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I turn my head, looking up at him with what I hope appears to be drug-hazed submission. "The heat... It's too much. I can't fight it anymore."

Confusion flickers across his face, quickly replaced by smug satisfaction. "You see, gentlemen? Even the brilliant Dr. Baldwin knows when to surrender to her beast."

While he's distracted by his gloating, my hand slides along the medical tray beside us. My fingers close around a scalpel. I grip it tight and hide it against my palm.

"Just tell me what to do," I plead, playing into his God complex. "You're in charge. You know what's best."

Hammond's eyes gleam with triumph. "I knew you'd see reason eventually. You're too intelligent not to understand the importance of my work."

"Dahlia," Evan warns, taking another step forward. "Don't listen to him."

Hammond jerks me back, the needle pressing deeper. "Stay where you are, Blackthorn!"

"It's okay," I say to Evan, hoping he can read the intent in my eyes. "I understand now that this is bigger than me."

Hammond relaxes his grip just slightly, believing he's won. It's the only opening I need.

I drive the scalpel into his thigh with every ounce of strength I possess.

Hammond howls, his grip on me faltering. I try to twist away, but he grabs my hair, yanking me back against him. We struggle, his strength surprising for a man his age. The syringe wavers dangerously close to my neck.

"You fucking bitch!" he snarls.

"Now!" I scream at the others.

Onyx and the others surge forward. Onyx grabs Hammond by the collar and wrenches him off me, slamming him hard against the wall. The syringe clatters uselessly to the floor.

Hammond tries to fight back, but Leo and Axl are already there, pinning his arms, forcing him down. Evan kicks the syringe away, far out of reach.

I collapse to the floor, breathless and shaking but uninjured, as the burning fear inside me gives way to relief.

Onyx looks down at me, "You did well, Dahlia. We’ve got you."

His words don’t feel very reassuring because even cool tiles do nothing to cool my burning skin.

"We need to get her out of here," Evan orders someone. "Now!"

"Don't touch her," Onyx growls at someone I can't see. "Nobody fucking touches her but us."

Through the haze of need, I see Hammond being restrained by the team. Blood soaks his pant leg where I stabbed him, but he's still smiling, watching me writhe on the floor.

"It’s too late," he calls out. "She's already gone. The dose I gave her was meant for an elephant; that's why I put her to sleep earlier. You'll have to fuck her soon, or she'll die from the strain. I wish I could watch. Fuck!"

"Shut him up," Leo snarls.

Someone gags Hammond, but his words have already taken root. The pain is getting worse; my body temperature is rising to dangerous levels. I can feel sweat soaking through my clothes.

"He's right," I manage to gasp. "It's too much. I can't…I need…"

"We've got you," Axl says, his voice tight with restraint. "We'll take care of you, baby."

"Not here," Evan says firmly. "Get her to the chopper. We need to move now."

Someone carries me off the floor, and it's hard to tell who. Every touch sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through my body. I bury my face against his chest, inhaling his scent desperately. It's Onyx.

"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for.

"Hold on," Onyx murmurs against my hair. "Just hold on, Dahlia."