“Kas, no!” I shouted.
It was too late. All of them fired on him at once. I screamed. Yes, screamed. But I also dove for Kaspian. I never made it. Men grabbed me from behind and restrained me. Astoundingly, Kaspian kept going. He took hit after hit and still delivered his own. And his strikes were far more effective. Soldiers went down left and right. There were just two problems—more soldiers took the places of the fallen and they weren't shooting bullets.
Darts turned Kaspian into a giant porcupine. There had to be some kind of sedative in them. And yet, he didn't go down. Instead, he roared again, brushed off the needles, and rushed the men holding me.
Something inside me responded to Kaspian's rage. Strength shot through me along with an insane urge to tear all of those people apart. I elbowed one guy in the gut while Kas grabbed another by his throat. Men went tumbling. Sorry for being sexist. There might have been some women among them. I don't know. I wasn't looking for curves in those suits. I was too busy punching people. While naked.
Blood sprayed. People shouted. Darts hit me. I felt a tingling that wasn't good. Lethargy seeped into my veins. Still, I kept fighting. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. Fear helps too. The combination kept me on my feet far longer than I should have lasted. But the drugs won in the end.
I crumpled onto a pile of bodies. As I fell, I saw several people restraining Kaspian. He was still roaring. Still fighting. And his wild stare was locked on me.
“Mate!” Kaspian shouted.
“Kas,” I whispered and passed out.
Chapter Eighteen
“Mr. Gabris?” A pause. “Mr. Gabris, are you awake? Sir?”
I groaned and opened my eyes. Someone had strapped me to a hospital bed, but not the usual sort. This one was sturdier. They had me sitting up, my wrists and ankles fastened to the bed with thick leather buckles of the sort used in psych wards. I saw them and instantly thought I had to play this cool. They thought I was insane. So, I had to act as rationally as possible.
“Yes, I'm awake. And I don't know you. But you seem to know me. Care to introduce yourself?” I cracked my neck and slid a quick look around the room.
It was not a hospital room. The medical instruments laid out on sterile pads were not the kind you'd find lying around your average hospital room. The table they were on was steel, a metal cage covered the overhead light, and the walls were concrete. Not very calming. The guy speaking was blond and wore glasses. He also wore a lab coat, as did his three buddies who stood behind him. But he was the only one with a clipboard. Clipboard equals man in charge.
The blond boss lifted his brows above his glasses. “I'm Dr. Watkins. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, besides being strapped down and unable to scratch my nose. Why is it that as soon as you can't scratch, you need to scratch?”
Dr. Watkins and his friends chuckled.
“Where is your itch?” Watkins asked.
“Right above my left nostril.”
He scratched my nose for me. “That better?”
“Actually, yes. Thank you. So, now can you tell me why I'm strapped down?”
“Well, uh.” Watkins glanced at his friends. “We've done some blood work on you, My Gabris.”
“Why would you do that? I’m not injured. Unless it happened when a bunch of Rambos busted into my house and abducted me and my guest.”
“Yes, that was unfortunately necessary. You see—”
“I'll take over from here, Dr. Watkins,” a woman said as she came into the room. “Why don't you check on our other guest?”
“Ah, Ms. Shin. Thank you.” Watkins stepped back and hurried from the room, his friends following.
Two men with guns strapped to their waists came in behind Ms. Shin. The woman was tiny, dressed in a red suit, and had her dark hair cut to her chin in a pin-straight bob. Very stylish. She scared me instantly.
“I assume your other guest is my friend,” I said. “Is he all right?”
“He's fine, Mr. Gabris.” She stepped up to the bed. “I'm Susan Shin. I won't give you my title because then I'd have to kill you.”
I snorted a laugh.
Ms. Shin did not laugh.
