Destiny snarled. “Doc Allison cares for us. She was upset when we denied her request to use a female’s scent to see if 880 would respond. I think that is why she took him and she is hoping to wake him. It wasn’t the right thing to do but I refuse to accept that she did it to give him to someone who would kill him or use him to do us harm.”
Tim shook his head. “I won’t be surprised when we get a call for ransom at the very least.” He stared grimly at Justice. “I’d make funds available in case that happens. My team will handle the exchange. That’s the best outcome I can think of at this moment.” He paused. “We should release her photo to the news stations and let them know what his real condition is just in case I’m right. It’s better to cut the snake’s head off before we feel the bite of its venom. The last thing we need is the CDC showing up thinking we’re hiding some kind of disease or to have jackasses calling the White House to whine.”
“No.” Justice sat up straighter in his chair. “We don’t want anyone to know she kidnapped a Species. It would put a target on them for our enemies.”
“She’s already working with them.”
“Tim,” Tiger growled. “We’re stressed enough. We’ve been over this and decided to avoid media attention. This is a Species matter until we know otherwise. The fewer who know, the better. We have to at least consider that the note she left was true. She may have taken 880 in some misguided attempt to help him. We’ll find them but we’ll do it as quietly as possible.”
“Fine.” Tim threw up his hands in frustration. “Don’t listen to my advice. That’s just what you pay me for. If she’s so saintly then she’d call us when she sees her face plastered all over every channel, knowing how dangerous it just got out there for her.” He shot Destiny a glare. “Your Dr. Allison is in deep shit.” He stared at Justice next. “I’m not putting on kid gloves when we find her. She kidnapped a New Species and put his life in danger.”
“I know.” Justice sighed. “Do whatever you need to, quietly, to recover our male.”
* * * * *
The female climbed into his bed, pressed against his side, and 880 was aware of her small size. More feeling had returned to his body but his limbs refused to answer his commands. Under the covers the fingers of his left hand curled though, a sign he had worked past the drugs paralyzing his body.
Why was the female sleeping next to him? Where were the human males who tormented him daily? The mattress under him was different, softer than the one he’d grown accustomed to. His sense of smell was slowly returning as well, with faint hints of unfamiliar things.
The female carried a sweet aroma…but strange. Her body heat wasn’t strong. She must be cold, but why didn’t she just leave his cell if the cooler temperatures bothered her? A horrifying thought crept into his mind. What if the human guards had forced a new female into his cell?
They’d once introduced 46 into his life by locking her inside his room. The technicians had told him she belonged to him. They wanted them to breed to see if having children was a possibility. They had been young at the time and he’d cared for her. They didn’t get along, both of them were strong willed, but they’d depended on each other. Her loss filled him with rage.
The technicians had sworn he could share a living space with 46 as long as he lived if he did as they ordered. He’d mostly agreed to their tests and hadn’t fought the technicians too often unless it became too painful. The consequences of those refusals had caused 46 harm. They used her to punish him by hitting her or giving her drugs that made her sick. It amused them to see him worry when his female grew weak. He’d learned quickly to suffer anything they did to him to protect her.
Things had changed though one day. They’d been drugged, moved while they slept, and had woken in a new place. He didn’t understand what they wanted from him anymore. The new technicians were crueler and they didn’t care if he obeyed or not. They’d taken 46 away despite his obedience, only to bring her back sick. Needle marks had assured him they’d given her drugs and she’d weakened. The food he fed her wouldn’t stay inside her stomach. He hadn’t done anything to anger them into killing her, yet they had.
A small hand slid over his chest and drew his attention. The new female’s touch was soft against him as she rubbed a small patch of skin over his heart. Her body pressed tighter to his side as she shivered, obviously cold, and used him for his body heat.
“Day one didn’t go so bad, did it? I just wish I’d thought to bring a radio or a television. You might enjoy listening to them instead of me.” She rested her cheek on his chest near her hand and soft strands of her hair tickled his arm. “I’m kind of boring. I’m sorry about that. If you were awake, you’d probably say something like ‘Alli, please shut up’ or maybe ‘Alli, you need to get a life’.”
He pondered her words. She had a name but it was a strange one. He mentally repeated it a few times, trying to determine if he’d ever heard it before. Alli. It wasn’t familiar.
Silence stretched and he wiggled his toes. They twitched and hope flared that he’d battle off the effects of the drugs soon. He didn’t think he’d ever been down so long before and he was alarmed. Normally his body was strong but he didn’t feel that way at the moment. He detested weakness.
“I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed but it gets cold here at night. I also worry without the machines monitoring you. I’m right here if you get into trouble and I’m a light sleeper. I figure you will also get accustomed to my scent better if I’m this close. I just wish you’d wake. I’d be so happy if that happened. I want you to sit up and talk to me.”
I would as well. He moved his fingers again. His toes twitched. He held his breath a few seconds before continuing the steady rate, in case she noticed. She might alert the technicians and he decided to hide the fact that his body was recovering until he knew where he was, who she was, and why they’d put this new female with him.
Her hand slid a little lower to his ribs, explored them, and his body responded when blood filled his cock. It had been a long time since he’d shared sex—too long—and guilt welled inside him. 46 had died. He shouldn’t want to mount the new female.
“You’re really worrying me. I’d guess you’ve dropped a good forty pounds since you were brought to me. You’re a big guy but this isn’t healthy. Every day you stay down is just one more that it’s going to take you to recover. Please fight to come back. I know how sad you must be.” She paused. “I was really in love once but he died. I was such a mess for a long time after that so I get it. I honestly do. You wonder why you should keep living, what the point is, but I’m glad I kept going. He wouldn’t have wanted my life to end because his did.”
Her soft fingertips and palm slid higher to his heart. She burrowed tighter against his side and a soft breast pressed against his ribs. He breathed in her sweet scent—not arousal, but nice.
“He died suddenly. It was such a shock because he was so full of life.” Her voice changed as emotion softened it. “I shut down too for a few months. I never thought he could die, he was just too animated, and it was beyond imaginable that anything could take him away from me. We had planned to spend the rest of our lives together until that car accident.”
A warm, wet drop landed on his skin and he realized that she cried. It stunned him and left him disconcerted. He inhaled slowly and tried to pick up any sick smell, but didn’t get anything but the sweetness he had begun to associate with the female.
“I admit I’ve kept anyone from getting too close to me since then. I don’t want to risk feeling so much just to suffer that kind of pain again. Of course as the years pass I realize I’m going to be that crazy lady with twenty-five cats if I don’t get over it.”
The surprise of her tears turned to confusion fast as he listened to her words. She didn’t make much sense. What does that even mean? He wasn’t sure.
“I’ll get over it if you come out of this healthy. You have to fight, 880. You need to know that life is worth living. It’s worth
the risk. Look at what I did trying to save you.”
He waited for her to explain that but she didn’t speak for a long time. He wanted to know what she’d done for him.
“You’ve got to come out of this.” More tears wet his skin. “I have a feeling that I’m going to be in really big trouble over stealing you from the NSO. They will probably lock me up and throw away the key.”
She’d stolen him? How? Many questions filled his mind, quickly developing into hundreds. How had she taken him from his cell? How had she escaped in the first place? Why had she burdened herself with him? She didn’t feel big enough to carry him.
He couldn’t remember anything past the day 46 had been murdered. His rage had taken hold and he’d attacked the bars. He’d refused to give up trying to reach the humans who’d killed her no matter how much he’d damaged his body.
One thing became clear. This female wasn’t his enemy. At least he hoped that was true. She could have been forced to try to lull him into a sense of trust only to calm his rage at their captors. They’d need to find a new way to control him if they still needed him.
The fingers of his left hand actually fisted and he squeezed. He wasn’t going to allow the female to know he was regaining the use of his body. He’d remain meek, wait for the perfect moment when he was stronger and strike then. Their captors would pay for what they’d done to him, 46, and the female at his side.
She yawned and nuzzled her cheek against him where her head rested. He knew when she drifted to sleep as her breathing slowed. His left foot moved.
Chapter Four
Allison forced her excitement down. 880’s foot had twitched again when she’d given him another sponge bath. He had ticklish feet. His penis had also jerked when she’d had to shift it to clean him. Of course that could have happened when he was at Medical at NSO Homeland. Destiny might not have reported it, thinking it was meaningless or embarrassing. No-movement reports should mean that he was completely unresponsive.
She dried 880’s body, covered him and finished the morning routine she’d kept for the past few days. His color seemed better. It might just be wishful thinking, but she’d take it. In a few days she’d have to use that disposable cell phone to call the NSO to pick him up.
They’ll pick me up too. Fear gripped her hard. She had risked her career, her medical license, and far worse. They could send her to prison for a few years at the very least for kidnapping or a judge could put her away for life since any transgression against a New Species might be deemed a hate crime.
New Species were protected. They’d been given special status after hate groups had attacked them and a worldwide outcry had been made. The public had watched as Fury—one of the New Species—had taken bullets meant to kill his fully human wife. Things like that tended to piss off people. Fury and Ellie living together had been huge news and their romance was often commented on since they continued to thrive.
She personally knew the couple and could state with ease that they were deeply in love and happy. Envy welled over how close they seemed and how well matched they were despite their different backgrounds. Love had conquered all in their situation and it was romantic. They’d had a baby boy she personally adored when he was brought to her for his checkups. Salvation was the spitting image of his father and living proof that some things had a happy outcome.
“I’m going to take these towels and washcloths outside to let them dry in the sun and dump the trash.” She tucked the blanket more firmly around his waist, left his chest bare, and hoped he was comfortable. “It’s getting warm, isn’t it? That storm blew away and left us some nice sunshine.”
He didn’t answer and it was depressing. Her hope faded daily that he’d ever open his eyes. She’d tried to save him by following her hunch that scent could reach him but he would have shown some improvement if it were that easy. A loud sigh passed her lips. She grabbed the trash bag next to his bed and the pail of water with the discarded washcloths.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” The statement made her bite back a snort.
It was a beautiful day as she walked out the back door to reach the side of the house and the special trash can she’d brought for medical disposal. She dumped the bag inside it and paused in the yard. She carefully hung the towels and washcloths on the clothesline to dry. The place didn’t have a washer or dryer but it did have a huge tub in the mudroom for hand-washing items and a long rope strung out between trees for drying.
A soft hum left her parted lips as she finished her chore. She missed music. Birds flew overhead, startled from a nearby tree, and she smiled as she headed back toward the house. She was almost to the back door when movement caught her attention. She turned her head and gasped.
Four large men wearing black outfits rushed at her from behind the shed. Their faces were covered with black ski masks and they clutched big, scary guns. More sound came from behind her but she didn’t have time to glance back. Terror struck and a scream burst out before one of them reached her.
A big body hit her in the chest, pain exploded through her from the brutal tackle and she slammed hard into the ground with a lot of weight crushing her. The air was knocked from her lungs, cutting off her scream and making breathing impossible. Her attacker rolled over before she recovered.
Her face was pushed into the grass as a gloved hand fisted her hair. A knee painfully dug into her ass too. Her mind reeled between pain and shock from the attack.
“I got her!” His voice was loud as he announced that to the group.
More rough hands touched her, groped her body, her sides, and she managed to suck in a gasping breath. Her wrists were shoved in a painful position and held at her mid-back. It really hurt—the hold was too tight and the angle of her arms was uncomfortable.
“She’s clean. No weapons.”
“That was fucking easy.”
“Good thing. The only heat signatures we’re picking up are hers and the stationary one. He’s here and she is alone.”
“Find the New Species and get him.”
Terror filled her. She was sure the men weren’t New Species and it meant they could hurt 880. She struggled hard. The hands gripping her wrists jerked them high enough to cause agony and she screamed again.
Wood hit something, banged loudly, and a vicious snarl ripped through the yard. The scary noise sent her into panic mode. They had an attack dog. 880 was helpless on the bed and it could maul him. He couldn’t fight it off.
Allison struggled as though she were a wild thing, every protective instinct inside her going crazy to reach 880’s side. She threw her head back. Pain exploded through her skull when it slammed it into someone’s chin. The guy hissed a curse and shoved her head down again with a rough hand that fisted her hair. Another scream tore from her throat.
“No!” A man yelled that. The attack dog snarled again and something hit the house nearby.
“Shit!” A man screamed one word before the knee lifted off her butt where it had her pinned down.
“Don—” The other guy holding her wrists roughly jerked on her but let go.
Allison saw a black blur of movement from the corner of her eye, turned her cheek on the grass, and was shocked when one of the uniformed men landed hard on his back about five feet away. A loud snarl emanated from the vicious attack dog and he seemed to be right over her head. An image of it attacking her with sharp teeth sent panic coursing through her and her head snapped up to get a look at the thing about to end her life.
880 crouched inches away, naked and bleeding from his arm where he’d ripped out the IV drip. His nose also bled. She guessed that was from him forcibly removing his feeding tube. The catheter and bag were gone too. She got a good view of its loss since her face was inches from his lap. Her gaze met brown eyes, confusion clouding them as he stared back. His mouth opened to reveal his sharp canines. He snarled at her.
It took Alli’s staggered mind seconds to figure out that 880 was awake, outside, and had come to her
rescue. The men who’d held her down had been thrown away from her because 880 had attacked them.
“880,” she managed to whisper.
His eyes widened as he swayed before landing hard on his bare ass. Allison moved, frantic to help him, and realized the sheer amount of adrenaline he must have exhausted to reach her after being down for so long. A human couldn’t have done what he had. An ordinary man would have been too weak to sit up, but he’d managed that miracle with his New Species strength.
“880,” she whispered again, lifted to her knees and crawled the few feet to where he’d landed. “You’re awake.”
She tried to touch him but his hand shot out and hit her in the chest. The rough shove threw her back. She landed on her ass and her left breast ached from the impact with his palm. He growled at her.
“Technician.” His voice came out hoarse, his unused vocal cords straining to work.
His eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed to sprawl motionless on his back. Worry filled her and she fought to reach him again. He breathed but had passed out as she checked his unsteady pulse. Her other hand gripped his arm where he bled from the torn-out IV and she pressed her thumb over the wound to staunch the bleeding.
Her fearful gaze darted around at the men who had climbed to their feet. A few of them inched closer as they surrounded her. Terror hit.
“Stay away from him.” She didn’t have a weapon but she wouldn’t allow them to harm 880. “You’ll have to kill me before you hurt him.”
One of the men who marched from the barn reached up and tore at the mask that covered his face. Trey Roberts worked for the task force that NSO controlled. She’d met him a few times when he’d brought in injured Species and her mouth dropped open when she identified him. These men weren’t strangers intent on killing 880. They’d come to arrest her and take him back home.
Obsidian (New Species, Book Eight) Page 4