Page 90 of Wicked Little Nightmare

Bet we’ll fuck like rabbits after this.

"Here you go, darling," I chirped, tossing Cam the ties. "Want me to get the chair?"

He nodded, already securing the intruder's wrists with practiced ease. I dragged over our sturdiest dining chair, humming a cheery tune that clashed beautifully with the grunts and curses of our captive.

"Up you go, sweetheart," I cooed, helping Cam hoist the man into the seat. "There, all comfy cozy!”

Just as we finished securing our uninvited guest, a blur of movement caught my eye. Rose burst into the room like a feral cat, all claws and hissing fury. I blinked, not quite believing what I was seeing.

"Well, fuck me sideways," I muttered, watching as she vaulted over the coffee table with inhuman grace.

Her eyes were wild, locked onto the intruder. In one fluid motion, she grabbed my second favorite vase and swung it like a baseball bat, connecting with a sickening crunch against the man's jaw.

"Jesus Christ!" Cam exclaimed, jerking back. "Where the hell did that come from?"

I couldn't help but cackle, equal parts impressed and turned on by the unexpected violence. "Looks like our little flower has some thorns after all."

Rose stood there, chest heaving, vase dangling from her white-knuckled grip. The look in her eyes was familiar - the same feral gleam I saw in the mirror after a particularly satisfying kill.

"Well, well, well," I giggled. "Aren't you just full of surprises? Rose, I love what you did to his face, but you could have killed him. Also, not super impressed that now both my vases are broken."

She barely spared me a glance, her teeth bared as he looked her over. She did a number on him. The whole one side of his face was cut open and bleeding profusely. It was gonna be a frustrating clean, but at least she didn’t knock him unconscious.

Cam's eyes narrowed, his brain clearly processing what we just saw. "Time for a little chat, I think," he said, voice low and dangerous.

I cracked my knuckles, grinning at our captive. "Oh goody, I do so love our heart-to-hearts. Shall we start with who the fuck you are and why you're interrupting our beauty sleep?"

The intruder spat blood, glaring defiantly. "Go to hell, you psychotic bitch."

I tsked, wagging a finger. "Now, now. That's not very nice. Babe, perhaps our friend needs some motivation to be more... cooperative?"

Cam's answering smile was all teeth and promise of pain. "With pleasure, babe."

As his fist connected with the intruder's face again, I felt that familiar tingle of excitement. The crunch of bone, the spray of blood - it was better than any foreplay. This time he grunted as blood poured out of his nose, the bone sticking out at a funny angle.

"Let's try this again," I said, tapping my foot impatiently. "Who sent you?"

He coughed, spitting out a tooth. "Chimera," he gasped. "They want the girl back."

I sighed and rolled my eyes.Of course it was. Well. I suppose that’s slightly worse than if it was say, the pope. But then again, maybe the pope is Chimera. Maybe they’re all Chimera. Chimera. Chimera. Chimera. Fuuuuuck Chimera.

"Fuck," Cam muttered, echoing my thoughts. "How much time do we have?"

The intruder laughed, a wet, gurgling sound. "You don't. They're coming. And they won't stop until they have her."

I glanced at Rose, seeing the fear etched on her face. Before I could process it further, she lunged forward, her hand connecting with the intruder's face in a resounding slap.

"You bastard!" she screamed, eyes wild. "You were supposed to protect me, not drag me back to that place!"

I blinked, taken aback by her ferocity. "Well, now isn’t that interesting," I drawled, impressed despite myself. "Looks like someone's got some fight in her after all."

Rose whirled on us, her chest heaving. "You don't understand," she hissed. "Chimera... they'll never stop. I won't go back. I can't. This motherfucker was my ‘guard’. He kept me safe from the more… unstable patients. And yet here he is, trying to bring me back. Fuck. You."

The rage in her voice stirred something in me. I looked over at Cam, who was casually playing with his knife, seeing my own resolve mirrored there. Well, fuck me. Now we knew two things. Rose had some weird fucking ability to go from docile to full on offense with the flick of a switch. And whoever the fuck this guy was, he knew shit.

Shit that we want to know. If only tongues could talk without a mouth. Then we could just cut it out and put it in a jar to tell us it’s tales.

Cam's eyes narrowed, that murderous glint I knew all too well flashing across his face. He stalked towards the intruder, stopping just before him, eyeing him up and down.

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