DEVIL:
"Look! Is that Ana?"
"Oh my god! Yes!"
"Is she okay?"
"Someone call 911!"
"Is she even breathing?"
The distant chatter of alarmed voices filtered through the trees as I stayed hidden, watching the scene unfold. Anastasia lay on the ground, surrounded by concerned students and paramedics. Before I left her there, I'd checked her pulse—steady, just fainted from the shock and inhaling too much smoke.
I dialled a number, my eyes never leaving her as the paramedics began their work. After the second ring, a male voice answered, "Hello?"
"The one you've been trying to locate is lying on the west wing's ground. Unconscious. If you don't want to lose your job, I suggest you run."
I hung up. The voice on the other end belonged to one of her security team.
For months now, she hasn't been herself. And I know it's partly because of that twisted doctor, Helia. I've done my homework on her—expelled from the hospital and medical college three times for her sick obsession with the human mind, performing bizarre experiments. But she's covered it up perfectly with those fancy degrees, manipulating James Brown until she gained control over Ana's life.
But it won't last. I'll make sure of that. Before she can do any real damage to Anastasia, I'll end her—painfully. And then I'll watch as she burns to ashes.
But I'll have to be patient. I need to find out who's really pulling the strings behind Helia's madness.
I watched as Anastasia's bodyguards sprinted toward her. By the time they reached her, she was already awake, looking like a clueless fucking angel—an angel who was practically begging for me to stuff her pouty full lips with my cock.
Blood surged south, and I tried to keep my cool, but I was failing miserably. I couldn't shake the memory of that morning in the forest when she let me feast on her. The taste she left in my mouth was something I'd kill to experience again.
A smile crept onto my face, knowing that the next time we meet, we have a deal to settle—and I plan to collect.
Damn, I need to control my demons. She's not ready. But every time I see her move, even breathe, those demons roar to take over—to break her, devour her, only to rebuild her into the queen she's destined to be.
I lit a cigarette, keeping my gaze on her as the men helped her back home. The paramedics confirmed she was okay, though she looked confused and embarrassed. She even tried to find me. I know she can feel my presence. It's weird as hell, but we share some sort of connection.
With one last look at her, before she disappeared into the car, I took a deep drag from my cigarette, then flicked the half-burned stick to the ground before turning to leave. My hoodie hiding my face as I passby from the campus.
Next stop: Leo Hudson.