him, and out into the hallway, relieved that they were almost on their way. But then she suddenly pulled her hand from his grip and lunged for Vivian’s door.
“Skye, don’t!” he shouted, as she quickly twisted the doorknob. “You don’t want to go in there.”
“I have to, Elliot.” She turned her head to the side, a shattered but determined expression on her face as she glanced up at him. “Please don’t try to stop me.”
He cursed under his breath, but damn it, this was her apartment. As badly as he wanted to protect her, he didn’t have any right to tell her what to do. Not when it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. And going into the room wasn’t something that could kill her. It was just going to cause her a shitload of pain, and he hated it.
Then she opened Vivian’s door, and the most unholy scream he’d ever heard a woman make came tearing out of her.
There was blood. A lot of it. Spattered over the floor and one wall, and as he drew in a deep breath, his stomach clenched with knots.
It was human blood. Vivian’s blood. And the assholes had left a message written for them with it on the wall.
Too late Runners. This bitch is ours.
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