Read Online When Wicked Craves by J. K. Beck - Free Book Online

across the creature’s face. It loped to the glass, arms hanging down so that fingers dragged on the floor as it moved, apelike, toward Nick.
    Once it reached the glass, though, it stood, rising to its full height, its body wide and hard, every old scar healed, every old injury gone. Days earlier, the creature had been in constant motion. It had done nothing but rage and rip, its actions hinting at madness. Lately, there were long moments of calm, during which the creature would sit motionless, its head tilted, as if it were thinking. Or, perhaps, listening.
    Then, the body had been twisted, much like a shape-shifter midchange or a para-daemon in a violent fit of temper. Now, though, the body had settled into its old form. Serge’s familiar shape, his familiar stance.
    Even the chunk of flesh that Nick and Luke had cut out of its thigh was healed, the skin now perfect and smooth. Somehow, that made the creature that much more terrifying.
    It stared at Nick, dark eyes locking onto Nick’s, holdingthem in an eerie, unblinking gaze. Nick stared back, refusing to show fear or disgust. Refusing to lose faith in his friend now, even though he knew damn well that the thing in that cage was his friend no more.
    The creature’s eyes narrowed, and Nick had the impression the thing was sizing him up, trying to remember.
    “Serge,” he said, frustrated by the hope in his voice.
    The mouth split wide in a horrible mockery of a smile, then the creature lifted its palm to its mouth and sank its fangs deep into its own flesh. Nick shuddered, but didn’t turn away, and when the creature slammed its bloody palm against the thirty-six-inch-thick reinforced hematite-and-glass barrier, Nick winced and stood frozen, awed by what he saw: The creature dragged its hand over the glass, forming lines and curves on the thick barrier. Behind it, on the cement wall, Nick saw similar shapes, and as he looked more carefully, he realized what he was seeing. Mixed in among the streaks and splotches of blood were letters—A’s and V’s and K’s and L’s. Other lines swirled around those, as if Serge wanted to get a thought out, but couldn’t quite remember how. The only thing that was perfectly clear, in fact, was a single figure. The numeral three, scrawled on the wall over and over and over.
    Three
, thought Nick.
Three?
    There was a mind in there, in that creature that had once been Serge. A mind fighting to get out. Fighting hard, but not quite making it.
    With regret weighing down his steps, Nick turned away, then stopped short as a long, loud growl filled theroom. He turned in time to see the Serge-creature explode in a frenzy of rage and fury, tossing itself at the thick glass, pounding and battering it. The transparent wall held, but the power of the creature’s blows shook the walls, and the seams and joints trembled.
    The thing was getting stronger. The cell wouldn’t hold it for long.
    He glanced at the eight-inch-square opening twenty feet above, now covered by a steel plate firmly bolted in place. It was opened once each day and small animals were dropped through, food for the monster. There were no other openings in the cell, none even the size of a pin, and as soon as the trapdoor closed, the seal was rendered airtight.
    So far, there was no evidence that Serge had regained the ability to shift into mist, but Nick had a feeling it was coming. His mind was returning along with a level of control; soon his powers would follow.
    A
mind, Nick corrected, because that wasn’t Serge. The thing in that cell would rip Nick’s head off the instant it had the chance. No, the bond of friendship went only one way now. Nick hoped that he was strong enough to see this through.
    He turned, giving the beast his back, the echoes of fists hammering against the cell walls seeming to pound inside his own body.
    One step, then another.
    He reached the first door, keyed in the access code, and waited for the thick steel to open.
    The second room was