Page 71 of Blood Lust

Our body is still. I can feel her reaching out to me, seeking comfort. We are going to work together to get out of here. She needs my reason, and I need her ruthlessness. Together we will make sure we get this fucker. One way or another, he will feel pain at our hand.

Leland’s blank expression unsettles me as his head falls from his shoulders. Emerson doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t need to, he thinks he won. He may have achieved one of his goals, but I am damn sure going to ruin the rest. With my help, the other Wren whispers to me. Yes. This will take everything we have, but we can do it.

CHAPTER 22

THE SONGBIRD

Leaving us with our coven leader’s dead body for who knows how long, is meant to hurt us. Eying the blood that pools from the gaping wound in his neck before making its way down the drain makes us drool. I can feel hunger taking hold. I haven’t eaten in two days unless you count munching on Oz when things get frisky. No, a larger amount of blood is what I need. Vampire blood will work if I can just get it.

If the chair wasn’t bolted down, I would knock it over just to get a taste.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you would accept me.

Other Wren is trying to make a point. I’ve been fighting her for so long, but here I am, relying on her strength. Sure, I’ve been ‘trying’ to merge us the way we should be, but if I am being honest, I could’ve tried harder. Part of me is afraid to let her in, to lose that level of control.

I’ve lost it anyway.

Sensing my agreement and apprehension, I can feel her almost soften towards me. I am not the enemy. I am you. We are one soul separated and will not be our strongest until we are united.

Everything is right.

So why can’t we merge now?

I want to. She wants to.

We are stuck.

I worry that the raw unstoppable urge to kill, rip, and destroy– the one that consumed me on my first several feedings. Will it worm its way back to the surface and take control of me?

It’s your fear.

My fear is what is stopping us?

Well, we are royally fucked then. I can’t just make my fear of losing control go away. I’ve killed far too many people and don’t want to be a murderer anymore.

With me, you will have that control. We don’t have to kill.

Everything I’ve seen so far tells me otherwise.

A pit forms in my stomach. I don’t like where this is going, and it won’t get us any closer to merging. If we can’t do that, then we need to plan. We need to come up with some other way to get out. We can’t just rely on me clinging to the darkest parts of my soul.

He’s going to torture us.

I shudder, remembering the bare description Oz gave me. I can only imagine what Emerson has planned for me.

Oz will be here soon. I know it. We can make it out of here.

You’re weak.

Excuse the fuck out of me?

You think this darkness is to be feared, that it is evil, but it’s your fault we can’t stop ourselves when we feed. I need you to keep me grounded, and if you don’t merge, we will just keep killing. It doesn’t bother me, but if it bothers you and you won’t do what you must to stop it, you’re weak.

I ignore her. I am done with this conversation.

Our arms are sore from being locked behind us all day, the thirst is taking over, and I am arguing with myself.

I don’t see how the fuck we are going to make it until Oz gets here.

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