Page 84 of The Night Shift
“Oh, bless. You’re worried about me.”
Holly’s only response is, “Choke on your spit and die.”
I pop two pills in my mouth and swallow them down without any water, watching as she turns off the lights and climbs into her bed. She doesn’t shower or change into clean clothes or even give me a goodnight kiss. No, it seems as if my love is too exhausted for any of that tonight. Fifteen minutes pass by and Holly’s exhaustion has gotten the better of her. She’s fast asleep. Snoring blissfully.
Sleep for me comes in snatches, punctuated by the throbbing pain in my abdomen and the soft rustle of Holly’s breaths and light snoring. At some point during the night, the pain gets too much, and I sit up to watch Holly sleep. She is lying so sweetly. Innocent Holly. Precious Holly.MyHolly. I shift closer, my heart thudding fast and hard and I crave to touch her hair. But I don’t. Instead, I just continue watching her. One hour passes. Then two. Her dreams twitch under her closed eyelids and I wonder if there’s a small chance she’s dreaming of me.
Chapter 16
Holly
The blood is the first thing I notice. Wet. Violent. Maroon. Smeared all over the bed, the pillows, the floor. His face.
The metallic scent hangs in the air, making my toes tingle. He’s looking at me, his eyes gleaming with a dark possessiveness. A single flickering bulb casts long, menacing shadows on the grimy walls. There’s blood on the walls too. I’m not sure who it belongs to, but that stops mattering when his hand, rough and calloused, finds my bare skin, sending a jolt of heat through me. It dips beneath the hem of my shirt, sending goosebumps prickling across my skin.
I say his name. Once. Twice. Begging, pleading, wanting more. My eyes flutter shut. Adrenaline thrums throughout my veins, beneath the urgency of his touch. A thrilling current.
He puts a hand against my neck, sliding it through my hair. He kisses my throat, my collarbone, then rips my tight, sticky tee off my body. His damp hair tingles against my breasts as he unhooks my bra and presses his hot mouth to my skin. Every string in me pulls taut.
My fingers dig into his back.Theo.
A guttural groan escapes him, vibrating against my nipples and sending shivers down my spine.Oh god, yes.
I say his name again. I run my fingers through his hair, gripping tighter and pulling him closer. His teeth scrape against my skin. I can hardly breathe. I can hardly think.
His fingers dip down and trail across the thick viscous liquid, then back to me, a hint of crimson staining his fingertips. He smears blood across my chest. Hot and wet. A gasp escapes my lips. He doesn't stop there. He smears it over my nipples, tweaking and pinching them. A moan settles at the back of my throat.
He takes some more blood and puts it over my neck, my lips, my cheek, mirroring the mark on his own. I can feel my arousal pooling at my center.
He places his thumb on my bottom lip and drops his voice to a husky whisper in the dim room, “Open.”
Not a question, but an order laced with something primal.
Something feral spirals inside of me. I’m out of control.
My body moves on its own accord. My lips part open, hesitantly at first, then wider as a strange sense of surrender washes over me.
Theo smiles. His thumb grazes the soft skin under my lip, then dips back down, tracing a line down my jaw. “You want a taste, love?”
I nod vigorously.Yes.
He pushes his thumb inside my mouth, and I lick the blood off his skin, the metallic tang exploding on my tongue. It’s a bizarre flavor. Acrid yet strangely sweet too. Arousing. Forbidden.
He runs his hand through my hair again, coating my sweaty strands with the blood on his fingers, and tugs hard, tilting my face up. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my ears. I want to feel those lips on mine. I need to. Somehow reading my mind, Theo leans in. His lips pry mine open with gentle persuasion. Warm and sweet. I groan and shiftback, letting him edge my mouth open. A soft noise catches in the back of my throat. His arms wrap around my waist. Heat courses through my veins. His tongue touches mine. My whole body is on fire. My hands bunch up in his hair. He kisses me so hard; my lips feel raw. Bruised. I can’t get enough. I want more.More. All my stewing feelings come boiling to the surface. Without breaking the kiss, he walks us to the edge. I grasp his face, making him look at me.
But it’s not Theo anymore.
It’s Aanya.
Her face, once beautiful, is now something grotesque. Her choppy brown hair hangs limp, matted with grime. Tears, thick and black, carve rivers through the caked-on dirt. But it's the wrists that truly send a spike of ice through me. Her wrists. They're…not wrists. They're mangledthings…bones protruding from a sea of raw flesh. Deep, jagged gashes gape open, pulsating with an unnatural rhythm. A metallic tang fills my mouth, thick and sweet. It’s blood. Her blood.
Tears sting my eyes, and I try breaking away. Her grip tightens, the skeletal fingers digging into my waist. Her white eyes stare into mine, a silent plea for something, some unknown horror, reflected in their depths.
A scream tears from my throat.Let me go! I shout.LET ME GO!
She doesn’t. Her grip tightens around my waist, a vice digging into my ribs. I scream louder. But Aanya doesn't budge.
Through the haze of terror, I see her face contorting. Her jaw seems to unhinge, stretching wider than seems possible. Her once familiar eyes bulge from their sockets, the whites turning a sickly yellow. A single tear, thick and black as oil, rolls down her cheek. Her whole face seems to vibrate. She screams. But no sound escapes. It’s like watching a horror movie on mute.
