"Shit.” Jason crossed the small room in three steps and touched a cold, unwelcoming wall. What was this place? Outwardly, it hadn't looked like much, but there was definitely something to this place. He had clearly misjudged it.
He tried to make sense of what had happened as his fingers moved along the smooth, cold surface. He searched for cracks or any sort of break that might be key to escaping.
He found a crack where the door opened. He used as much strength as he could, but found he couldn't gain enough leverage to pull it open even an inch.
The door was locked tight and when Jason banged his fist against it, he wasn't surprised to find it was made of solid steel.
He turned quickly, searching for another exit, but there was none. He felt a wave of panic strike him. He wasn't the type to freak out, but he was in a dark, small room. While he enjoyed the dark and wasn't claustrophobic by any means, the enclosed area still made him edgy. Wolves didn't do well inside walls. He needed to be free.
Jason wasn't ready to admit defeat just yet. He was determined, anxious to find some way out. He slunk along the wall, fingers sliding along the unforgiving metal. But he searched to no avail. There was no way he was getting out unless the door opened, or he was able to shrink enough to climb through the air vent in the ceiling. There was a slot near the bottom of the door, probably meant for a food tray, but it was small. He certainly couldn't use it.
"Goddamn it.” His voice echoed loudly around him. He clenched his fists together and turned to face the door. The room was too small, too tight and the door too solid.
He wasn't about to let that stop him. This was no fleeting desire. He had to get out.
He took a few steps back. Charging the door would be stupid and would succeed in nothing but hurting himself, but Jason had little choice. By some thin chance, he might succeed. That was enough for him.
Don't.
The voice came again, louder than when it came to him in the Camaro. He winced, involuntarily throwing his hands up to cover his ears. But covering his ears wouldn't stop this kind of noise.
Don't do it. The voice, clearly female, softened with her plea. Don't do it. You need to save your energy.
"Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing inside my head?” he demanded, aloud. Jason waited for an answer, but nothing came. He listened, hearing his own blood pump through his veins, but the voice was silent.
Jason felt his shoulders tense and realized his entire body was shaking. His fists trembled as he unclenched them and flexed his fingers.
All around him was stifling silence. Maybe he had imagined the voice after all. Maybe he had hit his head when he fell and now had some serious brain damage.
But that doesn't explain how I heard it before, he amended. Jason let out a deep breath and waited. The voice had to speak again. He braced himself for it.
Just as he had anticipated, the voice answered. Save your energy. We all want out, but it's not time yet. We can't.
Jason blinked a few times. The voice wasn't quite as loud in his head once he got used to it.
"What do you mean by ‘we'? Who are you? What are you?” he asked, again using his words, shouting them at the ceiling. A few moments later came the reply.
Your thoughts are enough for us to hear. You do not have to speak. Save your energy.
Is this telepathy? Jason asked in his mind, feeling stupid even as he did it. He had never had this sort of psychic experience before and he didn't like it. He was starting to get a headache.
A mindlink, came the quickest reply yet. Our minds, all of our minds, are melded together.
How? Who else am I connected to?
The others are too weak to speak with you at this time, but I speak for them. There are three of us. We are in the same situation as you are, trapped, with no way out. You must save your energy.
Why the hell do you keep telling me to save my energy? Jason sat down on the edge of the uncomfortable cot. His head was really starting to hurt now. He held a couple fingers to his temple to ease the pressure.
Because you must, the female voice was earnest. You have to be strong to help us get out of here. Rest, conserve what energy and strength you have for the final push.
I have no idea what you're talking about, Jason admitted. He was confused, further adding to his headache. His experience in psychic phenomena was still quite limited. He had a few visions before, felt empathic vibes from people around him and similar actions, but never had he spoke with someone telepathically.
It was still all so new to him.
All will be explained in time, but for now, you must rest. I will leave you be so you can gather yourself. Tonight, we will push forward and leave this place.
Push what? Who else am I connected to? What the hell is going on? he demanded silently, but there was no response. True to her word, the voice had left him. Jason tried several more times to create a connection, but there was nothing.
"Fuck.” He lay back on the bed, staring up at a black ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe at a normal pace. His hands still shook and to calm them, he crossed his arms over his chest and clenched his fists tightly beneath his armpits.
He felt invaded. Whoever this bitch was, she had gotten into his mind and Jason didn't like it. It made him feel vulnerable, something he would not tolerate. It also scared him beyond all reason.
And when something scared him, it was deadly serious.
He took a few deep breaths and tried to shake away the feelings but to no avail. He could still feel the remnants of her intrusion in a dull pounding headache.
It seemed an eternity before his heart calmed to a steady rate and he could breathe normally again. The ache in his head tapered off, disappearing. He listened to the silence around him, probing with his mind to establish a connection of his own with the strange woman. He soon found he wasn't quite as adept at being telepathic.
It was just as well. It gave him a headache anyway.
Jason sat up on the cot and ran a hand through his hair. The woman's words came back to him and he tried to make sense of her cryptic warnings. What had she meant by he needed to conserve his energy? She had been very insistent on it. What was this “final push"? What did she mean by that?
He swung his legs to the edge of the cot and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. He wished the woman had explained herself more. Who were these other people? How were they going to escape? What the hell was going on? What was this place?
The questions made his head begin to hurt again, but Jason didn't push them away. A quick look around the room once again confirmed he was trapped. He didn't have anything better to do except think on it and try to figure out what the hell she was talking about.
She had to be the woman he saw in the window. He was almost sure of it. And she was definitely the one who had contacted him before, when he had been driving in the Camaro.
But who was she? A powerful psychic, no doubt, Jason thought to himself. She had to be something if she could communicate with him like that. Not for the first time since his awakening to his psychic powers, Jason regretted not learning more at the PRDI. He didn't fully approve of some of the earlier workings of the PRDI, but it was the only reliable place to get information about paranormal and supernatural events and creatures.
He owed the PRDI a debt of gratitude he hated to admit. Now that Glen was in charge, things were different, but only marginally so.
He wondered if this psychic woman had ever been to the PRDI, or if she even knew it existed. It would explain how she was so powerful, but Jason immediately dismissed that idea. Being powerful didn't necessarily mean you had learned it through study, or school.
Like himself, for example. His psychic powers had suddenly grown after an altercation with Simon Conner. When the hunter shot and left Jason for dead, he had awoken sometime after, completely refreshed, healed. There had been no explanation for it, until now. Jason was sure he had only survived because of his psychic abilities.
After that night, his impulses grew. He knew things were going to happen before they did. He got strange feelings about places, about people. He could read emotions, see visions. It was almost too much for him to handle all at once.
And now, on top of it all, this strange woman was speaking with him telepathically.
Jason felt his head began to pound again and he groaned, holding a hand to his forehead. He heard a buzzing in his ears.
If you're trying to talk to me again, don't bother, Jason warned in his mind. I don't want to talk to you.
But the voice he expected to hear did not answer. Jason shook his head, trying to shake the buzzing away. He suddenly felt dizzy and he grabbed the cot as the room seemed to spin around him. He almost lost his balance as vertigo set in.
"Oh God,” he groaned, leaning forward to avoid nausea, but it was useless. He had never felt so sick before. It was like a hangover, but much worse. He felt bile begin to rise in his throat, but he swallowed it back down.
"What's happening?” He choked on the words as they came out. He tumbled off the cot and hit the cold, hard floor. The room continued to spin around him and Jason shut his eyes. “What the hell is going on?"
We need to talk.
Jason's blood chilled at the sound of an unfamiliar, callous male voice. His fingers clawed at the floor, trying to find a hold to grab.
"Who are you?"
Everything was suddenly still. Jason's vertigo was gone, almost instantly. He lay still, hand splayed on the floor. He moved slowly and sat up. Only moments ago, he had felt sick, dizzy. Now, he felt fine. Confused, but fine.
"Who the hell are you?” Jason demanded again as he climbed to his feet. He clenched his fists to his side. “What the hell do you want?"
There was a heavy thud and Jason spun to the door. He was immediately blinded by a brilliant fluorescent light. He threw his arms up to shield his face, letting his guard down in doing so. Even if he had his gun, he wouldn't have been able to shoot.
Shadows crossed in front of the light, rushing into the room. Jason barely had time to react as two burly men grabbed his arms and dragged him forward. He fought, struggling as they pulled him out of his dark cell and into the light.
Jason ceased his struggles when he found even his half-blood strength did not affect them. These men were strong, with thick arms like body builders. They couldn't be normal humans, this he was sure of, but he couldn't detect any strange smells.
He kicked again in an attempt to gauge their strength. The man on his right grunted and tightened his grip. His arm grew numb from the elbow down. His struggles might be useless, but he still had a mouth with which to curse.
"Let me go, you fuckers!"
"Shut up,” the man on his right answered in a gruff voice. Neither of them looked at him. They kept their eyes straight ahead as they marched down the clean, narrow corridor, dragging Jason between them.
"Don't fucking tell me to shut up.” Jason balked, trying to gain a foothold. “Where the fuck are you taking me?"
"Shut up,” the guy on his left answered this time. “Boss wants to talk to you."
"Boss, huh? He's got you pretty whipped. What else does he have you do? Suck his cock?"
"Shut up,” the man on the right yelled, glaring down at Jason for the first time. His eyes were bright and yellow, shocking Jason at the sight of them. “Another smartass comment like that and I'll—"
"You'll do nothing,” a voice answered from down the hall. The sound of it resonated off the walls around them. The men stopped, their grip falling lax. Jason saw his moment and seized it.
Sharply, he jabbed his elbow into the stomach of the man on his right. The goon doubled over with a groan. Jason wrenched his arm out of his vice-like grip. He spun quickly before the other man had a chance to react and threw a punch. It connected with the man's jaw with a sickening, bone-crunching sound.
Jason slid across the floor to escape the clutches of the first man, now recovering from the gut shot. He leapt toward Jason, but collided with his partner. The two men hit the ground hard.
Which way? Jason thought frantically. He turned in the direction they had dragged him from. Where was the exit? He snapped his head around. The men were climbing to their feet; he didn't have a lot of time. A long shadow fell across the floor, over the two men, stopping just at Jason's feet. He lifted his gaze.
At the end of the hall was an open door. A man in a white lab coat stood there, leaning his short stature against the frame. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed back and his glasses reflected the harsh light of the hallway. He didn't look like much, but there was an air about him that unsettled Jason. He smelled human, but dangerous.
Jason became locked in a stare-down with the strange man. He cocked a thick eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. The look infuriated him and Jason balled his hands into tight fists. Already he was distrustful of him. Anyone who wore a lab coat and smirked while doing it had to be bad news.
"You,” Jason called. “Who are you?"
He was tackled to the floor before he got an answer. One of the burly men had recovered, throwing his hefty weight into Jason's lithe body. He hit the wall, pinned painfully where he couldn't move. Moments later, he was back in a vice-like grip, arms twisted behind him.
The asshole he had punched glared at him. Jason knew he had broken his jaw by the way the man held his hand to his face, but why he wasn't screaming in pain Jason couldn't figure out.
He was thrust forward, toward the man in the lab coat. His grey eyes surveyed Jason coolly, his smirk long faded.
"We need to talk,” he replied and Jason knew his had been the voice he had heard in his head, just before his vertigo kicked in and he became disoriented. He glared at the man, ignoring the almost crippling pain inflicted by the brute holding him.
The man made a sharp sound in his throat like a cough and broke the stare. His eyes lifted, meeting the gaze of the man with the broken jaw. “See to that,” he ordered. “I need you at one-hundred percent."
The man mumbled something, clearly trying to speak but unable to. The man in the lab coat lifted a hand to silence him. “I know you'll heal, but see to it anyway."
He dumbly nodded his head, unable to do anything else. Jason glanced over his shoulder and past the bulk of the jackass behind him to see the injured man turn and walk the opposite way. It was all he saw before he was pushed forward again.
The man in the lab coat returned his gaze to Jason and there was no humor there, no amusement. It was the all too familiar look of pure anger and hatred.
"Yes, I think we need to have a very long talk."
"What do you want with me? Who are you?"
The man said nothing and stepped aside. With a gesture of his hand, Jason's captor pushed him through the open door.
Jason balked in the doorway at the sight of all the medical equipment lining the room. He felt a twinge of fear and unease. He had never liked doctors or hospitals and this place looked like something from a mad scientist horror movie.
There was a strange apparatus that resembled a dentist's chair, but even more horrendous. There was a cold, uninviting medical table lined with needles, scalpels and all manner of dangerous looking paraphernalia. Counters along the far wall held devices like beakers and microscopes.
Try as he might to make his weight solid and unmovable, it was no use and he was pushed further into the room. He regained his resolve and tried to fight, uselessly. The man twisted his arm tighter and grunted a noncommittal response.
"Sit him over there,” the lab coat man demanded, waving a hand in the direction of the torturous dentist chair contraption. He shut the heavy steel door behind him with a loud bang and slid a lock into place. Jason struggled anew, grunting as he tried to get an arm free. The man's grip cut off his circulation and Jason winced.
He was only released, briefly, when he was thrust into the chair. He took advantage of the situation and tried to scramble away, but was thrown back into the chair. The hefty
man scowled at him, blocking his path. He began to strap him into the chair with pieces of leather.
Jason struggled against the leather biting into his wrist. He wasn't used to being matched against someone stronger than he was. Simon Conner had been a full-blood, but even so, Jason had been able to fight him and gain advantage over him. Never mind the fact Davis had helped a bit.
The guy holding him down and strapping him in was solid. He had a muscle to him that even a full-blood were didn't possess. Jason hated being weak in comparison, but he was outmatched. There was no doubt.
And these goons weren't human. The bright golden eyes the man glared in his direction could only belong to a were, but there was no were-scent that Jason could identify. Unless the man was a full-blood, Jason couldn't smell the scent anyway, but the strength the man possessed was uncanny. He was took strong to be a half-blood or a changed-blood.
He was something else entirely.
With Jason securely strapped in, the man stepped back and crossed his thick arms over his chest. Behind him, Lab Coat Man had his back to Jason. There was a tinkling of glass and the sharp sound of metal scraping metal before he turned. He held his arms at his sides and stared at Jason with cold grey eyes.
Jason hated the man's obnoxious stare and smirk. He narrowed his eyes at him. Lab Cat Man approached slowly, his shoes squeaking with each step. He stopped just a few steps from the chair and cocked his head a bit at Jason.
"You don't look like much,” he stared, blinking as if surprised, “but I've been fooled before."
"Fuck you."
The man straightened his head and leaned back. His lips slipped into a frown. “There's something about you,” the man continued, unfazed by the outburst. “Something different.” He leaned in so close that his face was only inches from Jason's. He smelled of aftershave and mouthwash, clean and sterile. “Why are you here?"
"You fucking brought me here. How would I know?” Jason snapped.
"Enough of that. I don't play games,” the man warned. The man stared at him thoughtfully. “Why are you here? Were you sent?"
"Sent? What the fuck are you talking about?"
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 10