Page 98 of Scorned

Frustration filled me, sending anger pouring out of my mouth. “She was about to cut into you. Think about all the shit that you went through and drink the fucking blood!”

Luka’s eyes met mine, locking onto them as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Each breath he took came harder, faster, before the tiny veins of his face came alive, rippling beneath his skin.

His mouth fell open and he sucked in an angry breath, letting it out in a hiss. It was hard to witness the hungry desperation he had when his fangs throbbed like they were begging for food. I pushed the doc’s wrist against his mouth and he didn’t hesitate to pierce her skin.

Assuring he didn’t overfeed and go into bloodlust, I once again counted the seconds in my head. Each gulp he took brought life back into him. The dark circle under his eyes faded away and his pale skin regained its color. Another few gulps and his ribs weren’t as sharp and protruding as they previously were.

Once I got to thirty seconds, I pulled the doc’s wrist away, letting her dead body tumble to the floor, splattering even more blood on my boots and now my pants.

A growl vibrated in Luka’s throat, and I knew it was from starvation, not him being angry at me.

I laid my hand across his chest, right on his goat skull tattoo, and rubbed my thumb across his cold skin. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

After a few ragged breaths, the veins in his face slowly stopped pulsing. “Fucking kiss me,” he whisper yelled, the relief his voice conveyed making it hard to deny him.

Standing on my tippy toes, I smashed a quick kiss against his lips. Unfortunately, time was important, so I pulled back and wiped the doctor’s blood from my mouth.

Gross.

Finally safe to free him, I looked at the cuffs, not knowing where or what to touch without injuring him further, or possibly myself.

“Luka, how do I get these off?”

“The computer. Dr. Cuntface controlled the lengths of the spikes for my wrists and the table from some kind of software.”

What the fuck?

Knowing she had the power to control how much pain Luka felt ignited a fire within me, and I wished I had a shot at killing “Dr. Cuntface” a second time, I’d make the pain last longer.

I headed toward the laptop and clicked the enter button to bring it out of sleep mode.

“Shit. It’s password protected.” Turning my head toward Luka, he had a look of contemplation.

“Try Venezuela. It’s where she was going to retire. But all caps. She once told me she hated small letters.”

What a fucking psychopath, I thought as I typed V E N, then second-guessed myself on the proper spelling of a word I rarely used.

“How the hell do you spell it?”

“V. E. N—”

The security alarms sounded and a red light in the upper right corner of the room flashed, sending panic coursing through my body.

“Hurry!”

“E. Z. U. E. L. A.”

I finished typing, hit enter, and hoped for the best.

It unlocked and I was relieved for a split second until I remembered how much I suck at computers.

There were multiple programs and spreadsheets already open, and I had no idea what any of them were. I clicked on a few different ones with no luck. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here!”

Gunshots rang through the hallway and whomever was out there would be here any second. I swiftly swiped the blade off the ground and hid behind the door, which remained ajar due to the dead guard.

The person’s shadow cascaded across the marble floor before they entered the room. I lunged forward with my blade held high, and Winnie grabbed my wrists, halting me.

“Easy, killer.”

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