Page 46 of Heathens

Whoever is in there is trying to control their breathing, but the smell of sweat-stained polyester gives them away completely. I’m shivering in anticipation, my mouth watering. It’s not just about the blood, it’s about the desire to rip and tear into flesh. I want to pull this person apart, sink my claws into their chest and bite into their still-beating heart.

If only I could share this feeling with Sofie.

I silently make my way into the room and around one side of the bed as Theo shuts the door, his bright yellow eyes shining ominously in the dark. They’re in here, but not simply waiting for the slaughter out in the open. I motion for him to look under the bed while I leap silently into the air and land on the mattress, letting it sink beneath my weight. A soft gasp slips out beneath me, barely perceptible under the squeaking springs, but Theo is already on all fours, crawling like an animal as he bares his fangs. I love to watch him hunt, it’s like watching an artist work.

“I can smell you,” he rumbles, his voice razor sharp, as I crouch down to get a closer view. “You should know by now that breaking into a vampire’s home isveryunwise.”

All I hear is a heart beat like a jackhammer. Theo looks up at me and grins before reaching under the bed.

“Got you.”

Everything goes wrong as something hits Theo’s throat, and he lets out a garbled growl. I’m right there to snatch the intruder’s wrist and wrench it upward, snapping his arm like a twig against the bed frame. A pained cry echoes through the room as a small dagger clatters onto the floor, covered in blood. Theo kicks it away before he staggers backward, holding his throat and gagging as he slams against the wall. Blood pours through his fingers as I drag the intruder out of the darkness and into the living room.

He’s young, maybe around 20 years old, pale, with a soft face and a bulbous little nose topped off with dark eyes and a head of dishwater blond hair. His breathing is heavy, spiked with little wheezes and groans as he drips with sweat. His broken right arm hangs limply at his side.

“Theo, you good?!”

“The fuck do you think?!” Theo stumbles out of the bedroom, blood dripping on the floor. “He’s one of Rene’s dogs. Got me right in the neck.”

“Yeah.” I hold the intruder against the wall and sneer at him. “I could smell cheap clothes and bullshit the second I stepped through the front door.”

I grasp his broken arm, pulling until I feel the bone fully disconnect.The shriek he lets out sends an excited shiver down my spine. I know that arm is only being held in place by the sleeve of his suit and a bit of skin. One more tear and it’ll come right off.

I grab him by the throat, lifting him over my head and hurling him across the room. His body makes a dull thunk upon impact, but to my delight, he doesn’t immediately pass out from the pain. This human is incredibly durable. Maybe that’s why Rene kept him around.

It’s only a moment before he scrambles to his feet, trying to reach the elevator.

“That’s a good try!” I call in a sing-song voice. “You made your way in, but there’s no getting out!”

He ignores me, throwing himself at the sealed elevator door and furiously pounding the button with his good hand. Theo stumbles out behind me, and I can see the wound on his neck is still gaping, completely unhealed. Shit, silver dagger.

He won’t die, but he’s in a lot of pain.

“There’s blood in the fridge,” I tell him.

“I think I’ll take it straight from the source,” he gurgles as the intruder presses his back against the wall, trembling as sweat pours down his face.

A dark stain forms at the front of his pants and I chuckle, watching his eyes flick toward the window.

“Don’t–”

It’s too late. He’s sprinting for it through grunts of effort and pain. His limp arm flails pathetically in his sleeve as I sigh and check my watch. We have two hours until the sun comes up. That’s more than enough time.

I glance up when I hear the thud. His body is slumped limp on the floor below the window. Idiot tried to throw himself through double-thick glass. Theo is already beside him, picking him up by the hair and dragging him to the middle of the room.

“Grab a chair,” he barks at me.

I raise a brow at the sharpness of his tone, but say nothing as I drag one in from the dining room. Theo props our guest up in it while I take some rope out of the closet, along with a set of knives and scalpels. I toss the rope to Theo and let him get to work while I lay the blades out on the coffee table, dragging my fingertips along the handles.

“Hello, my babies. I’ve missed you.”

While Theo secures the knots, I make sure each knife is perfectly sharp, testing it by pricking my finger. We could do this with our teeth and claws, but there’s something so deliciously cruel about using a blade.

“We’ve gotta make him talk.”

“I know.” I pick up a large serrated knife and flip it between my fingers. The intruder’s head bobs, and he groans. “And we will. I just want to listen to him scream first.”

I press the blade into the man’s neck and grab his head, holding it in place as I begin to slice away at Rene’s brand. I’ll keep it in a jar along with anything else I decide to remove. My own little trophy shelf.

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