The side of my head smashes against the marble and the last thing I hear is Damon’s voice in my ear, guttural and frantic. “Blake! Blake, hold on… hold…”
CHAPTER FIVE
DAMON
“Blake!”
There’s nothing but dead silence in the comm now. But that sound… that thud.
You better be okay, baby.
Every muscle in my body screams to run. To hurt. To kill. My blood is venom, my gut churning.
I move, ripping through the hallway toward the exam room. Fuck every single thing I’ve ever learned about staying in the shadows. Blake’s down and I heard her skull crack against something hard.
The door’s ahead. Twenty feet. Fifteen.
There’s footsteps in the room. Sounds. Signs of life.
Ten feet now.
It’s a woman’s voice, high and panicked. “Oh God, oh God, oh God?—”
I hit the door at full speed, shoulder first. It slams open and I take in the scene in a fraction of a second.
The guard’s on the ground, twitching. Blake’s crumpled near the exam table, blood pooling beneath her head. And the girl isstanding over Blake with the taser still clutched in her shaking hand, her white robe streaked with red.
She twists in my direction… terrified, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Don’t move,” I start, but she’s already backing toward the door, holding the taser out with shaking hands.
“Stay back!” Her voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to—I just needed?—”
“Put it down.” I keep my voice level even though every cell in my body is screaming to get to Blake. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I can’t,” she cries. “Just?—”
You know what. Fuck this.
“Just go!” I yell. “Get out of here!”
Right now, I could give two shits about what happens to her. She hurt Blake. She’s lucky I’m not wringing her neck this very second.
She stares at me, taking in my murderous expression, like she can’t believe I’m letting her walk away. Then survival instincts must kick in because she bolts, her bare feet slapping against the marble as she runs down the hallway.
I rush to Blake, dropping to my knees.
“Blake. Baby, come on.” My hands hover over her, shaking so badly I have to force them steady. There’s so much blood. Too much. It’s spreading across the white marble in a dark, slick pool, and my stomach lurches.
Her head. Jesus Christ, her head.
I press two fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse. It’s there, faint but steady, and some of the crushing weight on my chest eases. Not much. But enough that I can think.
“Blake, I need you to open your eyes for me.” I cup her face, careful to avoid the gash along her temple. Her skin is too pale, clammy. “Come on, Angel. Stay with me.”
There’s nothing.
Shouting erupts from downstairs. I recognize that bastard Patton’s voice. Then the woman who works for him. They know the girl’s loose.
