Page 38 of Blood Lust

Townie?

A memory slips into my mind. I am standing in an aisle, plucking a box from the shelf, when I see Oz’s face. Startled, I drop my item, and he returns it to me. Sparks fly between us, and I want him. I want him even before I know him. We are going to connect. We lose ourselves in each other, in the strange feeling of yearning that captures us both before Spencer comes.

“I didn’t come all the way out to this god-forsaken hell hole to watch my girl eye fuck some townie!”

My human is now trying to tug my pants down, growing frustrated with the difficulty.

However, I am too busy dealing with swimming images to pay him much attention. Visions of the road looming before us. Of a speed that was much too fast. Of me crying and begging him to slow down. His refusal, and his use of the car to intimidate me. His hand, tight around my neck. The road again, I feel worthless, I feel like nothing.

“SPENCER, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!”

Then, the accident.

Waking up alone.

My fight to get free.

Drowning.

Everything starts to move in reverse.

I see the sadness in me before we take our trip.

I feel the hatred I carry beside my love for him. I can feel the sharp sting of his palm strike my face. Flashes of the bruises past, long sleeves, make up, excuses. I feel the fear he drives into me. I can hear the sounds of all of his berating. All of his insults. The months of trying to fix something long since broken.

The faces of my parents swim into view. The love, the family. Dinners, errands, and helping my mom with her daycare. Creating fun activities for the kids in the summer. College, high school, all of it. It is all back, and it is all mine.

The person I am slams back into me harder than the car hit the rocks.

Spencer Brown.

My ex.

The reason I was so upset that night.

I don’t know how he is here. All I know is that the pure rage and despair that had filled me twelve days ago creeps into my heart again.

White hot and seething, the desire to annihilate him enters me. The blood lust screams to be satisfied. I can hear the other Wren, and she is pacing inside of me, wild and completely feral. She wants to rip him. Tear him. She wants to consume his life as her prize. He is so vulnerable.

Spencer’s frustration that my pants are too tight to pull down easily grows, and he looks into my eyes with that same look he used to have. He despises me. He will tell me if given half a chance, and it will be my fault again.

I hate him.

“Let me destroy him.” The blood lust is whispering to me.

No.

I try to fight her.

But she is much too strong, and she takes control anyway.

Snarls and growls escape me as I launch my mouth back onto Spencer’s neck. I use my strength to change our positions, pinning him onto the couch. My teeth clack together as I unskillfully devour him.

I am ripping, and tearing. His flesh mangles in my mouth. Spencer is screaming. His hands are clutching me to him instead of pushing me away, his brain has not caught up with what is happening. I hear banging on the door, but it does nothing to deter me.

MINE.

I drink his blood and continue tearing at his throat, the pounding grows louder, and the door is kicked in a moment later. Charlee stands there in shock.

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