The suited man waved a hand. “Our top-of-the-line research facility. Welcome.” He made it sound like Seth hadaskedto be here. Like maybe he’d signed up for a tour of the place and just wandered into this room all by himself.
The oddness of it all made Seth want to scream, but if he opened his mouth wide enough, he’d probably only vomit.
He sat up slowly, moving in tiny increments until he was perched on the edge of the cot with his feet flat on the ground. The floor was freezing against his bare feet, but apparently they hadn’t shelled out for the grippy socks to go with the gown. Seth tugged the blanket up around his shoulders. He couldn’t seem to stop shivering.
“Why am I here?” he asked, his voice wavering more than he would’ve liked.
“Because we need your assistance.”
Seth was tempted to go into a lecture about the polite ways to ask someone for help—ways that definitely did not include chloroform or its equivalent—but he opted for sarcasm instead. “You’re looking for lunchtime catering? I don’t bake under duress.”
The suited man gave a small, mirthless smile, like Seth’s attempt at humor was beneath him to acknowledge. Seth supposed it hadn’t been his best work. “Oh, nothing so taxing as all that, I assure you.”
The suited man gestured to someone outside Seth’s line of sight, and a man in a long white lab coat and goggles appeared. He was holding a small plastic bin filled with medical supplies.
The suited man pressed some button, and the glass door slidpartially open, forming a door to Seth’s room. The lab coat guy walked through, and the door shut again behind him.
Seth didn’t even think to make a run for it. He just sat there like a dummy. Not that he was sure his legs would hold him, anyway.
“Now,” the suited man said briskly. “Mr. Brown here is going to draw some of your blood. If you struggle in any way, I’m afraid we’ll have to sedate you again.”
For a brief moment, the rising fear and panic threatened to pull Seth under. His breaths sped, and his sluggish heart stalled and then jump-started, racing in his chest.
What. The. Fuck?
He forced himself to slow his breathing as Mr. Brown approached. Panicking wasn’t going to help him right now. Neither was any attempt at fighting—not at this moment, when Seth was so weak and so sick. And he’d rather they take some of his blood than drug him again.
What the hell did they need his blood for anyway?
So Seth sat still and frozen while the scientist or lab tech or whatever he was poked Seth at the crook of his arm, taking five vials of blood. Seth’s skin felt extra sensitive and tender, and the pokehurt.
A few minutes later, with a new Band-Aid on his arm, Seth watched Mr. Brown—and that was an alias, wasn’t it?—walk away. Seth’s stomach churned. It should have felt the same as any other visit to the doctor, maybe, but it didn’t. It felt so much worse.
Seth looked to the suit. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m just a regular guy.”
The suited man’s brows rose over his glasses. “Oh, I think we both know that’s not entirely true.”
But Sethwasregular. He was human. Healthy. The only thing remotely unusual about him was…
Riley. His connection to Riley.
Seth’s fingers clenched around the blanket on his lap. “What exactly do you study here, Mr.…?”
The suited man smiled that same small smile, the one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Apologies for my lack of manners. I’m Mr. Perkins. I’m a lawyer, although I believe you’ll find my duties at this facility are varied. Much oversight is needed, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Seth couldn’t imagine a fucking thing. He could barely process what was happening around him. He was trying to take it all in, but it was like the data wouldn’t compute in his brain.
He could see that there was another room across the hallway, behind Mr. Perkins. Another cell, identical to Seth’s. It was empty, but Seth could hear…noises coming from somewhere. They were muffled, but there was definitely activity happening in this building. Machines whirring and…maybe someone was growling? It was hard to distinguish, and Seth’s head wouldn’t stop pounding, which didn’t help.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Carter,” Mr. Perkins said. “You’ll be in the best of hands.”
It was the least reassuring sentence Seth had ever heard in his life.
“For how long?” he asked, hating how his voice cracked on the last word. “H-How long will I be in your hands?”
“Why, until Mr. Beauchamp comes for you.” Mr. Perkins’s glasses glinted under the fluorescents as he tilted his head. “Of course, we won’t be able to let you go right away. He’ll need incentive to cooperate. And mating bonds are so little understood, you see. Especially unconsummated ones. We must take advantage of what falls into our laps, mustn’t we?”
And then Mr. Perkins hit some button, and the intercom connection between them shut off, and he just…walked away.
