Page 46 of Flock This

“Help me,” the woman said, her long nails digging into my skin. It took me a moment to recognize her as the first woman I’d seen in the cells, the one clawing at her own arms.

I tried to yank away, but her grip wouldn’t loosen, her nails gouging into my arm. “I can’t do anything for you.”

“Kill me,” she begged, then repeated the words over and over again until it seemed she didn’t even realize I was there anymore. It showed the pain, what this addiction could do to a person. It made that bond Roger had acted like was so wonderful was nothing more than parasitic to the human.

I took her distraction and pulled hard, extracting my arm from her grasp. Even then, she’d tried to hold on, leaving deep cuts down my arm. I didn’t wait around to survey the damage, instead taking off at a run, keeping to the opposite wall to avoid a repeat. I reached the dead end and turned the way Roger had told me to, arriving at the elevator.

The inside was different from the others I’d seen, this one reminding me of a freight elevator. That made sense, really, since this seemed to be used for staff. Heavy blankets hung on the sides, making me think they also used it when moving furniture and goods. A large rolling tray rested inside, against the wall.

The doors closed and the elevator started to move. It would have been a good sign, other than I hadn’t hit a button yet.

Which meant someone had called it.

I looked around the large space, then rushed for where the rolling tray was. I slid behind it, then pressed myself into the space behind the hanging blankets. The hiding spot wasn’t fantastic, and if anyone was really looking for me, they’d find me. However, for a quick glance, it was the best I could do.

The elevator shuddered to a stop, but I wasn’t sure what floor it was. The doors opened, and heavy steps echoed.

“What were you expecting?” one voice asked.

“I don’t know—just something? I mean, changes in leadership are supposed to mean changes in general right?”

“You’re hoping for too much. Every family is just different teeth of the same mouth. They’ll all do the same things.”

The two men spoke, mid-conversation, but I couldn’t glance out to see either of them. I could smell something sweet, telling me they were likely vampires rather than thralls.

It had me trying to breathe as lightly and slowly as possible, hoping not to draw any attention to myself.

Getting caught now would just be rude, honestly. After working so hard to find what was going on, after dealing with Kelvin and the other assholes here, I’d get caught in a fucking elevator?

Embarrassing.

“Do you smell that?” one of the two said, his voice dropping an octave.

A deep, noisy inhalation said the other checked before a low rumble echoed through the elevator. “Blood…”

I covered my arm with my other hand, the wetness showing that, yep, still bleeding. Damn crazy thrall.

“Did someone leave something on the tray?” The tray was yanked away from the wall, the wheels loud. “There’s a streak of blood here. Stupid thralls, not cleaning things properly.”

The elevator came to a stop, and the two left, still complaining about the blood. I sagged against the wall, the scent of the blankets covering the wall and myself thick as I breathed deeply.

A slow clap started, the sound distinct and mocking. I had a bad feeling about this…

I forced myself to shift the blanket and peer out to find pretty much what I figured.

A very unhappy looking Kelvin continuing his slow clap.

I might have preferred the hungry vampires to this…

Chapter Thirteen

I hated to admit it, but Kelvin looked pretty damn good when he was pissed. Some men couldn’t pull it off, but Kelvin?

He still looked totally in control, but a tightness around his mouth showed his displeasure.

And my crow soaked in that disapproval like it was a mud bath.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said as I moved out of my little hiding place and into the center of the elevator.

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