Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,34

skull open. The sheer force causes me to fall on the mattress, clutching my head.

Paracetamol did help, but since fucking Ghost told me about it, I don’t reach out for the pills this time.

He might as well be poisoning me.

Amidst the chaos of the pain, all I can think about are ways to save Eloise. After Ghost placed a target on her, he must’ve sent Team Zero the file about her. Her work. Her house. Her everything.

It’s only a matter of time before the dogs come out to hunt.

Dogs like me.

Unlike me, they don’t give a fuck about Eloise. They only see a target to eliminate.

A bloody game.

Dr fucking Johnson’s daughter no less. This will be a personal vendetta for all of them. A way to vent their anger about being made into Omega’s slaves.

Fingers touch my shoulder from behind. I flip over, hand slipping under the pillow for my gun.

Eloise.

My movements freeze.

She’s looking at me with a deep sense of concern, tears shining in her eyes. Like she can feel my pain. Like she’s hurting for my pain.

Someone like me, a nobody, is causing Eloise to shed tears. Like she actually cares about me.

No one is supposed to care about me.

I’m suffocated by my own skin.

“Tell me what to do.” She sits on the edge of the bed, hands checking my shoulder as if she’s trying to find a button that stops this whole mess. “It’s obviously not a normal seizure. Tell me how to stop this.”

“You can’t.” I reach out to her and hold her close to my chest. She snuggles into me, fingers gripping my T-shirt and teary eyes locked on mine. Deep pain and desperation in them.

For me.

She’s crying for me.

As I drown in those eyes, I become sure about one thing.

For this woman, I’d stop being Hades’ demon.

For this woman, I’d slaughter any bastard who treats her like a target.

Even Team Zero.

Because I don’t belong with them anymore, I belong with her.

Eloise

Something wet connects with my lips. I stir, trying to move my head, but the licking continues, over and over.

I jolt awake, and Charlotte’s tiny face greets me.

“Bonjour, ma petite.” I croak, propping on my elbows.

My eyes widen as I make out the red neon numbers on the nightstand clock. Four in the afternoon.

Have I slept for... five hours?

That’s a miracle. I rub my face as if to make sure this isn’t a dream. Nope. Definitely a reality.

I was actually sound asleep for five whole hours. A renewed energy courses through me.

My lips pull up in a smile. A bubble of excitement forms at the back of my throat. If I’m not mistaken, this is called... happiness.

I’m happy because I slept like a normal human being.

My smile drops when I realise that the person I had fallen asleep beside is gone. Only an empty bed and his leather scent remain.

I release Charlotte and ease out of the bed. My heart hammers as I tiptoe to the bathroom. Crow was in so much pain that it hurt me to just sit and watch. I doubted it had anything to with his gunshot injury and more to do with the drug.

When I fell asleep, it was with Crow stroking my hair. The seizure subsided and he seemed at peace, which somehow lulled me to the other world.

What if the symptoms returned during my sleep and he’s dying somewhere?

The bathroom is empty.

Where is he?

I’m about to check the balcony when a loud bang startles me. Without thinking, I run barefoot to the source of the sound. My feet slip on the stairs until I almost fall.

My feet halt at the threshold of the reception area. Facing the window, Crow’s half-naked silhouette is bathed in the afternoon light. He’s only in trousers that hang low on his hips. His raven tattoo is half-shadowed, appearing as eerie as the man wearing it.

That’s not what made me stop and stare. Although in part, yes, I can’t stop admiring how beautiful he is. But what caught my eye is the rifle he’s checking, the two guns on the table, and a few knives. They’re all laid out in front of him as if they’re meat and he’s the butcher.

“What’s going on?” I ask, approaching him with hesitant steps.

He doesn’t pay me any attention. His entire focus is on wiping the rifle and looking through the hole on top.

I swallow when I make out his expression. This close, he’s rigid, features stone cold, and movements automatic.

The killer inside him is on full