Page 35 of Venomous Games

Blood coats the floor beneath the table, and body parts are everywhere.

Victor is what we refer to as a cleaner. Got a body you need to get rid of? He will clean it and dispose of it for you. What he also does is play with said bodies before making them disappear. Which makes him as fucked up as the rest of us.

Actually, probably even more so.

Definitely more.

“I’m not doing your initiation bullshit,” he growls.

“We know, Victor, but you have to attend the next hunt. That isn’t negotiable.”

“The parties?” he asks.

“You have to go to at least a few so the other members get to know you and you get to know them.”

“I don’t want to know them. I know you and Soren. That’s all I need to know.”

“I’ll send you the details,” I tell him.

He goes back to work on the arm, and I pause as I reach the door.

“Victor.”

“Hmm?” His focus remains on the body.

“I need a witness. Care to come to a wedding?”

He stops what he’s doing, then locks eyes with me, his narrowed. “I hate weddings.”

“You’ll like this one.”

“Sure,” he says on a heavy sigh, and drops the scalpel. “Make it quick, or the bride may very well end up on this table,” he warns as he removes his apron. I think about Maven and how she might relish the thought of strapping someone down and playing with their body parts. Fuck, right now, she’d probably choose that person to be me.

“I think you’ll like her,” I tell him.

“I don’t like anyone.”

“Even me?”

“Especially you,” he mumbles.

I chuckle, not believing him.

NINETEEN

MAVEN

All my things are laid out on the floor because I have no fucking idea what I’m going to wear. I’m sitting on the bed in just a bra and panties when the door opens. I turn to look and find Boston standing there with a very large man behind him.

“I don’t want guests,” I grumble.

“This is Victor. Play nice,” Boston says, then notices I’m in my underwear. “Why aren’t you ready?” He grabs the towel I discarded on the floor and throws it over me.

“Because I don’t have anything to wear,” I whine, and fall back onto the bed.

“It seems you have plenty of stuff.” He waves a hand at the mess on the floor.

“I need white heels. I didn’t pack white heels. I was flustered because you were making me marry you with an hour’s notice. I don’t even like you,” I complain.