Page 15 of Bloodlust

“Is that so?” I tilt my head, giving him a defiant look. “How fascinating.”

His expression darkens momentarily. “It is.” His gaze flickers around my face. “Due to their inability to use audible sounds to communicate anger—” he pauses, a slight smirk, “—orotheremotions, they solely express themselves physically.”

“It would seem to me that expressing emotions verbally is useless then,” I muse, raising a challenging brow. “Seeing as they’re at the top of the food chain.”

“I’ve swam with sharks, Miss Bianco.” Dr. Malcolm smiles, letting out a soft laugh. “And you are not a shark.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that assertion.” I take a step closer to him, fist clenched. “I could make your sharks look like fucking koi fish.”

“Careful now,” he rasps, a smug timbre to his tone as he turns on his heel to walk away. “You’ll make yourself bleed again.” He stops, craning his head over his shoulder as he adds, “Sharks smell blood, remember?”

My jaw clenches. “Are you threatening me, Dr. Malcolm?”

“It’s not a threat, Miss Bianco,” he says. “It’s an opportunity.”

I glare at him. “An opportunity?”

“You know where to find me, Miss Bianco.” He shrugs. “If you ever wish to become a real shark.”

My curiosity gets the better of me as I ask, “And what’s in it for you? Why do you care?”

Dr. Malcolm smirks. “Only one way to find out.”

“I think I’ll pass,” I state, intrigued by his game but not enough to press for more information. I don’t have the time to play head doctor. “But thanks for the offer.”

“If you change your mind, my door is open,” he says. “Figuratively speaking, of course.” He tosses me a grin. “You still need to knock.”

Like Maeve, I too have a sixth sense. I too am a shark.

I can sense trouble.

I can sense danger.

And this mystery of a man is bound to be dangerous.

One way or another.

Chapter 5

Arctic

The devil works hard but Zoella Di Rossi works harder.

I have to hand it to the girl; she sure knows how to make herself invaluable. Having a hacker at my disposal is highly beneficial, but sometimes I think it's a waste of natural talent. She shouldn't have dropped out of MIT, but I get why she did it. And honestly? I can't blame her.

Once a place is tainted with betrayal and pain, it's hard to return. She couldn't walk those halls anymore. Be in that place. Too many memories. Too many whispers. Too many triggers.

Even though I took care of it, she couldn't go back. The damage was done. It's a shame though. She could've been somebody. She could've done something important. Something that she was passionate about. Maybe she still can. Her scars might fade completely. And she'll forget. She could be one of the lucky ones.

Someone has to be.

I'm lucky in a different way. I get to reap the benefits of her suffering. I don't like it, but it is what it is. That's what I tell myself.

That's what my father told me.

People are like rags, Camilla. Use them to keep your house clean, and when the rag becomes dirty and full of holes, throw it out.

My father threw out a lot of rags. Too many to count.

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