Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
It’s a blood sample and when I turn on the microscope light and put my eyes to the eyepiece, the sight through the viewfinder is so familiar I gasp.
Battleman’s? He’s studying Battleman’s disease?
I jerk back, bewildered. I don’t understand. If he’s interested in finding a cure for Battleman’s—Belladonna’s research is the best hope for a cure. Why would he interrupt my research like this? Potentially derail all our efforts and shut down our company? None of it makes any sen—
“What the hell are you doing here?” A roar comes from behind me.
I swing around on my stool. The Beast is towering behind me, the same way I entered the room.
I stand up. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you tell me you’re studying Battleman’s? Why would you endanger my research? If you care about a cure, then you have to let me continue my—”
“Silence!” he shouts, the part of his face not covered by the mask red with rage. It’s only then I start to realize the depth of my misstep and back away from him. Which is also apparently the wrong move because he only glowers at me and starts in my direction.
“You think you can run from me? You violate my privacy, take what’s not yours as if it’s your right? You’re just like the rest of them after all!”
“That— That’s not fair!” I sputter. “This disease killed my mother—”
“And you own the patent on suffering,” he sneers. “I forgot.”
“You’re twisting everything I say!” I shout back. It’s not fair. I was— I was just—
His eyes burn with dark fire and when his chest heaves up and down, it reminds me of a mountain—no, a volcano—and he looks like he’s about to blow. “I think it’s time for another lesson reminding you exactly where your place is.”
And shit, as soon as his words sink in—
I run.
I just run. There’s no thinking involved. It’s fight or flight and all I apparently have the capacity for at the moment is flight.
I run the opposite direction out of the huge room. I don’t know where I’m going. Obviously there’s no thinking involved. Do I really think I can outrun the Beast? In his own fucking house? What the hell? What the hell what the hell what the hell? I manage to slam a light switch as I head into another corridor.
I careen down the long hallway, vaguely registering that the corridors correspond to the two wings of the castle above. Or am I just hoping that they’re mirrors of each other and that there will be a stairwell at the end of this corridor, too? Yes, yes, I’m definitely hoping that.
“Don’t you dare run!” the Beast roars from behind me. “It’ll only be worse once I catch you!”
Oh fuck. I sprint faster, going all out, balls to the wall for the door at the end of the long hallway. I make the fatal mistake of looking over my shoulder. Oh fuck!
He’s halfway down the corridor and gaining. I yank on the door, sure it’s going to be locked. And sure enough, it doesn’t open.
“No,” I cry, and yank again. This time the door budges with a squeal of old hinges. Not locked! Just really old and probably warped in its frame. I wrench the door with my whole body and it opens. Just in time, too, because though I don’t look behind me again, I can hear the Beast’s footsteps and he’s almost on top of me.
I don’t bother searching for a light switch this time, I just flee up the stairs. There’s no window in this stairwell so I’m running in the pitch dark but I don’t care. I run faster than I’ve ever run before, taking the steps two at a time. But he has much longer legs than me and I know he’ll catch up with me any second.
When I reach the first landing, I yank open the door and throw myself through. He’s right behind me and, in for a penny in for a pound, I grab the closest thing I can find, a wing-backed chair, and shove it in front of the door.
The Beast immediately slams into the door right behind me and I screech. Should I try to put something else in front of the door or just keep running. He slams the door again and the chair topples.
I take off through the sitting room, chancing one glance back over my shoulder, sure he’ll be right on top of me.
But when he toppled the chair, it landed on its side and wedged itself in the corner and blocked the door! He can’t get the door open more than a few inches, no matter how many times he rams it with his huge body.
At least that’s what I think…until the chair splinters and he bursts through. Shit, he’s strong.