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The torture in my dick slowly faded, seeping into my lower belly and down my legs. I wished the pain in my head would do the same thing. “Yeah, thanks.” I groaned, gritting my teeth and forcing myself upright.
“Oh shit. Guess you’re out of the game.” Charles cocked an eyebrow at my broken gun. He chuckled as his eyes dropped down my jeans. “And I hate to tell you, but that’s not just seawater you’re dripping in.”
Ignoring the contusions throbbing in my spine and the black dots dancing over my eyes, I stood and brushed at my soaking clothes. A rush of nausea—that had nothing to do with morals and was more about a head injury—had me locking my knees so I didn’t fall back down.
At least the spots in my gaze faded as I looked at the bright orange paint coating my left side.
Great.
Fucking wonderful.
“Definitely out of the game. You’ve smashed all your paintballs and broken your gun.” Charles shrugged with fake grief. “Ah well, better luck next time, old chap. I’ll be sure to tell Ily you said hi.” Licking his lips, he bent a little closer. “I have to say, after watching you two at dinner, I’ve been dying to know how she tastes.”
I bared my teeth as the world swam a little.
Backing out of my reach, he chuckled. “You know…Kyle might like to cut them up, but what he doesn’t know is, if you don’t cause too much damage, you have a never-ending smorgasbord.”
Rubbing at my blood-streaked temple, willing the beach to stay still, I frowned. “Smorgasbord?”
Lowering his voice so even the seagulls didn’t hear him, he whispered, “I’m saying I’ve eaten a few strips off Dane over the years, and as long as you don’t cut too deep or take too much, the body heals itself in the most miraculous—”
“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.
