Page 44 of Cruelly Bitten

No. Don’t go there.

I entered the password that Cam had used earlier, the keys having been in plain sight when he’d logged in to order dinner.

A blue screen came to life, followed by a series of applications. I searched for one that might be linked to video feeds, hoping that maybe I could find Cam and see where he was heading and what he was doing.

But there didn’t appear to be anything related to a security system anywhere. No surveillance programs. Nothing streaming-related. And no video icons.

“That’s odd.” I clicked through every program available and found them to be not only minimal but also useless.

Logswas one of the final items I tried, and I flinched as Lilith’s face appeared on the screen.

“Log year one hundred and twelve, day one,” a voice said. It sounded like Lilith; however, her lips didn’t move until she added, “Hello, my liege.”

“Yeah, no, thanks,” I muttered, minimizing the screen. While herlogsmight provide some insight into Cam’s behavior, it wasn’t what I was looking for right now.

I backed out of the current screen to survey the list of videos in this folder. They were all dated like the ones I’d seen behindthe scenes, only these had Lilith’s face attached to them in thumbnail form.

Not current surveillance. Hmm.

I exited the application and selected the remaining few, one of which was a communications panel that had the wordsNot Connectedscrolling across the screen.

There wasn’t a password or anything, so I assumed it referred to the lack of an external connection to whatever network this system used.

Still, if I could call Damien…

I clicked on a few buttons to try, and each time, an error message popped up with the same words:Not Connected.

Blowing out a breath, I went back to searching for the live feeds.

They’re definitely not here.Which was strange since the videos were housed on the internal network—something I knew since I’d been able to pull them up via a device connected to the system.

So why can’t Cam see them? Does he not have access?

That could be why he hadn’t commented on me being on his computer for so long—he hadn’t known or seen me use it. That might also explain why he had a camera in his own bedroom.

Does he even know it’s there?I frowned as I glanced up at the camera in the ceiling.

If I was right about Cam not having access to these feeds, then he likely didn’t know they existed.

So who are you?I asked the unidentified observer, aware that he or she couldn’t read my mind.Mira, maybe?

Well, whoever it was, the person clearly wasn’t concerned about me being on Cam’s laptop. Maybe because the watcher assumed I only had access to the same files as Cam.

Which suggested my backdoor method from earlier likely hadn’t been detected.

Or whoever is in charge doesn’t care.

I considered the camera once more, then shrugged and went to work. If the watcher cared, perhaps he or she would reveal his or her identity.

Meanwhile, I’d do some investigating into thisritualand see what Cam and Mira were up to.

Another spasm shot up from my center, making my thighs clench as a wave of heat rolled through my being. I swallowed, the pang not quite as rapturous as before. Maybe because I was starting to heal, thanks to my ties to Cam’s ancient immortal genetics.

It was a blessing and a curse because it expedited the process, which could sometimes result in higher degrees of agony.

Is that why you didn’t heal me?I wondered while I worked on logging in via the backdoor protocol on his laptop.Is this some sort of twisted foreplay?

Cam had always been gentle with me, his touches reverent more than passionate. But this version of him almost felt predatory. Beastly, even. Like he wasn’t holding back his baser instincts at all and allowing me to witness his darkness.