The Wolf Within (The Wild Side)

by M. J. Scott

  “Oh, be quiet,” he said, sounding bored. “I don’t fuck humans.”

  I curled my knees up as far as possible, trying to expose less of myself to him.

  “Of course, I can’t say the same for my compatriots but they’re fairly obedient. When I tell them to behave. Do you want me to tell them to behave? Look at me when you answer.”

  I dragged my eyes to his and nodded, fighting not to throw up for real this time. I swallowed hard, tasting bile.

  “Hear that?” Tate said, turning his head toward the doorway. “You’re to play nice. Ashley here is going to be a good girl.” He tightened his grip on my hair and tears trickled from my eyes. “Aren’t you, Ashley?”

  I nodded again, watching as a man and a woman, both dressed in black, stepped into the room. The woman was a vampire. At least, that’s what I assumed from the blood stains she hadn’t bothered to wipe from below her lips.

  Like Tate, she looked fairly ordinary. Dark brown hair pulled back from her face, pale skin. Her eyes were brown and she smiled in delight as she saw me huddling on the floor. “Pretty,” she said, turning to the man beside her.

  “Boss said, behave,” he replied but he too watched me with enough predatory interest to make my skin crawl. His eyes were pale blue. A familiar blue. God. He was the were who’d snatched me.

  Out of the uniform, he didn’t look ordinary at all. He had the sort of pretty boy blondness that would make Jase sigh in delight. His body was taut under the black t-shirt and pants and he’d completed his look with long knives strapped to each thigh. They shone dully in the dim light, making it hard to look away from them. A lovely shiner bloomed around one of his eyes.

  I wondered who had hit him, hoped maybe it’d been Bug. Or me.

  It was just as likely to have been Tate. Or maybe pretty boy liked things rough. His vamp friend looked like she definitely did.

  I had no time to continue speculating. Tate hauled me up again and pushed me toward the duo with enough force to almost make me cannon into them.

  The vamp caught me. “Easy, Pretty,” she muttered as I squirmed away from her. Her grip tightened. Nails painted the same color as the bloodstains on her face dug into me.

  “Take her to the doc,” Tate said. “Tell him I want the works.”

  “Doc’s no fun,” the man said with a grin.

  “Doc first, fun later,” Tate said.

  ***

  I didn’t have much of a chance to take in my surroundings as they half-marched, half-pulled me down a long corridor. The walls were dark brown paneled wood and well-worn dingy linoleum covered the floor. I stumbled when one of my toes caught in a hole in the surface.

  The vamp let go of my arm, would’ve let me crash to the ground but the man caught me. His hands were warm, and my skin tingled as he touched me. Definitely a were. “Stupid humans,” he said, righting me. “Boss spends too much time on them.”

  “You going to tell him that?” the vamp drawled.

  “Bite me,” he replied good-naturedly.

  “You wish.”

  “I’d rather bite Pretty here,” he replied. The hand that gripped my arm wandered briefly, squeezing viciously at my breast. I tried to pull away, only to have the pain worsen. I planted my feet, unwilling to give into their games. These two were scary, and I didn’t doubt they could hurt me, but they were normal everyday supernatural scary. Not like Tate. Being with them was an improvement.

  The man squeezed again then his hand moved back to my elbow. “Now, now Pretty. Boss told you to be good.”

  “He told you to be good, too, Rio,” the vamp pointed out, hands on hips. Rio shoved me in her direction, smacking my ass as I lurched forward.

  “Go with Elvira here, Pretty.”

  “Don’t call me that,” the vamp snapped. She grabbed my wrist and starting walking again, pulling me along. I followed as quickly as I could, trying not to mind that I could feel Rio’s gaze. It made my spine crawl but not as much as the cool grip of the vampire’s hand.

  Of the two of them, Rio struck me as less dangerous. Sure, he probably wanted to rape me but the vamp would hurt me, possibly kill me, if she started playing. Werewolves weren’t known for killing in human form. Of course, these guys worked for Tate so they were probably not exactly high on the sanity scale.

  We turned left when the corridor forked. I tucked the directions away in my head. With each step away from Tate, the terror he’d inspired eased a little and I could think again. Getting the lay of the land might be useful later on. I looked for any landmarks as I mentally counted steps. But the walls were all the same unbroken paneling. If there were other rooms behind them, the doors were well-disguised.

  The only distinguishing feature at all was the fact the air in the corridors smelled vaguely like mud, making me wonder if we were underground. Certainly we’d passed no windows. Obviously interior decoration wasn’t high on the list of priorities for your psycho vamp these days. Then again, maybe Tate wasn’t as crazy as I thought. Wherever I was, it was organized. And he had people working for him. Surely you had to be functional at some level to manage henchmen? Somehow the thought wasn’t comforting. Crazy was one thing, but if Tate was sane, then his actions were even more terrifying. I refocused on counting steps, needing the distraction to keep the fear away.

  I’d reached four hundred steps, with another left turn and a right before we came to a halt. The vamp hovered her palm over a spot in the wall and a door slid back.

  “In you go, pretty.” She planted a hand on my back and shoved. I stumbled forward, blinking in the glaring white light while I regained my balance. It was some sort of laboratory, the walls lined with glass cabinets and various pieces of medical equipment. An examination table stood in the center of the space. It was fitted with restraints.

  Fear bloomed in my stomach again, cold spikes racing along my nerves, weakening my knees. The air smelled like antiseptic. Which was better than mud; but the strong smell combined with apprehension to make my stomach heave. I clamped my teeth shut, sucked air in through my nose as the room whirled around me for a moment. Gradually I regained control.

  Across the room, a gray-haired man wearing a black lab coat was perched on a stool drawn up to a metal counter, looking at something through a microscope. He lifted his head as the vamp cleared her throat. His rimless glasses glinted under the lights, his gaze dispassionate as it met mine. I might as well have been the specimen he’d been studying. He looked past me to the two standing behind me. “What’s this?”

  “Boss’s new toy,” Rio said. “He said to give her the works.”

  “Already?” The man sighed, pushing his glasses up further up his nose. “Fine. Leave her with me.”

  I didn’t hear any movement behind me.

  “I said leave her.”

  “Pretty might try and run,” the vamp said.

  “Then I suggest you lock the door behind you, Kyra. It’s not like she can get far from here.” He frowned at her, sounding impatient, like a man explaining something to a dense child.

  Kyra made a hissing sort of noise that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  “You can’t make me leave,” she spat.

  Interesting. Obviously the doctor—if that was what he was—and my two escorts weren’t exactly sharing the love. But I wasn’t stupid enough to assume that meant he was on my side. After all, he was working for Tate. What I needed to do was figure out how not to become the ground meat in the sandwich.

  “Really?” The man’s stare grew colder. Kyra snarled but she didn’t move. The doctor shrugged. “You know you just interfere with my work, Kyra. Go find someone else to play with.”

  That earned him another hiss but footsteps retreated behind me then a sliding hum suggested the door had closed. The doctor came out from behind the counter, went to a drawer and drew out a package, tossing it to me. “Here.”

  I examined the package. Some sort of hospital gown wrapped in plastic. Clothes. Anything was better than standing arou
nd naked. I ripped open the package and shook out the papery fabric trying to figure out how to put it on.

  As I tied ties and tried to get the gown to cover my butt, I watched the doctor. Just because he’d kicked Rio and Kyra out didn’t mean he’d turn out to be an improvement over them. I’d already spotted a tray of nasty looking medical instruments near the examination table.

  He ignored me for a minute or so, while he pulled things out of cupboards and lined up stuff on trays covered with those green cloths you see on the hospital shows. Including a bunch of vials like the ones they use when they draw blood. Except that there were about fifteen of them, far more than I’d ever had taken from me by any real doctor. All of this made no sense. Why did a psychopathic killer vampire need henchmen for, let alone a medical staff?

  “What’s all that for?” I was proud my voice didn’t shake when I spoke.

  “You wouldn’t understand.” He walked over to the examination table. “Come here.”

  I stayed where I was.

  He looked at me and sighed. “I suggest you do what I say. After all, I can always call Kyra and Rio back. They enjoy making people cooperate, even if their methods get a little excessive.”

  His tone told me I wasn’t likely to enjoy their ministrations. Obeying him seemed like the lesser of two evils at this point. I walked over to the table but didn’t climb up on it.

  Up close the doctor had mild blue eyes and a face that might have seemed kind if he hadn’t been holding one of the biggest syringes I’d ever seen.

  I eyed the needle reluctantly. “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Doctor Smith.”

  Smith? Yeah, right. Hello, fake name. But maybe it is his real name, a little voice inside my head whispered. He didn’t need to lie if they didn’t intend me to get out of this place alive.

  I shook my head, squashing down the doubts. There was enough going on without me screwing with my own mind.

  Dr. Smith pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket, hooked it around his neck and moved closer. He smelled like antiseptic and some old-fashioned cologne—like the one Bug’s friend Stanley wore. A weird combination of pine trees and sharp spices. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, stripped and beaten up,” I said.

  He didn’t smile. Okay, no sense of humor. But I had to try and make some sort of connection with the guy. My skin didn’t tingle around him, so he wasn’t a were. He didn’t move like a vamp and I’d never seen a vamp his age—most people chose to turn young.

  So maybe he was human. And if he was, then maybe I could get him to help me.

  He put the syringe down on the table. “Can you be more specific?”

  “You’re the doctor.”

  His hand swung out and backhanded me, hard. It hurt. A lot. Like the side of my face had just been pushed into hot oil or something. Tears ran down my face as my cheek burned with a deep aching throb and I struggled to breathe. The shock of realizing that, human or not, the doctor was firmly on the side of the bad guys sent my stomach into freefall. How was I going to get out of this?

  “Answer the question, young lady. Or I will let Kyra and Rio back in.” He strapped a blood pressure cuff round my arm and started pumping it up as if he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary.

  “My face hurts.” It was all I could think of.

  He raised an eyebrow and I stepped back instinctively, hitting the edge of the table.

  “Stay still,” he said. “And sit.”

  I sat and tried to obey. It was hard. I’d started shivering again. I didn’t know whether it was shock or fright or the after effects of whatever they’d used to knock me out.

  The doctor didn’t seem to notice, just kept pumping the cuff until it reached that almost painful point, and then he did the weird stethoscope thing doctors do to take blood pressure. “What else?”

  “I feel sick. My shoulders hurt. I’m cold.”

  He nodded absently then removed the cuff. Then he started interrogating me about my medical history. One question after another about my diet, my health, my parents’ health. On and on until my head started to hurt even worse than it did already.

  “Why do you need to know all this?”

  “Research.”

  “What sort of research?”

  He frowned at me. “You don’t need to know. Lie down.”

  Despite my better instincts, I did. I should’ve listened to my gut. Quick as a snake he had one of my hands clamped in the restraints, snapping the heavy leather cuff closed.

  I tugged at it. “What are you doing?”

  He’d moved around the table. “I said, lie still.” He grabbed my other arm, twisting it so white fire lanced up my elbow and bicep. I stopped struggling and bit my lip, trying not to cry out as he released the pressure then secured that arm as well.

  Another strap went across my waist, pinning me to the table.

  Dan, I thought desperately. Jase. Anyone.

  “Good.” He walked to my feet, grabbed an ankle and pulled my leg down before tying it in place. He repeated the action, leaving me helpless.

  “You’re not pregnant?”

  I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

  “You’re sure?”

  Another nod.

  He pushed the gown up out of the way and I closed my eyes. Whatever was about to happen, I didn’t want to see it. Something cold was sprayed on my abdomen then I felt the prick of a needle, a big needle. It slid through my skin like iced acid.

  “Please,” I said. “Don’t.” I didn’t know what I was asking for. “Please,” I repeated and my voice cracked. The pain of the needle ceased and the sudden relief made me dizzy. Maybe the worst was over.

  Or maybe not. I heard the doctor move and opened my eyes to see where he’d gone, wanting to know where the next hurt was coming from. He had moved a few feet away, put the empty syringe neatly into a disposal unit on a nearby bench. A tidy maniac. Just what I needed. Turning back to me, he wheeled a metal trolley back over to the table and pulled up a stool.

  “I’m going to take some blood now,” he said. Another needle stung my arm, adding to the pain in my abdomen and face. I turned my face away.

  “Squeamish are you?”

  “No.” I’d just had enough. Sweat trickled down my forehead, mingling with the tears and only the thought of choking on vomit was keeping me from throwing up. I grew dizzier and dizzier as he clicked vial after vial into place until eventually everything went black again.

  ***

  I woke to feel a hand on my breast, teasing the nipple. I murmured a protest and the grip turned hard and painful and someone laughed.

  “Like that do you, Pretty?”

  My eyes flew open. Kyra was leaning over me, watching me curiously. She’d cleaned the bloodstains off her face but her breath, hot in my face, smelled like Tate’s, like rotting meat. I gagged and she smiled as I tried to move, tightening her fingers until I felt nails pressing into my flesh. I was still tied to the table in the lab. I turned my head but I couldn’t see the doctor. Just Kyra.

  “Doc said you fainted, Pretty. Said you needed sleep. But I can think of better things to do than sleep, can’t you?” Her other hand came to rest on my abdomen then drifted lower. I screamed when she touched me. It hurt my throat.

  “Boss said to leave her alone, Elvira.”

  Rio. I never thought I’d be thankful to see him but at this point, I’d take whatever rescue I could get.

  Kyra hissed at him but withdrew her hand and I almost started to cry again in sheer relief.

  Rio came into my field of vision, standing at the foot of the table. “Are you going to behave if I untie you?” he asked, staring at me. “Or will I leave you with Elvira here?”

  I licked my lips, swallowed to ease the burn in my throat. “I’ll behave.”

  “Don’t think he’s any better than I am,” Kyra said softly. “Rio likes to play too.”

  I shuddered. “Tat
e doesn’t want me hurt.”

  Both of them laughed.

  “Is that what you think?” Rio said. He’d undone both restraints around my ankles and I slid my legs closed but didn’t make any other movement. I wasn’t free yet and even if I had been, I doubted my legs would hold me up.

  I felt terrible, worse than before if that was possible. My stomach throbbed where Smith had done whatever he’d done with the needle, my face ached and even though I was lying down, the table seemed to sway beneath me. It was an effort to follow the conversation. “That’s what he said,” I managed.

  Rio laughed—not a nice sound. “He told us not to play with you. Doesn’t mean he won’t.”

  Fear snaked through me again but I was getting used to feeling scared and tried to push it away. Two more rapid movements and my hands were free. Rio unbuckled the strap around my waist. I sat up cautiously, pushing the gown down to cover my thighs and he let me.

  My head spun as I straightened and I took deep breaths.

  “Don’t faint, Pretty. You never know what might happen when you’re asleep.” Kyra said nastily. She moved away, wandering around the lab, rattling things out of sight while I tried to obey her instructions.

  I could feel Rio watching me from the end of the bed but I didn’t look at him. Instead I tried to see anything in the lab that might give me a clue as to where I was or even the time of day.

  The tray the doc had been using was still beside the bed, another discarded pair of gloves crumpled on it beside a tourniquet band and two syringes.

  Two syringes?

  I frowned. One of them was small, normal sized, unlike the other, which still held a little blood. My right arm, where he’d taken the blood ached and I knew I’d be bruised but had he given me something else? Shit. I looked down at my arm but I couldn’t see any other marks.

  “Doc said you have to drink this,” Kyra said.

  I jumped, I hadn’t heard her come back. She was holding a paper cup filled with yellowish liquid. “What is it?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Relax, Pretty. It’s just Gatorade.”

  I took the cup and sipped. It tasted like Gatorade and suddenly I was ridiculously thirsty. I gulped half the cup down.