Page 58 of The Cute Psycho

"The safety's off." Vlad's voice rings in my ear. "Just press the trigger. But not at me, please." He has the gall to joke, even now as the men are coming toward him.

My mouth opens on a warning as I see movement, one aiming for Vlad with his gun. But he's not in the least concerned.

Instead, swiping a silver platter from a nearby table, he holds it up, the bullet connecting with the metal and denting it in its attempt to break the material.

What?

More bullets fly, and I watch in awe as Vlad uses the platter as a shield, thwarting all of their shots.

A brief pause, and I see them try to reload their weapons. It's enough for Vlad to ditch the shield, using it as a throwing disk to aim it at one man's throat. He moves faster than anyone I've ever seen, as he kicks at a table, breaking the legs, and sending them flying toward the men.

It's a cacophony of sounds as they keep firing more shots, and Vlad defends himself with nothing but his bare hands and whatever he finds around.

Tightening my grip on the gun, I lift my head slightly, watching for the closest man. Raising the barrel, I pray that my aim isn't off, and I squeeze the trigger. My shot hits him in his gut, his hand going to his stomach and clutching at the open wound.

While my endeavor to help proves to be successful, now the others fix their gazes at me, switching focus from Vlad to my hiding place.

Vlad makes a tsk sound, sounding almost bored, before grabbing my hand and effortlessly tugging me to my feet and into his arms.

"Bloodthirsty." He smiles. "I like it," he comments before whirling me around, his front fitted to my back, his arm embracing mine, as he caresses the hand holding the gun, firmly placing his finger on top of my own.

One twirl, and he squeezes the trigger, hitting the target square in the face. Another twirl and he avoids an incoming bullet, leaning back to shoot another man.

Three down, two more to go.

The others, seeing as their guns are useless, ditch them in favor of their fists.

"Hold on tight," he whispers into my ear as one man tackles us. Placing his hand under my butt, he swoops me up, aiming my spread out legs at the man in front of us.

"Kick," he says, and I can only oblige, pushing my feet into the man's face until he staggers backwards. One more push and he's out, his head colliding with the edge of a table.

Vlad spins me around, one hand around my waist, the other grabbing a knife from a nearby table. Effortlessly, he swings it forward and it gets embedded into the last man's eye.

As the man writhes in pain, his hand going to his injured eye, blood starts pooling down his face. Letting go of me, Vlad takes another knife, plunging it into the man's neck, cutting open the flesh and watching as more blood flows freely from his body.

Vlad's upper lip twitches, and his pupils dilate as his eyes hone inon the blood. He's in a trance as he brings his hand to the man's throat, coating his palm in red and staring at it reverently.

Sensing the change in him and remembering the incident at Sacre Coeur, I move fast. Grabbing his arm, I turn him around, my hands framing his face so that he looks me in the eye.

I note the paleness of his pallor and the way his black gaze resembles a tar pit. He blinks twice, staring at me with no hint of recognition.

Am I too late?

I'm not even afraid as I continue to plead with him with my eyes. Even knowing what he's capable of, I have no desire to run or hide.

"Come back," I whisper, "come back to me."

He tilts his head to the side, studying me like a predator, his ears pricking at the sound of my words. Still, he doesn't seem to understand me or realize what's happening around him.

Unable to shake him off, I do the only thing I can think of.

I lift myself on the tips of my toes and at the same time I bring his face closer to mine. Still holding on to his cheeks, I pucker my lips and press them to his.

He doesn't react.

Undeterred, I apply more pressure, pushing into him until my lips are flush against his. His mouth is soft, a contrast to the hardness of him, especially now that he seems to be heading into murderous rage territory.

Holding my breath, I keep my lips on his for as long as I can before I realize I'm out of oxygen. Gasping as I fill my lungs with air, my mouth opens slightly on top of his, and for the first time I get a reaction.

---