Page 60 of Vicious Luna

Sloane’s brows shoot up in surprise.

“He deserves a taste of his own medicine, anyways,” I add, flipping my hair back with a smirk. “We can see if he’ll help up with the hunters, but until then, this stays between us. I’ve got a little bit of my own justice to dole out first.”

“You’re diabolical,” Tristan muses, shaking his head with a low chuckle. The smirk on his lips reminds me so much of his sister Sloane. “Glad to see captivity didn’t put out that fire in you.”

“Quite the contrary,” I cluck. “Being locked in a cage for weeks only made me meaner.” My lips curve into a grin and I snap my teeth at him teasingly.

“Alright, so what’s the plan, then?” Madd sighs, reluctantly yielding his ground and turning it over to me.

My grin widens as I turn to face my brother. “I’m so glad you asked.”

29

“Hey, beastie,” I announce gleefully as I enter the holding cell below the squad complex, finding Cam sitting in the same spot against the wall as when I left him to attend the meeting. I haven’t been gone all that long, but it seems he hasn’t even worked up the effort to move a fraction of an inch. Guess the big bad hunter isn’t so tough now that he’s the one under lock and key.

He lifts his head to shoot me a glare in response to my greeting, but he doesn’t fire off any verbal retort. Not gonna lie, it’s a little disappointing. I was looking forward to giving him hell with this role reversal, but that requires him playing along, not giving me the silent treatment.

“Aren’t you going to call me ‘warden’ now?” I ask, clucking my tongue as I tilt my head to the side mockingly. “I thought that was our bit.”

Cam makes a scoffing sound in his throat, but again, he doesn’t reply. He seems committed to this act of quiet resignation.

I lean a shoulder against the doorframe, studying him for a long moment. The man in this cell is a far cry from thearrogant, entitled bastard I’ve had to endure for the past two weeks. His bruises are healing, but a crust of dried blood still coats his skin, telling of his torture. His eyes are vacant, his body slumped against the wall. I hate that I feel bad for him, but I can’t help it. The dude looks pathetic.

“Door’s wide open, aren’t you gonna try to rush me and escape?” I taunt, deliberately trying to push his buttons and ignite his spark.

“Don’t have anywhere to go,” he mutters.

“Aw, c’mon,” I coax. “This is no fun if you’re a willing captive.”

Cam tips his head back to rest against the cinderblock wall, heaving a sigh. “It is what it is.”

I frown, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Getting under Cam’s skin has always been effortless, but now he’s like a broken wind-up toy, seemingly impervious to my efforts to rile him.

Guess I’ll just have to try harder.

“I brought you something,” I announce, backing into the hall to grab the ten-gallon bucket I left just out of sight. Picking it up, I step back into the doorway, tossing it toward him.

The plastic bucket bounces noisily against the floor, upending onto its side and rolling across the room in his direction. He eyes it as it rolls to a stop, scrunching his nose in distaste before his gaze pings back up to meet mine. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest and lifting my chin. “You threatenedmewith pissing in a bucket.”

He averts his gaze. “I never actually made you do it, though,” he mumbles.

“I suppose that’s true. But I figured you’d prefer a bucket, since you’ve got that weird pee fetish and all.”

His eyes snap up, jaw clenching.

Got him.

“I don’t have a pee fetish,” he grinds out, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

I roll my eyes, flipping my long hair over a shoulder. “Sureyou don’t,” I reply sarcastically, winking. “Well c’mon, then, if you don’t want to use the bucket, I’ll take you up to the locker room.”

Cam glowers at me for a full minute before he finally moves to push up from the floor, grunting with the effort of maneuvering his stiff limbs. He stretches his arms over his head and it’s embarrassing how quickly my gaze drops to catch a glimpse of his lower abs when his shirt rides up- even more so when my pulse immediately kicks up a notch.

Keep your head in the game, Avery.

“Do I need to cuff you, or are you gonna be a good boy?” I ask as he begins stalking toward me from across the cell. Not that I’ve actually got a pair of cuffs on me, but he doesn’t know that. Cam glowers harder and I grin in satisfaction, stepping back and gesturing for him to continue through the doorway. “After you.”

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