Page 81 of Deadly Cravings

I slowly blinked as I took in the blood smeared across my skin. The punctures on my lower abdomen and my nipple trickling blood from them. Ren hadn’t made the effort to close the marks.

That was howthatvampire was. The one I feared. He left me open to bleed sometimes, it was worse when he first caught me. The thick lines of blood going up the sides of my torso.

Ren dragged the tip of his fingers over the red liquid, spreading it over my skin until his hand was playing in blood across my stomach.

He groaned and shuddered at the sight.

Ren gripped the back of my neck and yanked up in a sharp tug. He bit my throat and fed... and fed. Taking from me as much as he could.

My sight became fuzzy and I became lightheaded as I struggled sucking in a breath. My chest squeezed painfully.

I went limp against him and then blacked out.

It felt like a moment,but it had to be longer. I coughed, sputtering against the wrist pressed to my mouth. I lifted my eyelids, pulling against the hold on the back of my head forcing me to remain in place. Soreness spread though my neck and I moved to stretch, but he hissed and I automatically stilled. I stared into his pensive expression, unable to do anything other than breathe as my mouth overfilled.

“Keep swallowing.”

I whimpered at his order and did as he bade. It was too much.

Pressure mounted in my stomach. This was too much—it hurt. I whimpered, blood overflowing the corners of my mouth and trickling down my chin.

He kept me in the same position for longer than I could determine. I drank from him as I stared into his increasingly stiff expression. There was no need to force me to drink this much, nor to be so damn aggressive with my neck. I huffed from my nose, glaring at him over his wrist as my stomach rebelled.

I thrashed in his grip until he released me. He must have seen the desperation in my eyes. Tossing myself off his lap, I landed on my hands and knees. My stomach churned and I gagged, blood dripping off my chin.

The droplet on my chest rolled slowly downward, thicker and darker red. I fisted my hands, aching to rail at him for doing that.

Was he trying to drown me?Chains rattled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, lips pressed tightly together. Why did he seem so obnoxiously smug?

Ren’s head canted and he reached for me, but I lurched back before his fingers touched me.

I backed into the corner of the room, the farthest corner I could get from him. The chains rattled as he stood, the light from the beam reflecting off the shackles as he stretched. He seemed... especially energized. I was sure that only meant I was in that much more danger.

THIRTY-FIVE

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Ren gaveme his back and looked at the chains attached to the wall, studying them carefully.

“Break the camera,” he ordered, his back still to me. “Hurry up.”

I found the camera in one sweep of the room. In the top corner, a round lens faced us. It took a few attempts of jumping to grab onto it, but I finally hooked both arms around the plastic. The perch holding it up bent under my efforts and I managed to yank it off. I slammed it into the floor and pieces scattered.

As soon as it was crushed on the floor, he wrapped his hands around the metal attached around his neck and jerked it once. The silver pressed against his skin and it hissed. Letting it go, he focused his efforts on the long chain attaching him to the wall. He set his boot against where it was securely bolted and strained. A hiss echoed and steam lifted on his hands where he held the chains.

A shrill screech rent the room and my eyes widened as the square of bolted-down material peeled off.

My mouth dropped.

Well, then. Vampires were strong, but God damn.

He reached for the chains attached to the shackles of his wrists and did the same, but he was able to rupture the link so there was less of it hanging off the end. The other wrist followed suit and then he was free. Burns coated his hands; a thin layer had been seared off.

In a few strides, he was at the door, eyes studying the metal encased entrance. He slammed the flat of his foot into it repeatedly, but it held up. Ren took a ragged breath. The scent of burned flesh seared my nose and blisters erupted on Ren’s arms from where the flailing chains rested against his skin. Winding his leg back, Ren angled his shot toward the hinges, and the slab bent.

He was a psycho, yes. And terrifying.

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