Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,21

my eyes still foggy. Licking my lips, my head lolls to the side to see Nos step into the man.

“You touched what is mine,” he rumbles, as the lights flicker in the hallway. The human shakes and cries, opening and closing his mouth like he can’t speak. I see Nos starting to change, getting bigger and thicker as the lights flicker out completely. Those glowing eyes are the only beacon in the dark. I hear a gurgle and then nothing.

“Nos?” My voice is slurred.

A petal soft wet kiss lands on my forehead. “I am here, Little Monster. Be good.” Then the warmth disappears.

Slowly, the lights flicker back on and I lean my head back as my eyes start to finally clear. Blinking, I stare at the bloody scene before me. Looks like my monster had some fun—I grin. I should care but I don't. I’m done pretending to be something I’m not.

There on the floor, in a crumpled pile, is the dead waiter, his eyes open and unseeing, and not two feet away is his bloody heart. Around it is a crudely drawn blood heart.

I giggle, snorting as I stare at it. Nos is crazy but it warms something inside me, something I thought was too broken to work again. Pulling myself to my feet, something starts to move in my body. Ugh, not again. Grabbing my bag, I pull myself up the stairs to the floor I need and stagger out, falling into walls as I try to stop the change. A trolley rams into me, sending me sprawling and I see the waiter run from around it, an apology on his lips, but I can’t talk. He pulls me to my feet and I grab the lid covering from the trolley and smash it into his head, knocking him out. Looking around, I spot no one—shit, that was sloppy. The service elevator he came from is still open and I quickly push him inside. Tying him up with the covering from the trolley, I shove a roast potato in his mouth so he doesn't scream when he wakes up. I strip fast as the change comes over me. I writhe on the floor, but the process is quicker this time and when I push myself to my feet and look in the mirror on the back wall of the elevator wall, I spot the dead waiter from the hallway. Well, I was going to flirt my way in but this works too.

Stripping off the other waiter quickly, I get changed and stuff my dress in my bag, before pressing the hold button on the elevator so they won’t find him for a while. Sauntering back out as a man, I wiggle my hips to try and sort out the feeling of a penis between my legs. Damn, how do they walk with thing dangling between their legs? Peeking in my pants, I grin.

“Mazel tov, dude. Nice cock,” I whisper as a room door opens. I close my pants and grin at the lady giving me a weird look. I wink and she giggles. Grabbing my bag on the way, I push the trolley down the hall, hunting for the room I need.

Aha, thirty-four. Knocking on the door I wait, shifting to try and jiggle the cock. I really need to try windmilling it, I’ve seen so many men do it and it looks fun. The door opens to reveal a bored looking man with no shirt on, just black trousers. He glances past me, his hand in his pocket obviously clutching a gun. He nods and gestures me to come in. I push the trolley past him as he shuts the door. He turns to face me and I smack him on the head with the covering. Damn, this thing is handy. He goes down but is still awake, shit.

Diving onto him, I pull the gun from his pocket and pistol whip him. I knock him out and I sit back as the change comes over me again—shit, it lasted longer than last time at least. Crawling to the side, I groan and wiggle as I shift back. Laying on the cream carpet, I pant into it, my body weak and hardly able to move.

I don't know how long I lie there for until my stomach stabs at me, making me curl up into a ball. It comes again but with an accompanying growl this time, and I realise I’m starving. Not just hungry, but actually starving. Crawling