Retribution (Moonstruck Genesis #4)

Chapter 13

DJ TASTED something bitter and metallic on her tongue. Her stomach clenched and she dry heaved. Her limbs didn’t want to obey her brain and her eyes felt swollen. Working up enough saliva to spit, she cracked one lid open. She was alone. Her brain didn’t want to process the information her senses tried to feed it. A bucket sat nearby. She scooted over enough to spit into it.

Scrubbing the heels of her palms against her eyes, she did her best to remember how she’d ended up here. DJ leaned back against the wall, her knees drawn up under the hem of the large T-shirt she wore. Sniffing the material, some of the blanks filled in. Antoine. This was his shirt. And she had on boxers. His again, she suspected. The wall at her back and the floor were metal. There was nothing in the cell but the plastic bucket. No cot. No commode.

Her shoulder itched and she scratched at it, found a raised bump like a bug bite. Dart. She’d been shot with a tranquilizer dart. Her heart hammered. So had Antoine. Oh, god. Where was he? Had they killed him? Panic burned through her veins fueled by adrenaline.

Bébé?

“Antoine?” DJ scrambled onto her knees, searching for the source of his voice.

I’m sorry. I could not protect you.

DJ pressed her hands to her temples. In her head? His voice was in her head? Was she still dreaming?

Shh, bébé. You’re my mate. That’s why.

More puzzle pieces clicked into place. This explained the silent exchanges she’d witnessed between the couples she’d encountered. And hello, she’d just bought a ticket for the same crazy train.

Are you hurt?

No, bébé. But I can’t get to you. Are you safe?

DJ studied her cell again. Part of her wanted to reassure him, but her inner law enforcement professional insisted on honesty. For now. What do they— Metal grated on metal beyond the door and she broke off contact. The door swung open and she stared at the two men standing in the hallway outside.

Black fatigue pants. Black T-shirts. No vests but webbed utility belts with pistols, batons, and handcuffs. They weren’t cops. DJ fought the urge to charge them. She needed to play the victim for the time being, at least until she figured out where she and Antoine had been taken, why these people had kidnapped them—though she had a sneaking suspicion she already knew. Most important, she needed to know what was planned for them.

The smaller of the two men gestured for her to get up. She stared at him, doing her best to look scared and baffled. The expression was far easier to pull off than she would have liked.

“On your feet, bitch.”

When she didn’t move fast enough, the larger guy strode across the room, grabbed her by the hair and jerked. She cried out, unable to choke off the sound in time. A fierce howl rolled through the facility. Antoine. Was he still in wolf form?

On her feet now, the man transferred his grip to her biceps. He frog-marched her out into the hallway and toward a door at the end. They passed seven cells—four on the opposite side, three on the same side as hers. DJ had no way of knowing if Antoine was being held in one of them—or, for that matter, if anyone else was also a prisoner. When she stumbled, the man’s grip tightened and he hauled her along. They passed through the door. The place looked more like a clinic or—DJ gulped. A lab. This was a lab. Oh god. Antoine was in the hands of the people who had tortured Nate Connor. Worst case scenario had just been confirmed. She started to shiver and couldn’t stop. What would they do to Antoine?

Her escort shoved her into an exam room. “Get on the table.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he endeavored to intimidate her. It worked. She climbed up on the table and attempted to draw the shirt over her knees. The asshole smirked at her and she dropped her eyes. No sense antagonizing them. Not until she had a plan. Not until she and Antoine could escape.

The Wolves. She needed to get word to them. DJ studied the guard from beneath half-lowered eyelids. He’d shoved his phone into a side pocket on his uniform pants. Maybe if she tripped on her way back to her cell, she could fall, and pickpocket the phone. Except where would she hide it? Though large and falling almost to her knees, the T-shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination and boxer shorts didn’t come with pockets..

A woman walked up behind the guard and gave him a shove. “Wait outside.” She moved to the table, her hawk-like gaze taking in every detail about DJ. “I’m Dr. Madison.”

“Doctor of what?”

“Does it matter, Miss Collier?”

“Yeah, it does. And that’s Deputy US Marshal Collier to you.”

“I’m well aware of who you are, but it’s completely irrelevant. The only reason you’re still alive is because I need to find out if you’re pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Stunned, DJ uttered the word in what became four syllables.

“You are familiar with the term? I’ve been informed that you mated with the animal we just acquired.”

“Antoine is not an animal. He’s a man.” Angry heat surged through DJ and gritted out the words.

“He’s certainly not human.”

DJ gave the woman her iciest stare. “He’s far more human than anyone here.”

“Save your indignant righteousness. Lie back or I’ll have you strapped down.”

Seething, DJ did as she was told. The woman removed the boxers DJ wore and ordered her to place her heels in the stirrups. A nurse slipped in, tied a tube around DJ’s upper arm, and patted her inner elbow a few times before inserting a needle to draw blood. Four test tubes later, the nurse swiped DJ’s skin with a cotton ball and bent her arm to staunch the flow of blood.

“Damn it.” The doctor glared at her. “Are you barren?”

“What the hell?”

“These animals don’t mate with humans unless the woman is fertile. You should be pregnant.”

Relief rushed through DJ, quickly followed by disappointment, which she pushed aside. There was no baby they could hold over her head and she was free to take chances with her life that she wouldn’t take carrying another. At the same time, despite believing she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, the thought of having Antoine’s child filled her with a glow. The man had obviously bewitched her. The sex was phenomenal—the best she’d ever had, and he’d certainly spoiled her for any other man. But how had he gotten under her skin so completely so quickly? Mated. Yeah, they were, she realized.

“Sit up.” The doctor’s harsh order pulled DJ from her thoughts. Before she could retort, the woman’s phone rang. She pulled it from a pocket, looked at the screen, snarled, and quickly left the room as she snapped into the phone, “What is it?”

Left alone, DJ scanned the room for cameras and found two. So much for stealing some sort of weapon, not that there was anything obvious lying around. As much as she wanted to flee, she knew she had to be smart. Running before she had any information would do more harm than good. Not to mention she wasn’t about to leave without Antoine. And any other prisoners these perverts were holding.

Sitting on the edge of the table, DJ schooled her expression. She tried for bored, but the longer she had to wait, the more agitated she became. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on Antoine. Just because he could do that alien mind trick with her, she wasn’t sure it worked the other direction.

Are you there? Her brain filled with white noise and she almost jumped from the table to go pound on the door. Something terrible was happening to him.

ANTOINE! She mentally screamed his name. Amid the static, she caught a faint flicker of him. Calming her breathing, she concentrated harder. Are you hurt?

Bébé . He sounded weak, but he was still alive. That’s all that mattered for the moment.

The door opened and the hateful doctor returned with the two guards. “Take her to him. I want to see what happens.”

The men advanced, grabbed her arms, and hustled her out. Him who? Antoine? Or someone else? They marched her back through the door and down the hallway of the cell block. They passed her cell and turned a corner. After a few more twists, they shoved her into a corridor. Her knees turned to gelatin and if she hadn’t been dehydrated, she would have peed her pants. Something horrible—a nightmare come to life—crouched in the far corner of an open-barred cell. It wasn’t man. It wasn’t animal.

A guard stood near the door holding the controls of a TASER gun. DJ could see the slender metallic threads snaking across the concrete floor to be lost in the patchy fur hanging off the…thing. She dry heaved since she had nothing in her stomach. Pulling her eyes from the creature, she focused on the man instead. He was a little over six feet tall. She couldn’t see his face, but his hair was the shade her mother would have called strawberry blond. It hung loose, brushing his broad shoulders. The guy looked like he could play pro football. He cut his eyes her direction and cruelty burned in their blue depths.

The man handed the TASER to another as he looked her up and down. Disgust and lust intermixed in his expression. She jerked against the hands holding her arms as he approached. With deliberate derision, he lifted the hem of her shirt and ogled her. She was completely bare. The men behind her got a view of her butt, but the man in front got the whole show. He cupped her mound, two fingers parting her folds.

The creature went apeshit. He rushed the bars only to be crippled as the guard holding the TASER pressed the trigger and held it. The blond laughed but removed his hand. DJ decided there and then she’d kill him the first chance she got. She would put a fucking bullet in his head and then squat and piss on him.

The creature managed a weak growl as one of her guards opened the door. The blond man retrieved the TASER and triggered it as the other guard shoved her inside the cage with enough force to send her to her knees. The thing in the cell with her howled. He ripped the taser points from his skin and lunged. One guard didn’t move fast enough. The beast wrenched the guy’s arm through the bars, twisting and jerking. The man screamed, his face a mask of agony, but DJ couldn’t work up any sympathy.

A sucking sound made her close her eyes and turn away. She didn’t need to watch to figure out the creature was doing its damnedest to rip the guard’s arm off. Too bad. So sad. Between the screaming and yelling, nobody noticed her. Nor did they realize a phone had dislodged from the injured guard’s pocket and, in the shuffle, had been kicked into the cell. DJ crabbed over to it, snatched it, and ducked into the corner farthest from the commotion.

Another man, carrying a rifle, appeared. DJ opened her mouth to scream, but the guard fired before any sound made it past her lips. Three darts hit the beast in rapid succession. Even as it lost consciousness, the creature ripped the man’s arm loose. Arterial blood sprayed, coating the cell and the monster. Except it wasn’t a monster. He had Antoine’s eyes and the sorrow reflected in them all but broke DJ’s heart—right before the life flickered out of them. She curled up into a ball and prayed their captors would forget about her in all the confusion. And she did her damnedest not to cry. They wouldn’t have killed Antoine. They needed his DNA or his sperm or something for their mad-scientist tests.

Foul-smelling smoke wafted in. Breathing shallowly, she kept her eyes closed as she concentrated. DJ heard scuffling, and the creaking of the cell door. Boots pounded on the concrete and then faded back as the door clanged shut. She guessed they’d come to retrieve the severed arm, but doubted there was any way it could be reattached. She should care about the injured man but couldn’t. Antoine and his…his what? His family? His…pack? Yes, she supposed they were a wolf pack of sorts, with the former sergeant major as their leader. Alpha. Yeah, alpha. That’s what the top wolf was called.

She tried to focus but found her thoughts wandering. Her eyes felt like they’d been glued shut and she could no longer open them. Something heavy pressed against her chest and she couldn’t breathe. Sparkles decorated the inside of her eyelids as consciousness slipped away.

SOUNDS FILTERED across her senses. DJ figured she’d been drugged at some point and passed out—most likely that smoke she’d smelled. She was still curled up on the concrete floor of the cell and had no clue how much time had passed. Cracking one eye open, she saw the blond guy with the TASER talking to someone on the phone.

“Look, I don’t give a bloody crap. I needed you here yesterday. Things are goin’ to shite.” He listened to whoever was on the other end. “Fine. I’ll talk to Smith about a bonus.”

Smith? Was Blondie talking about John Smith of Black Root? Her instincts stirred. Hannah wasn’t kidding. About anything. The guard’s accent also registered in the back of her mind. He wasn’t a local. English? Maybe.

Another presence rippled across her awareness. Antoine. God, he’d been a nightmare before she’d passed out. She listened to the guard shuffle away, still talking. She moved just enough to see outside the cell. No one was there.

DJ rolled over, looking for Antoine. He was curled up in the far corner, fully in wolf form now. On hands and knees, she crawled over to him wondering if this wasn’t the stupidest thing she’d ever done. She stopped dead still when the wolf issued a rumbling growl.

“ Shhh ,” she hissed. “We don’t want the guards to come back.” The wolf raised his head. “Can you understand me?” The animal blinked and DJ fought a wave of vertigo as she stared into Antoine’s eyes looking back at her from the wolf’s head. Overcome with the need to touch the wolf, to bury her fingers in his thick fur, she extended her hand. He sniffed it and then crawled a little closer to her. She slowly narrowed the gap.

When Antoine nosed her, she collapsed against him, her arms around his neck. “I’m stark-raving-mad crazy. I know I am. But I don’t care. I need you. Even like this, I need you.”

The wolf licked her cheek, his rough tongue offering comfort, but he remained in animal form. She wondered if their captors had done something to Antoine that made him shift. She sat up and cupped his face, staring into his eyes. “You were only partially shifted before, right?” He whined softly. “Can you come back?” The wolf chuffed before a low growl reverberated in his chest.

Bébé.

DJ almost hyperventilated at the voice in her head, but she didn’t break eye contact. Antoine sounded so…broken. “It’s okay.” She caressed his ears and he licked her cheek again. For the moment, getting them out would be up to her. She picked up the phone and listened for any movement beyond the cell.

“Tell me if someone comes,” she whispered.

Hoping she remembered the number, DJ punched it into the phone. She’d snooped at Antoine’s house and scrolled through his cell. One number had no associated name but she recognized it as belonging to a SAT phone and she only knew one person in Antoine’s acquaintance who carried one. After ten rings—she counted, holding her breath—the line opened but no one spoke.

Whispering, she said, “This is DJ. Antoine’s stuck as a wolf.”

“Where are you?”

She thought that was the big Sergeant Major’s voice. “I don’t know. They drugged us. It’s…we’re in a cell. A cage.” Blood stains still marked the floor and walls. Bile rose in her throat and she choked it down. “Can you use this phone to find us? I stole it from a guard.”

“Will he miss it?”

She gulped, centered, put on her marshal face. “Doubtful. They trapped Antoine in…he was half and half. He ripped the guy’s arm off. His cell phone won’t be real high on their priority list.”

A muffled conversation followed then Mac’s voice replied, “Affirmative. We’ll be there soon.”