Page 109 of Storm and Tempest

“I’m the picture of health.”

Jax looked back at Buzard. “We’re good.”

“Seems difficult patients is my lot right now. And our dear Zeyla isn’t even here.” He scanned Jax’s face. “She was a firecracker, that one.”

“We’re not talking about the sick things you’ve all done to my sister-in-law. You’re going to tell me where my pregnant wife is, and then I’m leaving with her.”

“You really should let me look at that shoulder before you go. There isn’t any good healthcare for hundreds of miles.”

Jax yelled, “WHERE IS SHE?”

Buzard flinched. “We’re currently running another test. I’ve been so pleased with the results thus far. I’m sure they’ll come through this one hale and hearty, as they say.”

“As who says?” Jax might have read that in a book somewhere, but not one from this century. “Because I’ve never heard anyone say that.”

“If you’d gone to aDominatusschool as we advised your father, you would have received an adequate education. But we got here in the end, didn’t we? Your baby in the womb of one of our children. It’s almost poetic the way things worked out.”

Jax sucked in a breath. “Excuse me?”

“It’s the way things were always supposed to be. There’s really no point arguing with it.” Buzard sank onto a rolling stool with no back. “We try and things don’t always go the way we plan. We try again in a new location, with a new version of us. Sometimes it works out and other times it doesn’t. Life goes on. We make new plans.”

“Is this going to make sense at any point?” Bruce asked.

“Escort our friend here to be assessed.” Buzard motioned. “I’m sure there are some worthwhile parts in there we can use.”

Two men came over and grabbed Bruce by the arms. He yelled as they dragged him away. Jax started to go after them, but Buzard grabbed his shoulder.

Jax cried out, and one knee hit the floor.

“Like I said, let’s get that shoulder looked at.”

A sharp burn touched the side of his neck. Jax cried out, knowing exactly what had just happened. They wanted him to pass out. Unconscious so they could do anything to him, and he’d have no way to fight back.

He launched up, refusing to go down like this. Determined not to pass out.

Warmth spread through him. “No, no, no.”

“Just something to make you feel better,” Buzard said. “My own recipe.”

“You gave me pain meds.”

“Even better, you’ll need another dose within an hour, and if you don’t get it?” He whistled. “You think it was rough getting off the meds last time.”

Jax stared at him. “Your own recipe?”

“You’re welcome.”

“The other you said that to Kenna. Seems like it runs in the family.”

Buzard stared at him, his assessing gaze entirely too clinical. Sure, he was a doctor, but he also came across like some of the serial killers Jax had met over the years as an FBI agent. This guy just had that look about him. Above the law, to the point he considered the law irrelevant. It definitely didn’t apply to him, so much so that he rarely even thought about considering it a boundary for living an upright life.

Then Buzard laughed, and it sounded hollow. “The other me. He was a nut job, wasn’t he?” He glanced down the long room, with rows of hospital beds.

Jax said, “She told you about how she killed him, right?”

He needed to goad the guy rather than contemplate the feeling that seemed to be spreading through him, reaching the tips of his fingers and his toes. Whatever Buzard had given himsent the pain packing somewhere else. Not that he was going to thank the guy, since he’d implied it was even more addictive than narcotics.

“He was working to release a deadly contagion that would wipe out most of the world’s population,” Jax continued, looking around as if interested. “Is that what you’re doing here?”