Page 86 of Vicious Saint
This is the first time I’ve felt Saint breathe in minutes, and although it takes a few more, he releases Lance.
Making it so much harder to comprehend any of this.
The charming hatred—wanton aggression—especially the hollowing out. Don’t even get me started on Theory’s weird ass request. The room is already lit for fucks sake.
Saint is deathly still as Theory taps my shoulder.
She smiles, but there’s remorse in it as she beckons me with an outstretched hand. By instinct I take it, uncaring that mine are stained red.
When she helps settle me on my heels, I find Archer standing in the doorway, the look of disappointment and horror plastered across his face.
“I-I need you to g-go, Hendrix.” Theory squeezes my shoulder, whispering, “And p-please, don’t tell anyone about this.”
I shake my head vigorously.
Saint cannot get away with nearly killing someone.
Glancing over at the man, or animal, in question, with his back to me, I take in the calmness of his body. The return of steady breaths.
My throat is dry as I remove my heels and toss them, taking slow backwards steps over to Archer, who immediately steps in front of me like a human shield.
But…says nothing.
“Archer,” I call out to him, voice low and shaky, “we need to do something.”
He shakes his head.
As if anything more will draw too much attention.
Saint stares down at his blood covered hands, examining and flexing his joints as Theory pads over in her pajamas to kneel at his side.
Fear squeezes me tighter than Archer’s hold on my arm as I watch her mumble something to Saint, resulting in his shoulders tensing and head turning to face me.
As expected, his eyes are devoid of the light that tends to blind me. And his face is filled with so much blood I’d think he pulled a Hannibal Lector.
I stay rooted in place when Saint tilts his head…as if debating whether or not he wants to eat me too. It’s horrifying, unhuman-like, and at this moment I’m considering he may not be.
Does it sound nuts? Obviously.
But as I take in the sight of a blank face and dead eyes, it may be more insane to consider Saint one of us.
I’m fighting two urges: one being to help Lance, and the other to turn and run before Saint rips off a chunk of my flesh with his teeth.
A door slamming in the hall makes both Archer and I jump, but Saint doesn’t even react as he goes back to glaring at the limp body in front of him.
“Saint! Theory!” Vic’s voice bellows out in the hallway, but Archer still refuses to move and stops me when I try to.
Theory begins to panic as Vic’s hollering grows closer, tugging at her brother’s arm and begging him to leave. It takes a few more of her pleas before Saint rises and wipes blood off his cheek with the back of his equally bloody hand.
With the same lifeless expression, Saint walks off with mechanical strides, heading straight for where we’re standing beside the door. Archer steps us out of the way, and I swallow hard when Saint passes, then again when Theory mouths another plea for me to not say anything.
I hate the idea of staying silent, but morality is the last thing on my mind after witnessing the atrocity I just did. Especially since I’m now bound to the person who committed it.
I mean…a stun gun to the kidney seems like child’s play after this.
“Holy shit, Arch!” I whisper-yell when I hear Saint and Theory exit the suite. “Did I really just watch Saint do that?”
Archer finally speaks, hushed even though we’re semi alone. “I told you he can be dangerous at times.”
