by Eve Langlais
Could it be true? Was he truly free to get up and move around? Investigate and talk to the very people who’d taken him prisoner? A suspicious nature meant he sought an ulterior motive.
He said he wanted me to spend time with the people here. Implying there were more than a few. A whole bunch of monsters in one place. Surely the man jested. It seemed like a recipe for a horror movie.
With me as the guy getting murdered and eaten. Only if he lay around and allowed it. Get your ass moving.
Oliver rolled out of the bed and stumbled, his limbs a little stiffer than expected. How long had he been knocked out? He didn’t ask and had no way of telling. He glanced around the ugly motel room. The kind that Norman Bates and his mother would have loved.
On spaghetti legs, Oliver made it to the door, placed his hand on the knob, and hesitated. What if this were a trick? Perhaps the plan was to make him think he could open that door and just walk away. Surely if he tried someone would stop him.
But what other choice did he have? There was only one other door in the room, gaping wide on a bathroom patterned with ancient beige and brown tile. A quick peek inside showed a window too small to squeeze his ass through.
The choice boiled down to sit around like a victim or walk out the front door. With his heart pounding harder than the time he smuggled a USB stick with stolen information from a dictator-controlled country, he yanked open the door and blinked at the bright daylight outside.
Nobody screamed a warning. Shots weren’t fired. He stood unnoticed in the warm sunshine. He’d guessed correctly about this being a motel. The room he emerged from boasted a blue door, the paint peeling and faded in places. It matched the other doors running the stretch of the long building, each one in a different primary color—yellow, green, blue, and red. A few doors had plastic chairs—the woven kind that gave unsuspecting bare legs and butts waffle skin— sitting outside them on the concrete walkway.
The parking lot appeared rather empty with only two vehicles in it. One was a large suburban with tinted windows. The other a navy blue sedan.
Hearing laughter, Oliver glanced to his left and noticed a few picnic tables sitting on scraggly, long grass bordered by a thin line of trees, just enough to screen from the road that went past. Not a very busy road given he’d yet to see a car. Just past the table he noted a chain link fence and a shimmer of water indicating a pool.
There were people milling around, such as the man tossing a squealing child in the air while a woman watched them. Another fellow stood by the pool’s edge, holding a towel in his hands with another one draped over his shoulder. A steady creak, creak drew Oliver’s attention to a swing set, the chains swaying back and forth making the noise. Sitting on the plank, pumping her legs was someone with a familiar face—and horn.
Emma! Elation filled him, along with relief. Which struck him as strange. He barely knew the woman, not to mention she was technically still a monster. So why would he worry about her well-being? Probably another effect of the drug.
He should be more concerned with how he could escape and gather proof to bring with him. Obviously, this many mutants in one spot could only spell trouble. Maybe even a coup. Was Oliver present at ground zero? Could he stop it from spreading?
His gaze roved again, taking in details, realizing that to speak might condemn the lady with the baby to incarceration, possibly death. Everyone he looked at appeared so damned human.
Even Emma, who still pumped her legs and laughed when she reached the apex of her swing.
Oliver didn’t realize he still stared at Emma until her gaze met his and he saw the smile on her lips fade. She intentionally turned her face from him.
Shunned him.
His happiness at seeing her deflated. Anger rose in its place. Anger that she rejected him? Surely not. Probably it stemmed more from the fact he’d been taken prisoner and interrogated while she played on the swing, not worried about him at all.
Which probably wasn’t fair to her. After all, what could she do?
She could have checked on me. Then again, why would she? At their last confrontation he’d essentially ignored her wishes and attempted to broadcast her existence to the world. Would she ever understand he’d done it to help? Perhaps once her secret got out, she could get real treatment, starting with the removal of the thing that made her different. Once she fit in with everyone else, she’d thank him.
Or was that wishful thinking?
Funny how as she hopped off the swing it wasn’t her glittering horn that drew the eye but the shape of her. Womanly in her jeans and a snug Henley shirt. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a silken wave that dangled down her spine. He got a nice view of her swaying backside as she walked away.
For some reason the fact that she shunned bothered him. “Emma?” He called out her name, and he thought for a moment she would continue to ignore him. However, her shoulders squared, and she pivoted on her heel to walk in his direction.
She didn’t wear a smile, though. “You finally woke up,” she stated when she got close enough.
“No thanks to your friends and their drugs. How long was I out?”
“A while. And you’re lucky to be alive. They dosed you with some powerful stuff.”
“Strong enough to take down monsters.” The comment slipped past his lips, and he regretted the words, even as he couldn’t stop them.
“What is wrong with you?” She recoiled, and he felt like a heel, but that didn’t stop him from doubling down.
“Wrong with me? Are you really going to go there? Is that why you stole my phone in the first place? So you could call up your monster buddies to come get you?” he accused.
Her gaze turned frosty. “They came looking for me because they heard there were survivors from the helicopter crash.”
“Yeehaw, they found you. In case you didn’t notice, they also kidnapped me.”
“I’m sure they regret it.” She crossed her arms, her expression clearly saying she regretted it, too.
It didn’t help the irritation simmering inside. “They’re going to kill me.”
“Oh, gee, kind of like what you planned for them?” The arched brow showed no sympathy.
Probably because he was being a selfish ass. “Aren’t you suspicious at all about their intentions? What do they want from you?”
“To keep me safe.”
“And you believe them?” he barked, more harshly than he should have.
It only served to angle her chin higher. “As a matter of fact, I do. And before you say it, yes, I might be wrong. Probably am given my history with trusting people. I mean, after all, I trusted you. And what a mistake that turned out to be.”
The barb stung. “I never hurt you. The video never made it online.”
“Only because you didn’t get the chance. You’ve made it clear you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” The truth.
She clearly didn’t believe it. “Liar. I know you hate what I am.”
There was no denying that part. “What happened to you is not your fault.”
“How condescending of you to say that,” she replied with heavy sarcasm.
“I was going to get you some help.”
“What if I don’t want your kind of help? Did it ever occur to you that I’m happy how I am?”
He gave her an incredulous look. “How can you be happy? You have a horn sticking out of your head.”
“And? I think it’s pretty.”
Glinting in the sun as it did, held majestically aloft, he actually couldn’t disagree. “You let that doctor convince you to keep it.”
“He didn’t have to. Dr. Chimera accepts me for who I am. Everyone here does. The only person who thinks I should change is you.”
He flattened his lips. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Actually, you are because you would see me and everyone else connected to the Chimaeram Clinic locked up or worse.”
“Don’t talk to me about being locked up. Your
precious doctor kidnapped me and is keeping me prisoner here.”
“Doesn’t it suck to be you,” she muttered. “I mean look at the cage he’s put you in. The chains you have to wear. The awful gowns and gruel and the endless needles… Hold on, I’m thinking more of what humans would do if they got their hands on me. Oops. My bad.”
His turn to grit his teeth. “Why must you be so…”
“So what, Oliver? Feisty? Am I not being docile enough? Would you like me to be the monster you keep accusing me of being? Sorry. Can’t help you there. I’m a vegetarian, which means your flesh is safe from me. But I can’t guarantee Luke won’t eat you.” She jerked her head in the direction of the man approaching them.
“Is this asshole bugging you, Ems?” asked the fellow, his hair waving into wild tufts that should have looked stupid but gave him a rugged air.
“Oliver is just a bit grumpy because of his long nap.”
“Lucky bastard. I haven’t had a straight three hours’ sleep since the kid was born.” Said with exasperation at odds with the fond expression he shot toward the child cradled in a woman’s arms.
“You are?” Oliver asked at a loss. Cerberus had mentioned names but, unfortunately, didn’t have any pictures to go with them.
“Luke.” The man held out his hand, and Oliver hesitated a moment before shaking it. Almost wincing at the tight grip.
“Oliver.”
“I know. You’re some kind of writer, I hear. Got a couple of books published.”
“A few.” Best not to go into too much detail, given his most famous stuff involved the exposing of scandals.
“Hear you’re planning to write about Adrian and the clinic.”
Oliver wanted to lie because he saw the dangerous glint in Luke’s eyes, but fibbing would probably be worse. “I am. Thinking of calling it Chimera’s Secrets.”
Laughter barked out of Luke. “Oh, he’ll like that. Named after him. Then again, that would be apt.”
“Are you one of his employees or patients?” Because Oliver couldn’t quite tell. The man appeared one hundred percent human, from his healthy mien to his fit body.
“Ex-patient. I’m all cured now.” Luke thumped his chest. “Stronger than before even.”
“What about the side effects?”
The teeth in the wide smile appeared larger than necessary. “What about the side effects?”
Oliver didn’t recoil. “Do you have any?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
Despite the situation, Oliver couldn’t help his curiosity and fascination. “Chimera told me to mingle and get your stories.”
“Ah, yes. Adrian and his stupid plan. He has this warped idea that he can change your mind about us. I think he’s full of shit, which is why I’m gonna be watching you like a wolf. And if you make one wrong step—”
“Chomp!”
The sudden snap of teeth from behind made Oliver jump, and he whirled to see a huge man with long blond hair had managed to sneak up on him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he managed to exclaim.
“Name is Marcus.” The big guy held out his hand and didn’t try to crush Oliver’s when he shook it. “Also an ex-patient of Adrian’s.”
“Another one?”
“Yup. When you write the book, you might want to mention that, because of Dr. Chimera, I went from being a guy who was a giant nerd who couldn’t get laid to the luckiest fellow alive with the hottest girlfriend ever.”
“No need to flatter me. You were already getting laid later,” Jayda shouted on her way to the motel.
“I have a hard time seeing you as a virgin,” Oliver muttered. He stared at the guy who looked like he could grace a fitness magazine cover.
“That’s ’cause you didn’t know me before the change when I was a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet with the thickest glasses you ever saw.”
Oliver eyed the guy up and down. “Jeezus,” he breathed. The transformation, if true, was startling, but that didn’t make it right.
“Please, don’t inflate his head any more than it is. Marcus is already insufferable,” Luke goaded. “Thinks because he’s part lion that he’s better than me.”
“Lion?” Eying Marcus, Oliver could see it. “What does that make you then?”
Luke puffed out his chest. “Wolfman. Awoooo.” He gave a little howl, which was echoed by his child. It sent a chill down Oliver’s back. Especially since he made the connection.
“Your kid is a monster, too?”
Oliver hit the ground hard, landing on his ass. He blinked as the delayed reaction to pain hit. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed. He’d never even seen the fist coming
Luke leaned down, the expression in his eyes flinty. “Call my boy a monster again, and they’ll never find your body.” The guy strutted off, and Marcus shook his head as he stared down at Oliver.
“You were lucky Luke’s in a good mood and Margaret is watching. If Jett would have heard you talking smack about his girls, you’d be dead.”
“Let me guess. Jett is another of Chimera’s patients,” Oliver grumbled, getting to his feet.
“Actually, Jett’s as human as Margaret. But his wife ain’t. And neither are his girls, so you might want to watch your mouth around them.”
The blond fellow sauntered off, and Emma, who’d remained silent during the exchange, gave him a look that made him shrink inside.
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you should judge people on their merits and not the DNA they carry?” she chided.
Then she left him, too, and Oliver could only watch—miserably—as everyone had fun but him because, in their eyes, he was the one with the problem.
Chapter Twelve
“I need you to try and be nice to Oliver,” Dr. Chimera—who’d insisted she call him Adrian—said when she stomped into the main motel room, muttering about stupid men.
A scowl pulled at her features. “I was trying to, but he just can’t help being an ass. He thinks we’re all monsters.”
“He is partially right.”
Her mouth snapped shut at the betrayal. “How can you agree with him? I thought we were all special. A part of something grand and life changing.”
“We are. All of us, beautiful and unique and dangerous. Which is why we cannot pretend and lie about the fact that we are different. Keep in mind I’m not just talking about biological or physical changes. In here.” Adrian tapped his temple. “The way we think, act, and feel have also shifted.”
“I still feel like me,” she insisted.
“Of course you do. However, that doesn’t mean that you are the same. When I first met you, you were shy and beaten down. The Emma we rescued from that alley never met my gaze. You kept your head ducked, your words emerged soft, and you had difficulty using the word no.”
“Because I used to be scared.”
“And now you’re not. Why?”
She frowned. “Because I know you won’t hurt me.” At least, so far as she knew, Adrian hadn’t. “And I can protect myself from people who do.” Sphinx had learned that lesson too late.
“Speaking of protect, you didn’t hurt Oliver.”
“I almost did at the ruins. Your people stopped me.”
“Yet before he pushed you over that edge, you held back, even though he scared you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Which was only a partial truth. She didn’t fear him per se, but what he might represent terrified her.
Adrian shook his head. “Don’t lie. I know you are scared. The man threatened to expose you. He wanted to see you captured. Locked away.”
“Just because he wanted it didn’t mean it was happening.”
“Because you acted. You said no.” Adrian smiled triumphantly. “Old Emma would have taken what he dished as her due. New Emma doesn’t let people walk all over her anymore. New Emma stands up for herself.”
“If I’m so self-centered now, then why didn’t I let him die? It would have been better for me if he had.” Y
et even now, she knew she couldn’t do it.
“Compassion is not a failing, Emma. You didn’t let fear or anger control you. You acted and did what you felt was right.”
“But was it right?” She still wondered if she’d made the right choice.
“Everything happens for a reason.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Since when do you ascribe to a Zen-like philosophy?”
Adrian shrugged. “A lot of things have been coming clear of late. We are entering a phase in our lives where our choices will decide our future.”
“Choices like letting a guy live, even though he’s determined to convince the world monsters should be erased?”
“A man who might surprise us yet.”
“Doubtful. Oliver hates us.”
“Now who’s passing judgment?”
She sighed. “I don’t know how you think keeping him around will change his mind.” He didn’t see her as a woman or even a person.
“Well, it certainly won’t happen with that attitude. If you expect him to give us a chance, then we need to give him one, too.”
“And what if we just reinforce his belief?”
Adrian’s face hardened. “Then we do what we must to keep ourselves safe.”
Emma knew what that meant.
Kill Oliver and bury him deep enough no one would ever find the body.
The thought brought a sad pang. But how else to avoid his death? Adrian seemed to believe they could change his feelings, and in that moment, she believed it was never going happen.
A theory she revisited when, over the next few days, Oliver not once tried to escape. He went into silent observation mode, sitting outside of the motel, pad of paper in his lap, a sentinel keeping watch as they got fresh air.
He scribbled again at night, listening as they discussed their plight and researched some of the news and social media tidbits Marcus dug up online.
Apparently, before they took over the dilapidated motel, they were living in the tropics until Jayda got a hold of her dad, Dr. Cerberus. The man had been kidnapped months ago from the clinic and finally resurfaced. But he’d changed.