Page 47 of Beautiful Prey

He did, and his lips curled, the scars creating a twisted smile.

“Good boy,” I cooed, sliding my fingers across his lips. Then I righted his mask.

The chains were gone, and he stood, towering over me. A long knife appeared on the tray, and he took it, gripping it tight.

I followed him back through the hall and the rooms were silent. The party was still alive, full of people.

Emery moved into the crowd and stabbed a man in the back. Then a woman.

One by one, he cut their throats and gutted them. He slashed and stabbed every person in the room, and I felt ecstasy at the sight. My insides tightened and warmed to each stroke of his blade.

It felt like hours or seconds had gone by and soon only bodies lay on the floor. Emery was bent over Jamie, and as he straightened, he looked to me, his golden eyes lit like twin flames.

Slowly, he faced me, and then stepped over the bodies, stalking like a predator toward me until he was only inches away.

My heart hammered as if I should scream and run, but all I did was smile at him.

He lifted his bloody blade and brushed the side of the knife across my throat tenderly. I gave him access as he trailed the blade across my skin. His other hand collared my throat, and he backed me into a wall, then lifted me.

“Happy birthday, Evee,” he whispered in my ear. He pressed his hips into me, and I ground against him until I was undone, coming and screaming.

I woke to the bed sheets around me, drenched in sweat and my body throbbing. I gasped at a shadow by the TV and nearly knocked the lamp off the dresser as I turned it on.

I panted, blinking away the dream, as the shadows disappeared. I bent forward and groaned, covering my face in my hands.

So much for a good night's sleep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“That’s it, just breathe,” I told Emery as I rubbed his back. His head was between his knees, his body trembling, the bucket at his feet.

He breathed in and out, his shoulders rising slowly. It had been the longest so far he had kept himself from getting sick, and I distracted him as best I could.

I usually waited closer to the end of our sessions to give him the meds, but this time, he said he wanted to try to get through it right away, determined now to fight through his reaction. Besides his slow breaths there was only the patter of rain on the window and the occasional voices from outside the room.

After several minutes of comforting Emery while he tried to rise through the panic attack, eventually he straightened, his hair damp with sweat.

“Fuck, that was terrible,” he groaned. “But I think I got it down this time, Evee.”

I smiled. “I think you did too.”

“Could use some water though; feels like someone poured dirt down my throat.”

I patted his shoulder. “I’ll get you some.” I took the empty cup and started for the door, then froze, frowning. Ethan was there, smiling at me.

“Go on, I’ll watch him,” he said from the door.

I hesitated, wanting to protest. I didn’t trust him being alone with Emery for one second.

“It’s cool,” he assured me. “I won’t move from this spot. He won’t talk to me anyway, right?”

He had a point. But that didn’t mean Emery wouldn’t listen. “I’ll be right back,” I said.

I went down past the nurse’s office to the kitchen and filled up the cup, noticing my hands shaking.

I was both excited and nervous. Emery was really trying; this was such a fast improvement. If he could keep the medication down after this, it would hopefully only get easier.

And when Dr. Hannah learned he was trying, she would have to let him stay.

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