23. Crypt Keeper
CRYPT KEEPER
Consciousness returned one sharp breath at a time. Pain came first. Not the burning agony of broken bones. Something smaller. Sharper. Like thousands of tiny wounds scattered across my body.
My arm throbbed. My chest burned. The back of my hip ached. The inside of my mouth tasted like copper.
With difficulty, I opened my eyes. White light flooded my vision, and I immediately closed them again. Cautiously, I cracked them.
The ceiling above me wasn’t concrete anymore. It was strangely immaculate. Bright. Clinical. Almost beautiful.
Stiff, I tested my wrists. Metal bit into my skin. Unable to move my head, I glanced down the best I could. I saw the steel restraints that held my arms spread wide against a reinforced medical table. It was angled upright like some twisted examination chair in a horror movie.
My ankles were locked. My chest cinched down beneath broad restraint straps. My head turned only a few inches before another padded restraint stopped it.
That’s when my fingertips grazed the deep gouges on the surface of the table.
Somehow, feeling those sharp indents, I knew the full moon had passed.
Inside, my wolf exploded. The collar around my throat flashed with what I knew had to be glowing runes.
Pain slammed into every nerve and, teeth clenched, I froze.
Someone chuckled softly. “Excellent.”
I looked toward the voice. The Doctor. I remembered him from when I came to after Rafael captured me. Yet, my brain was fuzzy. Another effect of my Rougarou transformation.
He stood beside a stainless-steel tray, arranging glass vials with almost obsessive precision. He didn’t look at me. Not immediately.
He seemed to be labeling each of them. Carefully. Methodically. As though he were organizing wine instead of pieces of me.
One vial read: Blood A-23. Another: Marrow. Then, Dermal Sample, Saliva, Hair Follicles.
There were dozens. Dozens. Most I couldn’t make out. Jesus, how long had I been unconscious?
The Doctor noticed me watching. “Ah.” He smiled pleasantly. “You’re awake again.”
“I was trying to sleep, but your bright lights rudely awakened me,” I sarcastically replied.
He laughed—actually laughed. “I appreciate humor.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“No.” He picked up a syringe as he stepped closer. “I don’t suppose you were.”
I snarled.
He smiled. “I must say, you are quite magnificent in your Rougarou form. Unlike any I’ve encountered before. Much larger and stronger than your father, for sure.”
My father?
The next hour became a blur of measured cruelty. Not torture, because that would have implied emotion. The Doctor wasn’t angry. He wasn’t sadistic. Nor was he trying to make me scream.
Everything had purpose.
Blood. Measured, labeled, stored. Bone marrow. Collected, recorded. Hair follicles. Cataloged. Skin biopsies.
Everything photographed before preservation.
Saliva. Compared.
“God fucking dammit! Didn’t you already collect all of that shit from me?” I shouted.
He frowned, his brows dropping low as he studied me with his head tilted to the side as if he’d forgotten I was still there. “Two sets, sometimes three, are better than one. It lessens the chances of error.”
Then he returned to his work. Every procedure was followed by notes. Observations. Hypotheses. Like I wasn’t a living creature, I was merely an equation or a puzzle.
A specimen.
Oddly, that was worse. Because pain given for pleasure eventually ended. Curiosity never did.
I must’ve passed out again because I came to again wishing I hadn’t.
The Doctor stood beside me, reading through pages of handwritten notes. “Incredible,” he murmured almost to himself. “The regeneration rate alone…” He shook his head. “…remarkable.”
Rafael leaned against the opposite wall dressed like he was attending a board meeting. Watching. Patient. Silent.
Unlike the doctor, he hadn’t said more than three words since I’d woken after he captured me.
He wasn’t fascinated, he was calculating. There was a difference. One wanted answers. The other wanted an advantage.
I filed that away.
Then something overhead in the laboratory chimed. Not an alarm exactly. It was more of a pleasant electronic tone that echoed softly through the room. Like a hospital announcing visiting hours.
An automated female voice spoke calmly. “Specimens Contained.”
At first, nobody moved. Another pause.
“Containment remains intact. Safe to proceed.”
The Doctor kept writing. Didn’t even glance toward the ceiling. Rafael, on the other hand, became alert.
“Intruders detected within lower catacombs.”
That really got Rafael’s attention. He briskly walked to a desk and flipped a switch. Several security monitors illuminated along one wall. Camera feeds flickered to life.
The cathedral. The tunnels. The cells. Then—Katalina. All but her eyes covered, I still recognized her immediately.
My chest tightened.
She walked beside Boomslang with her weapons drawn. Hack worked ahead of the group. Mako. Dexter. Zeus. Spook. Thing One. They all had their faces covered, but I knew them like I knew myself. They were my brothers.
What shocked me was Boomslang’s presence. Ordinarily, Killswitch would make our prez stay back. Not that Boomslang liked it, but he was the president. The chapter needed him and he knew it.
Still, he came. The entire rescue team. Alive.
Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.
The Doctor watched the screens for several long seconds, then smiled. “Remarkable.”
Rafael turned toward him immediately. “We’re leaving.”
The Doctor didn’t move. Instead, he calmly murmured, “Not yet.”
“You’ve had enough. We have to go,” Rafael insisted as he zoomed in on Katalina’s face.
“I’ve barely begun,” the Doctor argued, his eyes returning to me. “I finally have him.”
Rafael’s voice hardened. “Katalina is coming. She will kill you. Do you understand that?”
Still… nothing. The Doctor continued calmly making notes. “I require another hour.”
“You have five minutes,” Rafael snapped as he buttoned his suit jacket.
For the first time, the Doctor looked genuinely distressed. “No.”
It wasn’t anger and it wasn’t fear. It sounded like disappointment. Profound disappointment. Finally, he seemed to grasp the gravity of his situation. He hurried between trays, gathering everything he’d collected.
Samples, microscope slides, test tubes, each one disappeared into padded transport cases with practiced efficiency. He spoke while he worked. Almost to himself.
Rafael approached me. Quietly enough that only I heard, he murmured, “I’m only leaving you alive because if I kill you, Katalina will come for me, and I don’t want to have to end her. At least not yet.”
Fury consumed me, and I thrashed as my teeth snapped. Rafael coldly smiled and stepped back as the Doctor bustled between us.
“I can’t believe I finally had you,” he uttered in dismay. His hands never stopped moving. “And now I have to let you go.”
My wolf growled. The restraints screamed as I fought against them. The band burned my throat like I was a fucking dog in a shock collar.
The Doctor glanced over at me. Not annoyed. Almost… affectionate.
“But with your DNA,” he said as he smiled. “So many of my questions will finally have answers.”
Boldly, I stared back. “You’re finished, Doctor.”
“You really think this ends here?” he asked me, eyes wide in surprise.
“No,” I admitted. Because if he left me alive, I would stop at nothing until I hunted him down.
His smile somehow became warmer. “Neither do I.”
He closed the final sample case with a quiet click. “In fact,” He rested one hand atop it. “I believe this is only the beginning.”