Page 40 of Devoured

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I’d like to hear it from you.”

“I didn’t sleep.”My voice came out steadier than I felt. “It’s hard to sleep when you know what kind of monster runs this place.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “Monster? That’s quite an accusation.”

“It’s not an accusation when I saw what you did to Marion. When I watched through the glass.”

“Ah.”He leaned back in his chair. “So you were watching. How... voyeuristic of you.”

I stood up so fast the chair rocked back. “You’re disgusting.”

The smile vanished. He stood too. His face didn’t change, but his body had gone tense, coiled. Ready.

“Sit down, Zahra,”he ordered.

“Go to hell.”

I grabbed the first thing I could reach—a heavy glass paperweight from his desk—and hurled it at his face. He ducked, but it caught his shoulder hard. I used the distraction to lunge across the desk, my hand finding his cheek, nails digging in as I dragged them down.

Three red lines opened on his skin.

He caught my wrist and yanked me forward, using my momentum against me. I crashed into him and we both staggered back. His free hand found my throat, slamming me against the wall hard enough to knock a frame loose. It crashed to the floor, glass shattering.

“You think you’re strong now?”His breath was hot on my face, fingers tightening on my windpipe. “Think you’re different from all the others?”

I clawed at his hand, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. My knee came up, aimed between his legs, but he twisted away.

The door opened.

He didn’t let go.

Dr. Alan walked in carrying her clipboard, taking in the scene with the same expression she’d wear checking inventory. Me pinned against the wall. Him bleeding from fresh scratches. The broken glass glittering on the floor.

“Starting early today?”She closed the door behind her with a soft click. “You always get too hands-on, Varnar. We’ve discussed this.”

Varnar’s grip loosened just enough for me to suck in air.

“She attacked me.”

“Of course she did.”Dr. Alan set her clipboard on a chair and stepped closer, her heels crunching on broken glass. “She watched us work on Marion last night. Stood right outside that door like a little peeping tom.”

She reached out and ran her fingers through my hair, gentle at first, like she was comforting a child. Then her fist closed and she yanked my head back, forcing me to look at her. “Did you enjoy the show? Watching your friend break?”

I tried to spit, but my mouth had gone dry as sand.

She smiled and let go, wiping her hand on her coat like I was something dirty. “This one needs more intensive treatment. We were too gentle with Marion.”

“The meeting—”Varnar started.

“I moved it to tomorrow.”She glanced at her watch, then back at me. “I told them we need more time to... prepare properly.”

The way she said ’prepare’ made my skin crawl. Something about her tone—the slight pause before the word—sent goosebumps racing up my arms. There was weight behind it, meaning I couldn’t grasp yet.

Varnar released my throat. I dropped, catching myself on my hands and knees, coughing. The broken glass bit into my palms, but I barely felt it past the burning in my throat.

“Get her on the table,”Dr. Alan said, already moving to the medical cabinet. “And this time, let’s make sure she understands her position here.”

Varnar grabbed my upper arm, hauling me to my feet. I swung at him with my free hand, but he caught that too, twisting both arms behind my back. Pain shot through my shoulders. “Stop fighting,”he said against my ear. “It only makes this worse.”