Wrenching Fate

by Brooklyn Ann

  Judas Priest’s “You Got Another Thing Comin’” rang from the charger upstairs. Silas sighed. She’d forgotten it again. After going upstairs to fetch it, he used her phone and called her friends. Their responses were the same. They hadn’t seen her since school let out. Sylvis provided the most help, pointing out that she’d seen her car remaining in the parking lot long after school.

  “She had a meeting with her advisor about the automotive program,” she added. “I bet she went to talk to the instructors after that. Have her call me when she gets home, ‘kay?”

  “All right,” he choked out in desolation and hung up.

  Silas reached out again with his mind to touch Akasha’s Mark. At last, he felt it. The Mark was faint, though, and likely miles away. His fears were confirmed. Either she had abruptly decided to leave him, or more likely she had been taken. For the first time, he wished it had been the former.

  Silas growled in frustration at all the time he wasted and dug his phone out of his pocket to call Razvan. If the COAT had her, he’d need help.

  “Akasha is gone,” he said as soon as his Maker answered.

  Razvan cursed. “And you were just summoned to trial by the Elders. I too received a copy. This is the last complication we need. I will be on my way.”

  “Meet me at the college. Her car was last seen there.” Silas thanked the heavens that Razvan could fly fast and grabbed his sword along Akasha’s spare keys on his way out the door. No matter what it took, he would get her back.

  The sight of the Roadrunner, abandoned and forlorn, gripped his chest with fear and sorrow. The dark green paint looked black in the darkness.

  He remembered the unabashed joy on Akasha’s face when she opened her eyes to see that car in the garage on Christmas. He remembered her loving work on every detail of its restoration. He remembered her squeal of delight when she first started the engine. But most of all he remembered her constant pacing and anxiety when her prized possession lingered in the paint shop for a week. It must be killing her to know that her most precious possession was stranded here for thieves, vandals, or a tow truck.

  Taking a deep breath, Silas placed a palm on the door and focused. He received a quick flash of Akasha examining the car for scratches.

  “No…not what I need,” he whispered and forced his powers to a finer point.

  Suddenly, he caught a faint scent of dried blood…and something else. He crouched down and sniffed. The smell was coming from the asphalt by the fender. He detected only a few drops of blood… and the scent was overpowered by a strong chemical odor.

  “What have you found so far?” Razvan landed next to him.

  “Shhh! I need to concentrate,” Silas hissed and put his hand on the asphalt, willing the images to come. There!

  A needle plunged into Akasha’s neck. She fought. Struggled. Collapsed. The men in black uniforms shoved her inside a yellow cargo truck. Two got in back with her. The other two walked to the cab. One cradled a broken finger and whined, “When we get this bitch to Richland, they better get me a doctor.”

  “They took her to Richland,” Silas said, mind racing in impatience. “It’s in the TriCities. They drugged her. That’s why I couldn’t feel the Mark. It’s at least a three hour drive.”

  “Then we had better depart now.” Razvan’s black eyes were filled with worry as he headed to the Barracuda.

  “Hold on.” Silas pulled out his phone and called Jonathon Greenbriar, his new doctor. He ordered the doctor to come to the school and pick up his car, bring it to his house, and wait there. “And have your medical supplies ready to treat a human,” he added. Hopefully that would be an unnecessary precaution.

  “We will be taking Akasha’s car.” He grabbed his sword from the backseat of the Barracuda. “I know she’ll want to see it as soon as we get her back.”

  “But will they not recognize it?” Razvan asked with a raised brow.

  Silas sighed as he unlocked the Roadrunner and placed his sword on the floorboard behind the driver’s seat. “I am going to try to avoid it, but my thinking is that if they know where she attends school, they know where she lives. They’re more likely going to be looking out for my car more than this one.”

  “Very well.” Razvan opened the door and got into the passenger seat. “I do hope we get her back, McNaught, because if we do not, the Elders will destroy us all.”

  As they sped down I-90 towards Washington, driving as fast as Akasha had when she broke in the new engine, Silas gritted his teeth and vowed. I will kill them all.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Akasha awoke to feel something digging in her arm. She tried to raise her hand to slap it away, but couldn’t. Steel manacles held her down on a flat surface. Her eyes flew open to see a mad scientist with bushy white hair drawing her blood out of a syringe plunged into her arm. The sight made her skin crawl.

  Only Silas had a right to her blood.

  The thought broke as the scientist lifted a tape recorder in his other hand and spoke into it. “Subject is conscious just two hours after her second dose…”

  “What the fuck are you doing to me?” Akasha demanded, hating the choking fear in her voice almost as much as her drugged helplessness.

  He removed the needle and eyed her calmly. “I’m taking another blood sample to see how you’re breaking down the tranquilizer so fast. Your metabolism is amazing. You’d be able to drink a burly Irishman under the table.”

  Hmm. So that’s why I’ve never had a hangover. Akasha shook off the fascination as her situation hit her clearly. The COAT guy had her strapped to a table and was using her as a fucking lab rat!

  She was in a hospital gown. They’d removed her clothes. Disgust at the violation had panic clawing her throat. She struggled and bucked against the restraints in desperation to get loose. The table groaned in protest.

  “It’s a good thing I calibrated the restraints myself. They were actually planning on using standard handcuffs on you,” the scientist commented. For a second Akasha thought she saw a glimmer of pity behind his thick glasses.

  He grabbed a rubber ball from his instrument table that was wired up to a gauge of some sort and nudged it toward her right hand. “Would you please squeeze this as hard as you can?”

  If she could have moved her wrist enough she would have thrown it at him. Akasha was tempted to tell him where he could put it, but kept her mouth shut.

  Maybe she was curious as to what the gauge reading would be. Maybe it was because he said “please.” Maybe it was because she didn’t have anything better to do.

  She worked her fingers around the ball and squeezed. The dial on the gauge flew to the right, but the glare of the overhead lights prevented her from seeing the actual numbers.

  The scientist chuckled as he wrote down the results. “Wonderful!”

  “I see she’s awake,” another voice interrupted.

  A man with a graying buzz-cut and built like a brick-house entered the laboratory. His left hand had stubs for fingers. The utter loathing she saw in his hazel eyes made her bite back a retort. This guy was out for her blood. She hoped he wasn’t the one in charge.

  “What have you got for me so far?” He addressed the scientist with militant command.

  “Oh plenty, sir.” The scientist scooped up at stack of notes and his tape recorder. “I’ll tell you over coffee.”

  “Dammit!” Akasha growled when the men left her alone. The big hostile bastard was in charge. She was screwed. Eyes darting around her surroundings, she looked for escape. It looked like a typical television show laboratory, only much smaller and it had no windows. No escape.

  Her arms still stung from the IV and assaults from various needles. Akasha raised herself as much as she could, the muscles in her back protesting at the awkward angle. Gritting her teeth against the discomfort, she assessed the damage to her body.

  Everything seemed to be where it belonged, except for the damn IV embedded in her forearm where either drugs, nutrients, or both were
being pumped into her. Also there were few little red squares on her legs where patches of skin had been removed. Shit. How long have I been out?

  Another thought occurred to her. Shouldn’t I have to go to the bathroom? Akasha spotted the catheter bag hanging from a stand and had her answer. Her skin crawled in revulsion. She hadn’t felt this violated, this unclean since…

  Uncontrollable tremors wracked her body as she relived her past rape. With the screams of an animal caught in a trap, she thrashed and struggled against her restraints. A red haze obscured her vision, overlaid with black spots as she hyperventilated.

  The shrieks dissolved into mournful howls as the restraints held firm. Still she bucked and fought until her muscles gave up and dizziness forced her to head to drop back onto the table.

  Gulping in air, she closed her eyes and did her best to replace her panic and the crippling memory with Silas. A measure of warmth returned to her limbs as she remembered the vampire’s sweet lovemaking.

  Moments later, the shaking died down. Akasha took a deep breath and resumed her observations to try to find out what else had been done to her.

  There were little wires attached to her head. She craned her neck to see that they were attached to a monitor that showed what looked like voltage spikes in a constantly changing pattern. They were measuring her brain waves. The table was hard and cold, and the IV and wires poking out of her pinched like insect bites. What else are they going to do to me? Or are they done and ready to kill me for the sake of national security?

  Akasha growled and struggled uselessly against the steel bands. Escape seemed more impossible every second. Silas must be worried out of his mind. Her throat ached as tears burned her eyes. She would give anything to see him again. Anything to be in his arms… to hear his thick Scots accent whispered in her ear when they made love.

  “Oh Silas…” she whispered brokenly.

  Silas! That’s it! If his powers were as strong as she thought, he just might be able to find her… if the bad guys didn’t find him first. They would no doubt salivate at the thought of having a vampire on their examining table. Still, these mere mortals should be no match for an immortal Scottish warrior.

  Akasha focused her mind and began shouting his name silently, pausing every few seconds to listen for a reply, or any other sign that he heard her.

  Silas had to find her. He just had to. She clung to the gossamer thread of hope like a lifeline.

  ***

  Agent Joseph Holmes tried to keep calm eye contact with Major Milbury as he sipped his coffee and explained the test results. Holmes now knew why he’d allowed him to study the girl so readily, despite his obvious resentment.

  Milbury intended to kill him when the testing was over.

  Joe Holmes had come upon the information by accident while searching for instructions as to the kind of testing the military wanted done on Akasha. All he’d found were vague orders from over ten years ago. Since Milbury wasn’t around to be asked, Joe accessed the Major’s personal files to see if he’d received anything current.

  To his shock, Holmes discovered Milbury hadn’t been corresponding with the military at all.

  Milbury was pulling a lone ranger on this project and intended to submit his findings after he’d destroyed the mutant along with everyone involved with the research…which was only Holmes and— though he was pretty sure Milbury didn’t know— Holmes’s daughter, Lillian.

  Holmes had been secretly sending his findings to Lillian through a heavily encrypted server. But if the COAT found out, she would be in danger. He pushed his coffee away, his stomach churning with terror.

  How Milbury was planning to get away with the murder of a high ranking FBI agent, Joe didn’t know, but he supposed it didn’t matter. How to get out of this mess alive was his primary concern. Holmes fixed Milbury with what he hoped was a calm, scholarly gaze.

  “To do the most conclusive tests, I’ll need her out of restraints. We need to see how much she can lift, how hard a punch she packs, et cetera,” Holmes informed him.

  Milbury glared. “I’m sure she’d like to demonstrate that to us all personally. I don’t want to end up like that corpse you have in your lab.” He shook his head. “She’s too dangerous. I think we’ve learned enough.”

  Joe fought down panic. “Don’t be too hasty, Francis. This young lady is one of a kind and I believe we’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg with her. If I can persuade her to cooperate, we can gain data that will make you a shining star in the eyes of our country.”

  Holmes hoped he hadn’t laid it on too thick. He counted on Francis’s pride being wounded enough by being cast off to a low-profile case after losing his fingers. The promise of being valued again might sway him.

  “That’s a very big ‘if.’” Still, Milbury’s eyes glimmered with interest. The stubs of his fingers twitched.

  Holmes plunged on, struggling to keep a wheedling tone from his voice. “She seemed genuinely interested in my findings. And her school record indicates that she does very well in science classes. I just may be able to nurture that interest enough to get us somewhere.”

  Francis sighed and waved an irritated hand. “Very well, I’ll give you twelve hours. Do what you can, because afterward she will be eliminated. Those are my orders, after all.”

  “I’ll need a little longer than that.” Holmes fought against the invisible noose of time, which tightened every second. “It’ll take twice that to get the results of half the tests! Give me twenty-four, at least!”

  Milbury’s lips twisted in a furious scowl. “Sixteen,” he countered rising from his seat. “You’ll have to do what you can with that. I’ll need time to get a flight out of here tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Sir!” Joe hid his disappointment and gave him a mock salute he knew would annoy the Major.

  Milbury rolled his eyes and slammed the door.

  Joe sighed. Sixteen hours to come up with a plan to escape armed guards in an isolated compound on a dry flat prairie. He hoped Akasha would cooperate. He quite liked the girl and decided he would try to save her life as well.

  After all, she could be an asset to the AIU, if he played his cards right. He wondered if she was fertile like her father or sterile like the other test soldiers had been. Thankfully, he had the key to find out.

  ***

  “She’s in there,” Silas whispered, pointing to a drab gray building surrounded by a fourteen-foot high electric fence.

  Two armed guards walked the perimeter at a steady march.

  They’d hidden the car in an old barn a half mile away when Silas felt Akasha’s Mark growing in intensity. He and Razvan covered the city— if you could call it that— on foot. They clouded the minds of mortals so they weren’t seen.

  “How many humans can you detect in there?” Razvan asked.

  “Ten, not counting Akasha,” McNaught replied, pacing like a caged lion. “Rather peculiar, don’t you think? I would figure with what they know of her, they’d have more people involved.”

  Razvan chuckled. “Who cares? It’s better luck for us. They will be an easy feast.”

  “Aye. But I dinna want tae rush into this blindly. It could be a trap. And ‘tis only an hour before dawn.”

  Every inch of Silas’s flesh crawled with anxiety. He’d tried to contact Akasha mentally and received no response. Had the drugs given to her by the COAT blocked her mind?

  “Then let’s observe the place a little longer. Perhaps we’ll overhear something useful from the guards.” Razvan tried to reassure his friend and fight his own growing unease.

  Just as the sky began to lighten, the two guards joined each other for a cigarette break. One of them had his hand in a cast.

  “The Major gave Holmes another sixteen hours with the freak,” the other remarked, kicking a tumbleweed at the fence.

  “Dammit!” the wounded one snarled, struggling to light his cigarette. “I want to see the little bitch dead! I may never be able to handle a rifle again thanks to her.” />
  “Chill out, Wetmore,” the first guard said impatiently. “It’s not like he’s gonna let you do the honors. I think it’s gonna be me or Orson. But he might let you bag the body. He said he wants you to schedule the transport, anyhow.”

  “Shouldn’t the paper-pushers be handling that?” Wetmore whined.

  “He sent them home. The less witnesses the better y’know.”

  Wetmore smiled. “Sixteen hours ‘til there’s a bullet in her brain. I can hardly wait.”

  Silas choked and tried to move forward, but Razvan held him back and dragged him out of earshot.

  “Did you hear something?” the first guard asked.

  “Probably a coyote,” Wetmore muttered. “This damn hole’s infested with ‘em.”

  Silas panted heavily in fear. “Sixteen hours? I dinna think tha sun will be down by then!”

  Razvan nodded. “We have no choice. At least it’ll be past high noon. We may be able to get in there with only a few burns. Come, McNaught, we had better get to shelter now.”

  They moved swiftly back to the barn, which thankfully had a cellar. Silas spotted sheets billowing on a clothesline in the distance. They resembled eerie ghosts in the graying desert landscape.

  “Stop, Razvan!” he called, “I have an idea.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  When the scientist who introduced himself as Agent Joe Holmes told Akasha that Major Milbury intended to kill her when the experiments were done, she wasn’t surprised. But when Holmes informed her that he was with the FBI and head of the Abnormal Investigation Unit her eyes whipped to his in astonishment.

  “But what are you doing working with the COAT?” Her eyes narrowed in accusation. “Isn’t the FBI supposed to be protecting American citizens rather than killing them?

  Joe coughed uncomfortably and looked at the floor. “Actually, I was the one who led him to you. I didn’t know he was going to kill you!” He spread his hands defensively, face flushing in shame. “I just wanted to study you.”