teeth strained, but I kept going. He called me a cannibal; he was getting one.
I got there.
I used my teeth to kill him. Even when the last ebbs of his fight crept away, his arms growing ever slacker, his pulse slowing from a gush to an unsteady bleed out. Even when there was nothing more. I clung on until he was definitely dead.
Then I ripped out his throat, rearing back and spitting it all out onto his lifeless body. My heart pounded, feeling both free and close to attack with how much adrenaline rushed through me. Another one down.
Blood coated me. Les lay dead between my legs.
Gabe laughed.
Twenty-Eight
Violet
Astarkwhitedressmarredwith red, blood dripping down the front of my body, coating my chin and chest, streaming down my arms. I rolled my neck as I took another step forward.
Gabe didn’t wash me, hardly spared me or dead Les a glance, just shoved the dress over my head while I winced and spluttered, tried not to glance at the mauled figure by our feet… my monster had burst free again, determined to put the man in his place in the most brutal way possible.
What would Theo think of me? He’d relish it, love on me, I hoped. But there was a niggle, one that told me I’d gone too far in using my teeth… In the biting and ripping, the animalistic nature of it…
Gabe then moved away from me, gesturing for me to follow him, face still bland. No shoes, no underwear. No words.
I let him move me like a puppet, my steps stumbling as I followed behind him, bewildered. Lost. Another part of the house I didn’t recognize despite the months I had spent living in it.
As the door slammed shut, Gabe’s fingers wrapped around my bicep and he squeezed, fingernails digging into my skin. My mind flashed again to the memories of his kindness, but within them, his face warped into a demon, horns and a snarl. I wasn’t able to blink the images away.
“I need you to look at this before we go any further,” he said, presenting me his phone, aiming the screen so I could see. I looked, curious to see what he was going to show me. Despite everything he’d proven of himself, my body still trusted him a tiny bit, an instinctive memory of the food and care he’d shown, the familiarity of relaxing - just a smidge - in his presence.
I relaxed, just a fraction, but as soon as I realized I stiffened back up, trying to focus on the images before me. Gabe’s meaty fingers curled around his device all possessive, like he thought I might snatch it. I blinked the screen into focus.
At first, it took me a minute to place the room on the screen. It was video footage of my old bedroom here. And my bed wasn’t empty. My brow furrowed, but there was no surprise to be found.
Of course.
Margaret sat on the well-made sheets, her legs crossed and her back leaned against the headboard. She didn’t appear unhappy at all. She looked at peace. Like that was right where she wanted to be. Crazy bitch. What had she done? Run off into the night and immediately called Rafe’s men to come kill us all? Told them where we were? Or maybe it was somehow planned all along.
“Is this now?” I questioned, not turning away from my happy and content looking troll of a sister.
