Page 88

Claws rose over Roark. Too late. Too fucking late. I gulped past razor blades and cried, “Roark. No, God. Please. Roark.”

The aphids fell on him, covered him. His name shredded my throat. The torches flickered into multicolored dots, spun around me and blended to nothingness.

My eyes flew open. The sun hung high above my cell and warmed my cheek. My leaden arms lay along my torso. The mattress pressed against my bare chest. I tried to move. Straps on my back and legs held me down.

The doctor bent over me, swabbing something on my shoulder.

“Roark?” The whisper scratched my throat.

“What are these spots on your back?”

I gritted my teeth. “Where’s Roark?”

Cold dabs wet my other shoulder. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Are they bites? Birthmarks?”

“Tell me where Roark is.”

“The pigment is unusual. Black. And smooth.” He pressed his finger down. “Does this hurt?”

“Get away from me. You…you created a virus, a worldwide massacre. You watched that sick fuck cane Roark. And you’re asking about the pigment of my skin? Where is he?”

Was Roark’s beautiful body shredded with bite marks? His face sunken under all-white eyes? I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bear it. I had to find him and find the cure.

Leather bit into my back. “Let me up.” I bucked as the walls closed in. Suffocating. Choking. “Let me up, goddammit.” My shouting dwindled to a pained rasp.

Footsteps scraped the floor and the doctor’s dabbing stilled on my back. I angled my head toward the gate.

The Drone stood on the other side. His infernal aura slithered through the bars and corkscrewed its way to my gut. “I couldn’t let him mutate and taint my army, Eveline.”

There were no half-breed mutants. If a man were bitten, he became an aphid. If Roark didn’t mutate, then… “You killed him?”

He closed his eyes. “Shh. Now, now. It will be all right.” A deep inhale and his eyes snapped open. “A cadaver in mid-transition will be invaluable in my laboratory.”

My existence shattered. I couldn’t let them see. Couldn’t let them know they killed me too. I held the pieces together, forced the air from my lungs. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“I’m very sorry, Eveline. I’ll give you time to…accept.” The fan of his cape followed him out the door.

My bindings loosened and fell away. The doctor stepped out of the cell in wooden movements and sat at the far end of the chamber.

I rolled off the bed and sought the corner. Knees to chest, I blanked my face and waited for the doctor to leave.

But he didn’t move. The sun circled the sky and the shadows crawled over me. The night showed me mercy, a reprieve from his watchful eyes. It was then that I surrendered to soundless, tearless sobs.

The abyss inhaled and welcomed me back.

The moon peeked around the ceiling gables and cast blocks of gray on the floor. Morning and night, the tide crashed against the fortress walls. I put my fingers in my ears.

The corner propped up my back, as it had done for a day, maybe two, maybe more.

A brown and yellow spider tapped its striped legs on my knee, looking for a place to bury its fangs. Its pinecone body dragged behind it. I hoped it was poisonous.

The gate to my cell squeaked opened. That fucking sound made me cringe. It latched shut and a hand swung at the spider. The ridged body crunched under the doctor’s sandal.

“You haven’t eaten in four days.” He waited for a response. He could go fuck himself.

He crouched before me. “If you don’t eat, I can’t take your blood. If I don’t take your blood, Aiman…the Drone will retrieve it himself. And you already know how he’ll do that.” His dark eyes lowered to my neck.

Why did he need my blood? I turned away from him, pressed closer into the corner.

He gripped my waist and threw me over his shoulder. Sandalwood billowed from his sweat dampened shirt. The shadows on the floor chased us out of the cell and into the bathroom.

He gathered up my skirt. The stool hit my bare butt. The pipes squealed followed by the rush of water in the tub.

“Go.” He gave the toilet a pointed look.

I’d given up on my demands for privacy after the first day. To be honest, I just didn’t care. Caring was for people with hopes and dreams. So I let him haul me to and from the bathroom, bathe me, watch me use the toilet. All under the pretense of medical care. I felt like a lab monkey, certain the comparison wasn’t far off.

Maybe I should’ve been concerned about an inappropriate touch or worse, considering he had a regular viewing of my naked body. But, I never glimpsed anything in his eyes or manner to seed the doubt. Maybe if he crossed that line, my body would find the fight that had abandoned it.