Vicious (Villains Book 1)

Victor wanted to find Eli, and Eli wanted to find Victor, and one way or another, they would succeed. She looked at Victor’s profile one last time, and tried to picture the man who had once been Eli’s friend, who had brought him back, made him what he was, saved her sister … and for a moment, as she finished dialing Eli’s number, she almost wished

OUT of nothing came pain.

A moment later, the cold ran up her arms, and caught her breath, and beneath her hands a heartbeat fluttered, as Victor Vale opened his eyes, and smiled.

If he’d possessed even a fraction of Eli’s religious zeal, he might think God was pointing him on a path, a mission. He wasn’t willing to go that far, to buy in, but he still appreciated the show of support.

Victor didn’t like it because he had, of course, petitioned to stay over break, too, applied for the same exemptions, and had been denied. It had taken all his control to hide the anger, the desire to pen over Eli’s life, and rewrite it into his.

He swallowed, and drove the pen into his dead friend’s chest. One count, two count, three count. Nothing. And then, somewhere between Victor giving up and reaching for his phone, Eli gasped.

Victor Vale was not a fucking sidekick.

“Someone tried to kill me.” “I can see that.

“Angie is dead—,” said Eli. “Yes, I know—” “…but so are you.” It wasn’t a threat. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Victor. You’re something that’s crawled into his skin. A devil wearing him.” “Ouch,” said Victor, and for some reason, the word made him laugh.