An angry but determined expression took over her face, and her lip started to bleed from her gnawing. A bead of moisture dragged itself through the thick make-up on her brow.
An answering spike of anxiety shot through me, and my own trickle of sweat drizzled into my eye. Despite the fact it was cold enough inside this room to freeze a pillion’s hooves to the ground mid-flight from a viper, my body flashed hot.
Why the hell was she taking so much blood?
Tina popped off the vial and then clicked another into place. Each tube drained a bit more of the scant fluid I had left.
“That’s enough,” I gritted out.
Her lips twisted. “You don’t get to decide that.” An expression I could only call sly took over her face. “We need to see if Khal’s pumping action took effect. Tell me, is he any good? I’d like to give him a try.”
Good luck with that, honey.
“Okay, I guess that’s enough blood for now,” she said after giving me a long pause to reply. She withdrew the needle with obvious reluctance and released the tourniquet while handing a guard the needle. Straightening, she gathered up the vials and placed them in a tiny basket, which she lifted and tucked over her arm. “If we need more, you’ll be happy to donate, am I correct?” Her snide look took in the guards, who snickered. Pivoting, she swayed toward the door, calling out over her slender shoulder, “We’re through here, gentlemen.”
That last bit was highly debatable.
Her salivating groupies followed her out into the hall. The door banged shut, and the lock clicked into place.
Rising from the bed, I staggered and clutched my spinning head. Blackness crowded in but I shook it away.
Like every other time she’d stopped by for a visit, she’d taken great pleasure from slowly leeching me dry.
Unable to rest, even though I knew I should after the blood-letting, I paced the room, telling myself I was not concerned about Khal.
But when the cell door banged open, and Khal was shoved inside by the burly guard, my heartrate eased.
Stepping back, I faced the open door with a tight backbone, a lifted chin, and my gaze shooting daggers. The latter the only weapon I possessed in my human form.
Hartlin stood at attention in the hall, his chest stretching his overly-starched uniform. He ruined his pristine appearance with a glare sent my way.
What had I done, now? Or was this another dose of his usual I’m in charge here and you’re not crap? In addition to his fists, this man thrived on dealing intimidation.
That sniveling piece of armatote dung, Smithton, hovered beside Hartlin, half-bouncing on his low heels while rubbing his hands together and leering at me. What was he doing here, anyway? He hung behind Hartlin like his own personal shadow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was on purpose.
But he was too stupid for that.
The creep looked more like a radiation-mutated swamp slag about to pounce on an unsuspecting teromotan, than the compound’s supposedly intelligent Commanding Officer.
A coil of tension inched up my spine, because I had to wonder what this was all about. But I held myself motionless, not doing anything to give away my nagging concern.
This had to be about more than them returning Khal to our cell after a brief questioning.
Since they didn’t appear to have beaten him—that I could see so far—then it must mean they’d pulled him aside because they wanted something else from us both.
Had he already given it to him?
I hated that I immediately jumped on the notion he’d betray me.
In spite of my best intentions, I was beginning to care for him. But I’d long since learned to trust no one outside a few close friends and the meager remains of my family.
Holding my face in a neutral expression, I sent another quick look in Khal’s direction. He stood with his back to the hall, looking the same on the surface as when I’d last seen him, but he stared at me with what I could only read as apprehension in his eyes.
The ball of tension in my belly scrunched even further, but I’d wait until everyone else left before asking him to explain.
My churning intestines suggested I didn’t truly want to know.
The door banged closed, leaving us alone.
He strode over to stand directly in front of me, as if he had purpose, but I knew damn well from the way his lips tightened that he wasn’t about to give me a sentimental kiss.
I wasn’t sure I wanted one, anyway. My back bristled when I remembered what happened in the caves. What I’d done with him. To him.
How I’d begged.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“What?”
His gaze narrowed, and he huffed out a sigh. “You know what I mean. Pull away from me.”
“I’m standing here. Right in front of you.” Feeling the welcome heat of his body. Ignoring the lust and relief flowing together through my veins just because he was back here beside me.
Do not give in. Not again. You can’t trust anyone.
But best intentions had a way of getting thrown aside when my heart was involved.
He leaned in further, until his cheek brushed mine.
I closed my eyes and held in my tremble.
“Lyrie.” Khal’s voice was light enough, even a wint—purported to have hearing ten times better than a human’s—wouldn’t be able to make out what he said. “We don’t have much time.”
For what? I opened my eyes to gape up at him.
“They’ll be back soon to take us to the caves.”
“Why?”
“It’s part of the deal I made.”
So, I’d been right? I shoved aside the crushed feeling spreading through my chest, and, while a worm of apprehension edged into my voice, I also kept my tone low. “What deal?” What had he promised them?
“They know you can shift.”
Furious, I whirled away from him, flinging my hands up into the air. “You told them?” How could he?
He frowned, and his wave of dismissal damped down my ire somewhat, but it still simmered. “They already knew.”
All that bloodwork, as I’d guessed in the caves. Over the past weeks, they’d poked and gouged and tested me for everything imaginable under the sun. And for a few things beyond that, no doubt.
They must know more about my genetic make-up than my own mother. And more about me than I’d known myself.
Shoulders easing, I slumped down on the side of the bed. My lean, bruised butt protested the lack of cushion, making me wince. “Then we’re cooked, right?” I’d been hoping to keep that tiny, fragile part of myself secret.
To protect it—her.
And to use that hidden side of me in the future, when the time was ripe. To escape? Maybe. Mostly, to rip every single one of them to shreds. Starting with Hartlin.
Fury made me clench my hands into fists, and my nails dug into my palms
Khal sunk down beside me and moved in close again.
Why did he keep doing this, tempting me? Putting himself in a position that implied we had something special. That we meant something.
It wasn’t like we had to fuck again. Not until after they’d tested to see if the first time took.
There wasn’t much chance of that, though. Since Khal had pulled out before coming.
I was the only one who’d exposed myself by falling apart in his arms.
I understood his motivation. The gods knew I had my own hang-ups about my past and about sex. It hadn’t been easy letting him into my body.
As well as into my heart.
He turned so his chest partly blocked me from the door and leaned forward, as if to give me a hug.
My breath hissed out, but I held myself in place.
We had to do this. Kiss. Touch. Show them we meant business.
If only I didn’t want this to mean so much more than Regime business.
“I told them about your bobcat,” he said loudly.
I reeled back, my brows lifting. “Bob
cat.”
“They weren’t able to see you fully in the caves, and Hartlin was particularly keen to know what you can change into. What kind of child—” His soft gaze fell to my concave abdomen, “What kind of child we might produce.”
A child they intended to snatch out my arms and use for their vile experiments. I’d thought initially they planned to steal a fetus from my womb, but now, it seemed they’d stepped up their plans and wanted a living baby.
There was no way in all seven hells I’d give them my innocent child. Protection for the tiny bean that could, despite Khal’s attempt at birth control, even now be growing inside of me made me place both hands over my belly.
It wasn’t just Khal I was worried about. How could I keep a possible baby safe from their clutches?
Their damn cameras, planted all over the prison. They watched me. Watched us. Even now.
Had they spied with glee when Khal and I were together? Or, in Smithton's case, not just with glee, but with a hard-on tenting his pants. I’d seen the outline of his miniscule appendage often enough to make me eager to hurl, as it spiked against the fabric of his trousers while his minions beat me within an inch of my life.
That man got off on more than just plain old sex.
Khal’s grunt erupted between us. “Hartlin had the nerve to laugh about the fact you’re only a knee-high bobcat, but I believe he’s underestimating your potential, sweetheart.” Shifting back slightly, he winked.
I masked my grin with my hand.
So, they didn’t know about my griffin, after all. Joy surged through me, almost as satisfying as when I’d watched my mother standing in the—
“But they want us to fuck while shifted.”
My bubble of excitement burst, splattering the walls red with blood. Like the site of my mother’s murder, after the Regime—
“I told them—”
“I won’t do it.” Standing, I stalked over to the closest camera and glared up at it, my heart pounding a furious rhythm against my ribcage. “I’m not fucking anyone in my…bobcat form. You can’t make me.”
Sadly, they wouldn’t have to. They could tie me down and send that other shifter in to get the deed done. He’d be willing to do it, even if Khal refused.
But I’d use starvation as a way out before I let them do that to my griffin. She was the only thing left inside me that was perfect and pure.
I’d rather die than let them force her.
Khal came over and lifted my hand. Kissed it, like he had when we first met, back when I would’ve rather smacked and clawed at him than let him touch me. Maybe I did have a speck of bobcat inside me, after all.
“Come sit back down. Ignore them,” he said gently, somehow knowing that this was the only thing I’d respond to: his kindness. It beat back my anger for the moment.
I hated how torn I felt about him. Overwhelmed with the urge to give him whatever he asked, while somehow clinging to that unending need to protect the soft, squishy core that made up Lyrie.
Not that Lyrie was my real name. As the whips flayed my back, the demands for information chanted over and over, the name I’d heard in my dreams of freedom burst from my lips, as though it had the power to protect me. “Lyrie. I am Lyrie.”
I would never go back to who I’d been before. That woman was as dead as her abusive husband.
We sat, and Khal put his arm around my shoulders. With a soft sigh, I leaned into his warmth.
I’d finally figured out what was going on here. He didn’t intend to woo me, because that wasn’t his way.
He wanted to share his plan while keeping his intentions hidden from the prying cameras. But I appreciated that he also chose to comfort me, because sometimes, especially lately, I needed it.
We were in this together.
I just hoped he had a solid plan.
Shifting around on the bed, I bent up my knee and put my hands on his shoulders. Playing for the camera’s benefit, but needing to keep this between us, I inched closer, implying I ached to share a kiss.
Which, in some ways, I did. It wasn’t only me who wanted Khal.
My griffin did, too.
In him, she’d sensed her match.
As if he was our chosen mate.
But that couldn’t be true. I’d heard enough about these shifters to know that their mating ritual began with a touch that was anything but simple. Khal and I hadn’t felt a thing outside of combined preservation when he’d laid his hands on me. None of the electric zings I’d read about when I’d lived with the Resistance.
Khal and I were not bonding. And the ongoing lack of electricity said we’d never bond.
Was there a chance for anything other than random fucking and pseudo-friendship for us if we would never be more than just forced parents?
Time to face the hard facts. Despite my eagerness—no, longing—for more with this man, it would never happen.
Best to get me pregnant and then demand they set Khal free. If I told them I’d destroy the unborn child, then I’d have something I could use to force them to free the man I…loved.
“We’re going to the caves, and I’m going to teach you how to shift into your bobcat,” he said.
“I won’t do it with you that way,” I said, trying to inject all my anger with the Regime into my voice, but a knife of defeat kept gouging inside me, poking holes in my assurance. “You know I can’t.”
“I told Hartlin my cheetah would fuck your bobcat.”
Which I didn’t possess. Hmm. I liked this plan already.
“On one condition,” he added.
Maybe I didn’t like this plan already.
“Do you really think they’ll follow through on anything they agree to?” Easier to assume they’d cheat. Like always.
“No more drugs.”
“They’ll still put moodar in our food.” That was a given.
“No. They’ve agreed no drugs of any kind, as something’s affecting my shifting, and we’ll never be able to do it.”
He leaned close and this time, he kissed me. His tongue parted my lips, like he’d cracked open my heart already.
Warmth swirled inside me, and I wanted him all over again.
Pulling away, I sucked in air fast. Put mental distance between us.
Did the regime know how I felt about Khal? Would they use it against me.?
They’d be stupid not to.
Taking both my hands, Khal tugged me near again.
His lips trailed along my jawline, and, even though I knew this was a performance for Hartlin and Smithton, I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and shuddered in his embrace. A heady warmth spread through my limbs, and my cold-induced quivers eased.
“Why the caves?” I couldn’t suppress my shiver at the thought of where we’d soon take up residence. It was cold here, but it was dark, damp, and isolated down there.
“They actually suggested the caves, since you…responded so well when they put you there last time. And I told them that what they wanted—cat sex—was impossible because you didn’t know how to shift. Hartlin thinks the caves were a turning point for you, that you’ll be able to master the skill if they trap us down there longer.”
Trap us. More quakes shook my bones.
Khal urged me up onto his lap and held me. He said by my ear, wint-softly, “They also said they’d blocked off all the exits before they put you down there.”
I leaned away to stare up at him. “That’s not—”
He placed his fingertip over my lips and said, well below a whisper, “I believe they missed one.”
Chapter Twelve
Khal
L yrie’s stifled moans each time she shifted cut through me like the pain was my own. But she persisted. If fact, she was determined to change more swiftly, more often, than I thought smart, pushing her frail body to extremes.
As soon as the guards had shoved us back in the cave, we’d bolted, trying to find the elusive source of the waft of fresh air. But the catacombs stretched endlessly, and we
were slowed by our human forms. Hartlin had warned that, in exchange for the removal of the drugs, guards would check on us three times a day, and we’d be expected to present for visual inspection. Therefore, our time to explore limited, we were soon forced to retrace our steps.
True to Hartlin’s threat, each time the guards unlatched the heavy door at the top of the rough-hewn steps, shoving a tray of unappetizing slops across the stone landing, Smithton was with them. His flashlight ranging up and down Lyrie’s body, he’d peer eagerly into the gloom where we stood as ordered. Licking his lips, as though he could see beneath the rough synthfab of my shirt, which Lyrie still wore. Bastard. I’d known he was trouble, even when the rest of the Felidaekin and I’d been on assignment in the desert with him. In every altercation, the sniveling coward had hidden behind us. We’d only learned later that he’d deliberately endangered us to assess our shifter abilities.
Now he coveted my woman—my woman. The phrase sat right, so I didn’t argue it in my mind—now he lusted after Lyrie, and I resented every damn time Jag had counseled our captain, Herc, to exercise restraint when dealing with the slimy son-of-a-bitch. Better if Herc had followed his gut instinct and killed him when he’d caught him trying to rape Maya.
The frequent checks meant Lyrie and I couldn’t risk an escape attempt until we were certain of our energy and ability, because we’d have less than eight hours to navigate the caves and find an escape route, before the Regime realized we’d gone.
“Enough, Lyrie,” I said as she sagged against me, shuddering with the last pain of the shift. At least turning back to her human form was becoming easier with practice. And, for me, I had the bonus of her ending up naked in my arms each time.
Her head against my chest, she nodded, her breasts heaving with her labored breaths.
If she was agreeing to quit for a while, she was beyond exhausted. I scooped her up, and carried her to the crude bed we’d made from the few items the Regime had provided, moving our things further into the cave system than we had before, where I was sure we were beyond their spying cameras.
I could’ve placed her on the coarse blanket, but instead I sat, cradling her in my lap. She didn’t fight or struggle, but curled small against me, as though she could absorb my heat and strength. Not that I had any damn strength. Each time she took flight, wavering and wobbling only inches above the rocky floor, or more confidently stretched her magnificent tawny-furred legs, bolting down the dark passages, I’d wait until she’d moved away. Then, when I was certain she couldn’t see my failure, I’d try to will my own shift. Sweat pouring down my back with the effort, curses and useless promises to the gods on my lips, I knew I’d done nothing to deserve their favor.
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