Charlie Willis wrapped her arms around her ribs, trying to contain the pain. That bastard Yates had a real thing for her cousin, but no matter how many times he tried to rape Charlie to reinforce his order that she help him find Kennedy, he couldn’t get it up.
Not that she looked forward to her beatings, but seeing him frustrated helped. He was humiliated; she remained unviolated. It was a quasi win-win—if she discounted bruises and broken ribs.
As if Nivia’s telekinetic beatings hadn’t been bad enough.
Her warped sense of humor seemed to improve the longer she remained with Lang and Smith and their bevy of criminals who tortured “in the name of science.” No matter how many blood, tissue, and hair samples they took, they still couldn’t seem to nail down how her brain worked. The many brain scans Lang had done yielded him little in the way of results. Since he didn’t want to chance interfering with her clairvoyance, he’d thus far refrained from cutting into her brain. But it was only a matter of time before he dissected his way into her future.
Until then, she had a plan. One Kennedy wouldn’t like, but Charlie could only take so much. And while her cousin was finding love among the beasts, Charlie was tired of hurting. Self-sacrifice was all well and good so long as the end game promised survival.
Another day passed. Then another. No sign of her cousin. The beatings continued. But what scared her most: she healed without help from anyone. And they beat her even more. Then they drugged her, forcing her to sleep.
Charlie’s days consisted of pain, sleep, and more pain.
After a bland lunch of noodles and a limp salad, she waited in her room for a dreaded meeting to occur. Instead of Yates or Myers this time—thank God—Dr. Lang joined her in the lab. So, well, not much better. But at least Smith hadn’t come. He gave her the creeps bigtime.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve come.” Lang waited. He could wait until hell froze over. She didn’t use her abilities unless he forced her to. “Unless you already know why I’m here?” More silence. He sighed. “So you continue to deny your talents.”
Yep. Just like she kept denying that freaky new consciousness inside her. The one she’d foreseen a very long time ago, during one of her rare instances of distant foresight about herself.
“Fine.” Dr. Lang sighed again. She didn’t understand how he could look so normal yet be such a vile piece of humanity. He fiddled with his glasses, a sure sign of his agitation. “It’s time we had Kennedy back. I’m sure you’re aware that Robert Yates has been unable to have intercourse with you.”
“Intercourse?Really? Is that what you call it?” How she managed not to laugh in his face was a mystery. “I’d call it rape, Dr. Lang.”
He waved a hand, dismissing her correction. “The point is, my new formula has worked. I’ve been able to identify and isolate certain receptors in the male Circ’s brain which are attuned to mating. In this way I’ve introduced Kennedy’s genetic material to match to his. Or at least, to convince him that she’s his only mate. His beast now identifies only her a potential breeder. And the Circ’s prime objective is to procreate.”
“I thought killing anything that moved was its prime objective.” From what she’d seen of the fiends around here, that was what she’d come to believe.
“No. The Circ is a creature all about perpetuating its own species. To that end, it eliminates threats around it before endeavoring in conception. The other packs I created see this as a safe place, hence their desire to—”
“Rape.”
“—impregnatetheir females.” He frowned. “The others in the B series aren’t as set on Kennedy, not like Yates is. But for them to be successful, I’ll need her back. Make the call.”
She knew he expected her to refuse. As she’d been doing since Kennedy had escaped. “Fine. But I want a few conditions met before I do.”
He blinked in surprise but rebounded quickly. “What are they?”
She listed them, and though not understanding—not yet—he acceded, as she’d known he would.
“Fine. But that call must occur as promised, with delivery of them both.”
“Palmer and my cousin. Right. No problem. But you hold to your end.” She smiled, focused, and saw a potential future. Then she lied. “I hope you realize your future depends on me having mine.”
He studied her, as if unsure. But what could he say? His best bet was to keep her alive, at least long enough to capture Alexander Palmer and Kennedy.
Kennedy would forgive her at some point. And if not, well, at least she’d be alive. Mostly.
Probably.
Hopefully.
Charlie swore and prayed she hadn’t agreed to do something irrevocable.
