They’ve tried countless times to get me pregnant artificially, all in an attempt to create clones of my healing ability.
As far as I know, none have succeeded. It would be a special level of hell to be born into a place like this, harvested and used for parts.
I hate that my blood gives a temporary boost and acts like a cure-all for almost any illness.
Even as we talk I have a needle in my arm slowly draining me.
“I don’t know what you want me to say? His father is dead.” I killed him myself.
“I want a detailed physical description.” Her pen is poised and she blinks slowly, waiting for my response.
“Fur. Claws. And big ass teeth.” I’m done trying.
She’s not going to let me see any more of the cam footage. And I’m not participating in their little science experiments.
Her jaw clenches before she lets out an exasperated sigh. “I swear Jenny, sometimes it’s like you hate the human race. Don’t you want to help?”
I shift forward and snatch the pack of cigarettes off her lap. “Gosh, Veronica, it’s almost like you’re pretending to give two shits about me.”
The flare of the lighter stands between us for a moment before I replace it with a puff of acrid smoke.
There’s always that moment when I can catch the whiff ofhisburnt fur every time I light one.
His last act was to save me.
And I shot him for it.
“That went well?” Hudson’s nostrils flare when he greets me, the leather seams of his bullet proof vest creak from beneath his uniform.
He can’t hide his racing heart beat every time he sees me.
I won’t acknowledge it. Nor the fact I can hear his stiff inhale when I’m horny.
He knows.
No one else on the staff is supposed to be altered, they have a strict human policy.
Maybe it’s so there isn’t anyone who sympathizes with us, the test subjects.
But he’s managed to be here for years.
He’s also the only one who acts even slightly interested in me as a person.
Hmm. He could be a plant?
At this point, I really don’t care. There’s no one but him to talk to.
“I got to see a short video of my son.” I bounce happily next to him as he escorts me back to my room.
Jail cell.
The impervious prison where I wait for my next round of torture.
His amber eyes squint, matching the subtle rise to the corner of his mouth. It’s nearly impossible to see through his thick beard. “I still find it hard to believe he’s as old as you say he is. You look too young.”
“Forever eighteen,” I groan.
There’s a cursed side to my rapid healing. I never age.
