Chapter Twenty-Six

Octavia blinked up at the dark ceiling. Her mind was awhirl with troubled thoughts, despite her being intensely aware of the man sleeping in the other bed.

Creed, the man Rory had told her about, was indeed familiar to her. More than she could ever admit to anyone. The moment he had spoken of Creed, memories—awful memories—had battered her. She hadn’t let on about it, but the assault had been a shock. She didn’t like the subterfuge. But she didn’t know if she could trust him with that horrible part of her past.

It was far too personal, too painful.

Creed.

His was the voice that haunted her nightmares. All their nightmares.

The Voice.

The voice that had almost destroyed them all on that fateful night when Nina had shattered. He was the catalyst, the one responsible for all the pain and suffering. Octavia was sure of that, despite her memories being chaotic and vague in places.

She also knew he had been a big part of Nina’s past, an influence that went back further than she could fathom.

Creed—the Voice—she hated him with a passion. They all did. Because he had destroyed Nina.

He had to pay for that.

At the thought, the others who dwelled alongside her stirred in fierce agreement. There was fear, too, but she would not succumb to it. None of them would.

Revenge was all that mattered now.

He. Would. Pay.

Doctor Taylor’s murder had been a surprise. Totally unexpected, considering she had spent less than fifteen minutes in his office to get a prescription for B12 injections. Sure, Joey had relieved him of his wallet, but other than that, the whole visit had been completely uneventful. She doubted the kindly doctor had even noticed the theft before he was killed.

Though a part of her wanted to be angry, she honestly couldn’t blame Rory for asking if she had killed the old man. Yes, she’d felt hurt at the accusation, but that was beside the point. It wasn’t as if he could know any better. He didn’t know her at all.

Dismissing the fact that Rory affected her too deeply for her own good, she turned her focus to the more important topic.

The dead doctor.

A gut-level feeling told her Creed was responsible for the murder. That he’d somehow followed her to the doctor’s office. But why? And how had he tracked her so fast? Rory had been extremely careful as they’d travelled, constantly checking for tails.

A faint memory assailed her, of a burning pain in her arm and the inside of her thigh. All the while, that face from that photo hovered in her mind, the Voice threatening her, insisting she was his. That she could never escape him, no matter where she tried to hide…

With trembling fingers, she lightly touched the throbbing spot where she knew a small scar marred her skin. She felt Lena’s eagerness for revenge burn inside them, even as she fought the memories and the sense of helplessness that came with them.

She shivered, fighting back tears. Too much!

Vague memories of the day those small scars had been cut into her flesh, flitted through her mind. She’d screamed in pain, and the next thing she’d known, Lena had taken over, launching herself at the Voice like a fierce beast, with every ounce of aggression still left inside her drugged, aching body. The effort had been in vain. Except for the minor satisfaction of knowing she’d damaged his pretty face.

Like Rory, she didn’t believe in coincidence.

With the old doctor’s murder, it had become clear someone was hot on their trail.

It had to be Creed. There was no other explanation.

He was coming for her. He would never stop. Not until one of them was dead.

You are mine. You’ll never escape me. His voice, his face.

Him.

They would see about that.

Now that she’d been warned, she would be ready for him.

They would all be ready.