A growl sliced through my clenched teeth. If she wanted some big-wig rich dude with a dud cock, she shouldn’t have demanded my attention.

It was too late for her, too late for us.

My fingers flew over the keyboard, and with a smug chuckle I pressed enter on the computer. I leant back and my hands flexed behind my neck as I watched the masterpiece unfold. Every single door in the asylum clicked open. The fundraiser was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Did she fucking kill her? I think there’s a high possibility that she fucking killed her.

As I watched Katsy’s body slump to the ground on the security monitor, a huge weight lifted from my soul, the exact size and heaviness of the blonde tormentor who was now unalive.

My golden girl was blood-drenched, streaks of red smudged over her face as she escaped the clawing celebrations and stalked through the corridors. Inmates ran crazy, chanting and hackling, enjoying their freedom by destroying whatever they could get their hands on. I’d caused an all-out riot.

Guests fled the scene and security were overwhelmed. A deafening alarm chimed through the facility and Fern’s emergency beeper buzzed non-stop, vibrating next to his still chest.

I eyed Micah’s procession, attempting to guess her intended destination as she geared further into the unit.

She wouldn’t be coming to see little old me, would she? Should I wait in my room, naked? Strike a sexy pose?

Twisting down the hallway, she filled the frame of the kitchen, watching Walter and his goons harass young Cookie.

Fuck this destitute, useless castle with dodgy cameras. I was observing body language alone, the camera’s vision restricted to blurry images shifting in and out of focus.

Walter soon had her in a chokehold, his arm locked around her throat from behind. He leant forward and licked up the side of her face. I bounced on the balls of my feet, ready to fly to her side and rip out his fucking tongue.

I hesitated. Micah’s mouth stretched into a serial killer grin. I’d only ever seen that expression on one other person. Me—in the reflective pools of my victims’ eyes.

All went black.

MICAH

Ace’s whimpers plagued my retreating form until I found myself at the communal kitchen door, Walter and his crew bullying the poor boy huddling beside the sink.

“Leave him,” I said, stealing their attention.

Walter clucked as his eyes roamed over my body, approaching as if he was a hunter. You’d think he would process my red-stained skin or soiled dress. Instead, power and lust clouded his judgement, his two sidekicks not any smarter as their eager steps brought them closer.

“Doctor Chaser, you look breathtaking. Have you come to join us?”

“I came to join Ace.”

“He’s a boy. He wouldn’t know how to handle all of you.”

I ignored him and pinpointed my attention solely on Ace, his head popping out from behind his assailants, wide eyes bulging.

“Lay low,” I said, and he gave an imperceptible nod.

Walter didn’t like to be ignored. Blocking our view, his grasp tightened on the makeshift shank in his hand.

I wonder if he knows how to use it. I was intrigued enough to give him a shot and find out.

Walter jerked forward, flipped my position and had me in a chokehold in a matter of seconds. Sure, his movements were delayed, his fluidity ragged, but I was surprised he could execute the manoeuvre at all.

“I’ll show you a good time, darling,” he said, trailing his disgusting tongue up the side of my face.

My skin stretched thin, lips tilting into an obscene arch. “My turn.” Kicking back, his knee fractured inward. Ace switched off the lights and my bloodlust thrummed back to life with our descent into darkness.

I flipped easily out of Walter’s crumbling hold. His knee had shattered and I’d hardly put any pressure into the assault. I grabbed the handle of a frying pan I clocked on entry and proceeded to beat the three idiots over the head with it. Groans accompanied the vibrating hits as steel made contact with their thick skulls. It didn’t quantify as a fight per se, their disorientation barely a challenge.

The pan clanged to the floor as I swapped it out for a knife. Grabbing Ace by the shirt, I dragged him to his room. As soon as he was shoved inside, I slammed the door shut and stabbed the knife into the electronic keypad. Energy buzzed around the embedded blade before the lock clicked into place. No one else would be able to enter until it was manually opened, which wouldn’t happen tonight.

Satisfied, I turned on my heel and aimed for the control room in search of the one person that would be able to calm the vicious mania that I was engulfed.

Chapter 18Psycho

Micah launched through the entryway with stealthy precision, stiletto elevated and ready for attack. My arm barred upward, blocking the heel from gashing into my flesh, the shoe scattering to the ground.

I stared directly into her amber eyes, blazing with the intense power of a thousand stars, the red-stained streaks over her face highlighting the cold-blooded frenzy that had overtaken her. It called to me, lured me in, seducing me into their depths. I was on the precipice of pure and utter destruction. One word from her and I’d burn this place to the ground. One heated look and I’d destroy the fucking world.

To create a semblance of distance in the confined space, I reversed until my legs hit the monitor. Exposing my back, I turned, dancing my fingers over the keyboard to complete my final task. I corrupted all footage from the last twenty-four hours and subsequently shut down all security cameras across the whole asylum.

No one would know what transpired tonight. No one would have the visual of my golden girl transforming into the breathtaking predator that now stood at my back. Her deadly metamorphosis was for my eyes only, stored in my memory bank with fond appreciation.

Micah stepped up to my side, processing the entire wall of tv screens, which transitioned from a buzzing grey to clear, blank nothingness.

Her hand slipped into mine without ceremony, our fingers interlocked. Squeezing lightly, I could feel the tiny shards of glass penetrating her palm. When her face eventually tilted my way, her emotionless expression had dropped. Her features were open, eyes filled with so much acceptance and trust that I almost buckled under the severe weight of her stare.

Without a word I cleared the room of evidence, stole Fern’s swipe and left his corpse in the corner, the identity of his killer to forever remain a mystery. Holding her shoes in one hand and her palm in the other, I led Micah through the corridors. It was easy to manoeuvre undetected through the madness. The alarm had ceased and security reinforcements had barricaded the asylum perimeter, containing the inmates and guiding guests to safety.

I stole a first aid kit along the way to my room and barred the door. No one would disturb us. The two that would’ve dared were both dead.

I switched on the UV lamp in the corner, trudged into the adjoining bathroom and thoroughly washed Fern’s blood from my murderous hands, Micah following noiselessly.

From the first moment I’d always considered her a goddess, and tonight she personified the Goddess of Death; blood hardened over her entire front, her brunette hair a tangled mess down to her waist and a soft, purple glow silhouetted her frame—a vision of unadulterated sin and wickedness.

She remained standing in the bathroom doorway. “Are you sad she’s gone?” Her first words were toneless, impassive.

At first I didn’t know who she referred to, until my mind replayed the scene of Katsy’s death.

“You think I care for that bitch?” I approached her in reverence. “I only wish I’d done it sooner.”

“I’m sorry I took that from you.”

“Don’t be. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” I lifted and kissed her injured palm, her skin cold to the touch. “To know it was your hand that dealt the blow, that avenged my dignity. Baby, don’t ever be sorry.”

As I stepped closer, she pulled out a necklace hidden beneath her dress collar. A gleaming silver chain with a distinguishable oval pendant attached, the letters A.M. engraved in the centre.