Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“Wait.” All my pain vanished. “You’re saying you fucking eat him?”
He laughed with a whimsical sort of obscenity. “Ah, don’t be jealous. I used to be like you. Blood was my dessert of choice, but after a while…I needed more. You’ll reach that level too, eventually. And I’ll be here to teach you.”
My ears roared.
My mind went blank.
I’d seen some sick shit in this place, but that?
Knowing that this seemingly normal man—this man who had a wife and a career and was old enough to have existed in society with no one the wiser—dined on people?
Yeah…he has to die.
“Go rest up,” he said. “That head wound looks nasty.” Breaking into a waddling run, he waved. “Bye!”
I lurched after him.
The world tilted.
I landed on my knees.
The cartilage in my joints crunched against barnacle-sharp rock.
“No, no, don’t follow!” Charles glanced back. “You’re really not looking so good. Don’t worry, plenty more games to enjoy if you sit this one out.” Laughing again, he clambered toward the cave entrance where Kyle had disappeared.
Scrambling to my feet, I went to chase.
Vertigo kicked my ass.
I tripped to the left, the surf dragging me toward it with its salty song.
FUCK!
Unslinging my useless gun, I tossed it into the sand with a snarl.
Closing my eyes and balling my hands, I focused on getting my shit together.
I couldn’t think about Charles or Kyle or the other two Masters already in the caves.
Focus.
Breathe.
I tried to do what Ily did every morning and ground myself. I pictured the pain in my head trickling down my body and into the beach.
I felt ridiculous standing there with my eyes closed and pain tearing through me, but…slowly…breath by breath, my mind quietened just enough for the pain to cascade through my bones and seep out the soles of my feet.
What the hell?
Meditation, she called it.
Wrong…it was a fucking miracle.
My eyes snapped open, clear and focused again.
How had something so simple as shutting out the noise and concentrating worked so well?
Sure, I still hurt.
Sure, I was still cold and drenched and bruised in places I really wished I wasn’t, but…it was no longer debilitating.
The wooziness was gone.
The pain manageable.
I ran.
I chased after Charles and his sick confessions.
I had nothing but my bare hands, all while two guys—who just admitted they got off on chopping up human flesh and turning cannibal—hunted Ily.
If they find her…
The animal inside me prowled and snapped at its tether.
The darkness sucked me deeper.
I’d tried to play this smart.
Tried to stay human.
But…the ocean had either decided to condemn me or free me.
I wasn’t meant to play this as a man.
I was meant to play this as a creature unbeholden to rules and regulations.
Stiff with pain and breaking beneath monstrosity, I stalked Charles right into the darkness of the cave. He stumbled and grunted as he navigated uneven ground, sounding like an elephant seal as I hunted.
Every step, I turned my back on sanity.
Every breath, I embraced anarchy.
I’d eaten with this man.
Spoken with this man.
I hated this man because he was filth and rot, but…so was I. And there wasn’t enough room for both of us.
I cleared my throat as the cold, dank stone snuffed out sunlight. “Charles.”
He sucked in a breath and turned to face me. His nose wrinkled at my sorry state. “You don’t give up, do you? Look, go back and have a hot shower. There’ll be plenty of other games.” He reached out and patted my shoulder. “Go on. Have a beer and just, guhh—”
His voice cut off as my hand lashed out and wrapped around his throat.
Every hideous part of me sprang out with fangs.
I couldn’t stop it.
I had no control over the diabolical savagery within me.
He ate people…
Sick.
Vile.
Dead.
Slamming his well-padded spine against the wet rock, I wrapped both hands around his throat.
He tried to speak.
He scratched at my wrists.
He drew blood as he thrashed.
But I just kept squeezing.
The more he struggled, the worse I became.
He turned suicidal in my hold.
Kicking, groaning, flailing.
His weight almost threw me off balance as I kicked away my slippery shoes and planted bare feet on slimy stone.
But I didn’t let go.
I didn’t speak or look away as his eyes bugged wide, his mouth gasped like a dying trout, and his soft body went slack in my hold.
I killed him slowly, personally. I watched his lifeforce sputtering, ending…
I’d killed Daxton in a fugue of fury. I hadn’t been aware when I’d stolen his life.
This was different.
This was cold, ruthless, merciless.
With a soft grunt, he slithered down the cave wall, collapsing between my spread legs.
I went with him, crouching over him, never loosening my grip.
Another roaring.
Another pebble dancing shake.
But it wasn’t a blowhole exploding this time.
It was me.
My soul.
My immortal spirit shot out of me as I dug my thumbs deeper into his fleshy neck and squeezed.
I squeezed until he switched from sleeping to dead.