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Chapter Nine

Iphara Island

Planet of Yithia

Wren needed to pee. No way was she going to go on the bed when she’d just gotten clean.

Parts of her were beginning to go numb, tingling to her toetips.

How long had it been since Nice Guy had left?

She’d dozed off and on, throwing her concept of time out of whack.

Her stomach twisted, spiking a sharp pain in her abdomen.

She grimaced. If she could eat anything, it would be pizza or a grilled cheese sandwich. Iced coffee? Soda? Hell, a chilled bottle of water.

She had one thing to be grateful for, though.

Gone was her craving for splice. Still, if she ever got back to Demeter, she’d be imprisoned for going A.W.O.L.

while on parole. The sharks had made things worse for her.

The two-year extension on her probation was nothing compared to what E.A.F. would do to her.

“Hello?” she called, straining her ears to hear.

A sneaky thought silenced her. What if the labs were soundproofed?

After all, no footsteps came from the passage, no screams or chatter from staff or victims. She peered at the walls, trying to assess with her non-X-ray vision whether the walls were flimsy or filled with dampening foam.

Not that she was an expert, by no means.

No windows meant no weaknesses, but the gap between the ceiling panels and the floor above could be an option, if she could free herself from the restraints. Even then, she wasn’t sure she could climb into the gap.

What would it buy her anyway? Delayed experimentation? As nice as that sounded, she needed a better plan. Making it out of this place would mean fresh air and nothing more. They were on a friggin island, one she didn’t know at all.

A cave would be good for hiding, where she could starve to death.

No, the best bet would be to kill her way through these assholes.

She’d at least have freedom, shelter, and food.

Anyone landing some sort of shuttle could be taken out.

Then she would have to figure out how to fly the damn thing.

There were too many obstacles she’d have to surmount to survive.

And on top of that was the question of whether she could take someone’s life.

Hell, it’s them or me, isn’t it?

She grimaced.

The alternative was to let them do to her what they wanted, but by what One Eye had said, not many of their previous victims had made it.

Her only opportunities were in transit, if she could get her hands on one of those gun-thingies they carried.

Except the scientists and Criass sported no such weapons.

She grinned. Stabbing them with their own concoctions would be justice served.

She pinched her thighs together. “Listen. Anyone, I need to pee. Seems like humanity and dignity do not extend outside our galaxy. Let me pee, you bastards. Stealing women for your experiments,” she sang at the top of her lungs.

“This is gender-based violence, but I’m human, a woman, and this bullshit is done. ”

She caterwauled with no tune in mind and probably sounded like a drunk space pirate way past his splice fix, but her bladder was making her desperate.

“Drug her,” Criass said, striding in as if he’d just enjoyed a leisurely tea break.

Nice Guy slunk past her, his gaze averted. The coward. His back was to her while he fiddled with vials. Swish went one purple liquid into an injection gun then the gurgle of another. She squirmed, shifting to the opposite side of the table, as far as the straps would let her.

She cast a pleading gaze at Nice Guy, but he pretended not to notice and kept his chin down.

The cold of the gun’s nozzle on her neck made her yelp. She had nowhere to go, nothing she could do to stop this. She was alone. Definitely not the way she’d expected to die.

At the sharp bite of the needle, she hissed. Fire blazed outward, clenching her teeth. She keened, arching off the bed with her heels hitting the table in a rapid beat. When the burn traveled to her chest, she screamed. Dying sucked.

“Wake her,” reached her through the fog clouding her mind. Thoughts followed, too fast for her to grasp. “Return her to the others, and bring the next one.”

She vaguely registered the releasing of her limbs.

When Nice Guy tried to help her, she threw out a hand and glared at him.

She staggered to her boots. Yes, she’d kill these fuckers, and she’d use her knife to get a gun.

Her determination hardened when the dampness between her legs told her she’d wet herself again.

The indignity of it. The urge to stab them both gripped her when her fingers brushed the hilt.

Could she do it?

Nice Guy held the door open. Criass had his back to her. So arrogant.

She hesitated. Her veins blazed with whatever shit they’d put in her.

And they were about to do it to the other women.

She made to follow Nice Guy, wrapped her fingers around the hilt, and swung it.

The blade sank into the back of Criass’s neck like a fork through cake.

He slumped to the floor, his face contorted, his mouth opening and closing without a sound escaping him.

She blinked at him then faced Nice Guy. “Get in here, or I’ll stab him again.” She nudged Criass’s prone form with her toe.

Nice Guy obeyed, sliding inside the room and shutting the door.

‘Kill him’ zinged across her mind. She tried to silence the shock, to focus. “Help me escape, or I’ll kill him. I mean it,” she snapped.

Nice Guy inched deeper into the room. “There is no way to go.” He pointed at Criass with his chin. “We will just heal him.”

“Shit,” she muttered. “You’re immortal?”

“No, but he is losing blood, nothing more.” A smile teased his lips. “Our hearts are where your livers are.”

She scowled. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I despise him, and the longer we wait, the more he will bleed out.” He tapped a spot on his torso. “Here.”

“And you don’t think I’ll use that knowledge on you?” She eyed him, trying to ascertain whether she could trust him.

“No, because I can get us out of here.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

“He is my uncle.” His gaze showed not an ounce of love. “A male I have hated, resented, and served all my life. I am nothing more than a slave to him.”

“Hiossu,” Criass croaked, green blood spilling through the fingers he pressed to his neck. “Fetch the med-gun. Now.”

Without warning, Hiossu snatched the dagger from her hand and plunged it into Criass’s heart. “Done,” he said, offering her the knife. “I shall escort you to your females as if nothing has happened.”

“But aren’t there others like your uncle?”

Hiossu winced. “Yes, I am sorry. Some of your females would have already received Gamma 7. Let us hope this is a good batch. If you wish to save them, we need to ‘follow’ protocol.”

“Get me a gun and a ship.”

He blinked at her. “First, we must kill any who oppose us.”

She eyed him, not sure she could trust him. But what choice did she have?

“What about a distraction? A way to spread them out and give us a fighting chance? Taking out so many all at once…” She stared at the door, half expecting company. “I’m not one for killing.” She swallowed hard and focused on Criass. “Can’t we just…sneak out?”

“Go where? There is a cave system south of here, but…”

She pinched her brow, a mother of all headaches forming. A few of her fingers had started to tingle, and her toes had an unfamiliarity to them, like she had borrowed someone else’s feet. “It would be the first place they look.”

His pursed lips said that was true. “Shuttles do not often visit here when the resort is not open during winter.”

“Huh, resort?” She almost laughed at the ingeniousness of it all. Having a medical facility beneath a hotel? Any comings and goings could be attributed to supplies being delivered or guests arriving or leaving.

“We need to wait for one and ambush it.”

All the deaths would be on her hands. Maybe if she enlisted the women… To be fair, she’d only stabbed Criass. Hiossu had finished him off.

“Okay, what do you have in mind?” she asked.

He shoved her through the door. “Walk, Earthian,” he spat.

Doubts hit her like a sledgehammer except his grip was gentle. Screams reached her from all sides. Her breath caught, tears forming. He was right. They had to plan this well with the women scattered. He steered her into another small lab. Terry was yelling and fighting the restraints.

A purple-robed man spewed orders to the lab assistant then glared at Hiossu. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

“Criass sent me,” Hiossu said, slipping the dagger into her hand he clasped behind her back.

With surprising force, he pushed her at the assistant. She pretended to stumble, using the man to ‘catch’ her balance. When he did, she quietly slid the blade into the area of his heart. His gasp was lost amid Terry’s ruckus, which cut off when Hiossu slit the other man’s throat with a scalpel.

“What the hell?” Terry cried out, scrambling off the bed when Wren cut through the straps. She leapt back until her ass hit the wall. “You killed them?”

Wren winced. “Are you in or out?

Terry scanned the room, straightened, and squared her shoulders. “In.”

Before they hurried out, Wren said, “This is Hiossu. He’s—”

Hiossu collapsed to the floor, tripping her.

“We are not fools, Earthian.” One Eye smirked, his bulk dominating the passageway.

“You have made the situation worse for you and your females. Do you think you are the first to try for freedom?” He hiss-laughed, nudging his gun at her to follow.

“I do so enjoy showing you how superior we are to your…kind.”

Surrounded by a wall of sharks, Wren mouthed, ‘I’m sorry,’ to Terry, then with a growl, she flung the dagger at One Eye.

That was all kinds of stupid. Not only had she lost her only weapon, but the damn thing bounced off his chest like a breadstick off a table. With as much damage.

Yithians tackled her, slamming her to the floor, bruising every part of her, so she screamed, unable to register what hurt where. She clenched her jaw, fighting the waves of agony stemming from all directions.

Terry made demands, but her cries dwindled like she was being carried away.

A Yithian dragged Hiossu into a lab, propped him against a wall, and manacled him.

The sharks restraining her hoisted her onto the bed, then all four of them pinned her limbs down. Their cold grips were worse than the straps, less forgiving and more soul-destroying. A purple-robed yellow-skinned man strolled in, his eyes narrowed in hatred.

“For your foolishness, I shall inject Criass’s prototype. If you die, then justice will be served. If you survive, then we are closer to our goal. We win either way.” He smirked, tapping the rainbow-colored fluid in an injection gun. “Hold her still.”

She squirmed.

“I shall take pleasure in harming you, female, if you do not behave,” One Eye snapped, raising a wicked dagger.

Fear coursed through her, along with anger. “And what will that gain you, asshole?” She bit her lip. Antagonizing him wasn’t helpful.

A sting registered on her left forearm, a thin line of blood forming.

She glared at the one-eyed bastard circling the table. “See… Nothing. Pointless. I never gave it much thought, but maybe Yithians are dumb?”

Another sting followed, summoning a hiss.

“Easily led by these Malods.” She nudged her head at the Purple Robe who hovered, injection gun extended.

One Eye’s face darkened to a dull silver. “An alliance does not make us the weaker, Earthian. It is you who should be concerned.” More flicks of his dagger heralded minor bites like bee stings, all while his gaze remained fixed on her. He relished the hurt he inflicted.

What a dick.

“Do it, kuliriji,” One-eye spat.

She blinked. Ah, so kuliriji must mean scientist? Like Frankenstein? But when Purple Robe squeezed beside the Yithian holding her in place, she shuffled back though it would buy her no more than a few seconds.

The fire exploding outward, from her neck to her toes, was nothing like before.

Ice and heat took turns to flush her body.

Muscles spasmed and cramped at random. Memories and darkness sputtered on and off.

Emotions bombarded her: glee, curiosity, revenge?

It had to be her imagination, her tortured mind grasping for sanity while her body became… something else.

“She lives? Intriguing.” Purple Robe turned his back on her and fiddled with things unseen on the counter. The four Yithians tightened their hold on her limbs.

“Stop this,” Hiossu demanded.

“Gag him,” One Eye said, hiss-laughing. “Nothing pleases me more than a silent Maloidian.”

“Do not overstep,” Purple Robe muttered.

“Yes, kuliriji,” One Eye said, but his black eyes twinkled with an eagerness that summoned a shiver down her spine. He frightened her more than anything the Maloidians could inject into her.