Michael
MICHAEL
Deep in the bowels of Taiga was a very different sort of prison to the one had been kept in these last weeks.
No carpet. No television and California King bed. No well-stocked bar and chef-prepared meals. No climate control. No massage shower in an ensuite bathroom.
shivered as he stepped out of the elevator. The corridor was narrow, far narrower than even the ones on the hybrid levels of the facility. Made from gray cinder blocks, with metal doors at intervals. Very small intervals. A barred opening on each cell. refused to glance through them. He didn’t want to know about who … or what else was being held down here.
cursed himself for telling Baxter he was ready to get back to work as he followed the agent along, their steps echoing down the long passageway.
“Use that sweet talking ability of yours … that wheedling part of you that makes people trust you for whatever reason,” Baxter had commanded, “and get the answers I want out of him.”
Those answers being specifically related to the male’s mate. What the mating process was. In what capacity matehood was linked to fertility among Strangers. How often they reproduced with their own kind.
had the impression that Baxter’s theory about Strangers having ‘mates’ was pure guesswork at this point. Otherwise, why would have been sent down here to extract the details from this Drinker … Jude.
Something eerily like dread threaded through every time he thought about Baxter’s casual announcement that he was overseeing a hybrid interbreeding program.
hadn’t had a great deal to do with the facility hybrids. He wasn’t from a science background, and while in theory, he agreed with Operation Stranger’s mission—even more so after seeing Fortis in person in that clearing on Greenrock—he hadn’t ever put much thought into what the hybrids were going to be used for when the time came.
Jack and Blaire had been an experiment to see whether a hybrid raised in human society would be able to blend in better even after their transition occurred. But ’s primary task had been merely to ensure that Jack had as human an upbringing as possible.
To think that they were being bred with one another … for a purpose he couldn’t discern …
Something was rotten at the heart of the Operation. And he wanted out. But that meant treading very, very carefully. It meant toeing Baxter’s line until he could work out what was being done with Jack.
Because he was not leaving this place without his wife … and his son. Even if that son wanted nothing to do with him.
If toeing that line meant sitting in a dank cell with a chained Drinker, befriending him, and pretending he was doing Baxter’s bidding until he worked out a plan, then he’d do it.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” the agent muttered, pressing his thumb against the panel beside the door. With a hiss and a click, the door popped ajar. tried to smile at the agent, but his mouth wouldn’t play ball. And then he walked in, the door snicking closed behind him.
The Drinker—Jude—had a small mattress on the floor. He had a bucket of water and another bucket covered with a dirty cloth, which was clearly for toileting.
Why would Baxter keep anyone like this? Even if it was a Pureblood? Especially if it was a Pure he was supposedly allied with—one who had made donations, had sired at least one hybrid.
Had sired Blaire. Blaire’s father. He wondered where Jack’s sire was … they’d never met him. His sample had been delivered via courier to Gretchen.
He shook the thoughts from his mind, looking the Drinker over. Jude had been scrubbed clean since the last time had seen him. No more gore dangled from his hair and clothes. But thick metal cuffs circled his ankles, joined by a chain that was, in turn, connected to a ring on the wall.
“How are you feeling, Jude?” asked, internally wincing at how ridiculously sunny he sounded, how out of place that tone was, given the setting.
Jude eyed him coldly. His face gave nothing away. All traces of the wariness, the strain of the things Baxter had said to him in that interrogation room, were wiped clean.
“Thirsty,” the Drinker said simply. His eyes darted to ’s throat and then away. knotted his hands behind his back so he wouldn’t be tempted to tug at the collar of his shirt, to try to cover up the pulse point in his neck that was suddenly pounding.
“Are they providing you with … with adequate sustenance?” he asked, planting his feet to stop himself from shuffling from one foot to the other.
Jude’s black eyes stared at him, void of emotion. “Why are you here?” he asked eventually, then added with a humorless chuckle, “Surely not to ascertain my comfort.”
“Do you have a mate?” blurted, cursing himself for his lack of finesse. But this Stranger made him nervous. “Are Baxter’s theories right about … about the two hybrids who …?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He was still too horrified at the thought of what Baxter was doing.
“What is Baxter planning with this breeding program?” Jude asked.
shook his head. “I have no idea. I learned about it at the same time you did.” At least he hadn’t had to lie about that. Giving Jude inside information was not in the brief from Baxter. But getting Jude to trust him … well, that was something that could work in his favor while also fitting in with Baxter’s expectations.
Jude sank to the floor, his back against the wall. He stretched the leg that had been covered in blood the day before out in front of him with a wince.
“Do you have any idea how painful it is to heal a shattered kneecap?” Jude asked conversationally, massaging his knee. His chains clanked. “It’s even more difficult without being able to move properly. But Baxter knows that I’ll make a full recovery, so he doesn’t care if it’s drawn-out agony.”
“I can’t begin to imagine,” murmured. He still woke up in a cold sweat, gasping as he watched that bullet slam into Jack’s chest.
This was the life that he’d signed his son up for. Being put into physical danger because he could heal.
But what was the price of that? What did it do to these immortals’ psyches? Being constantly wounded in violent, painful ways … ways that would mean death or permanent disability to humans … justified away because their bodies could cope with it.
Had Harvey been involved in studying that side of things, being a psychiatrist? Another thing had never bothered to think too deeply about. Another thing to feel regretful about.
’s regrets really were piling up.
“Is Blaire … is she safe?” he whispered, not daring to look at Jude.
The silence stretched, broken only by the muted clank of Jude’s chains. glanced over to find the Stranger had gotten to his feet. His eyes weren’t quite so cold anymore.
“I believe so,” Jude said, his voice low enough that the agent at the guard station wouldn’t be able to overhear. “The blood … I think that belonged to the agent who held onto her too tightly as she … escaped.”
was suddenly grateful that there was no surveillance equipment down here. wondered if Baxter had planned that to ensure interactions with prisoners down here were off the record.
He shuddered, imagining the types of techniques other agents within the Operation might be using to extract information from prisoners.
’s head throbbed with questions. How had Blaire escaped? Had she attacked the agent detaining her? Had she been the cause of the blood and gore covering Jude?
Where was she? And how could he get Jack to where she was … safe from Baxter?
But he couldn’t ask any of these things, even without the specter of surveillance hanging over him. That knowledge simply rattling around in his skull was a liability that could lead Baxter to Blaire. And that was the last thing any of them needed.
“What was she doing at the house?” he asked instead, feeling like that was a safe question.
Jude cocked his head to one side. The predatory look he regarded with had his pulse thrumming with adrenaline.
“I think we’ve spoken enough about Blaire, don’t you?” Jude murmured. “She’s out of Baxter’s clutches, and I’ll happily sit here in chains for as long as it takes to keep her that way.”
’s chest lurched. This male, who barely knew his … his daughter, would make this sacrifice for her. But …
had handed his son over. Or at least he hadn’t pushed too hard against what he’d thought of as inevitable.
“Is she … how is she coping with the transition?” asked, his voice cracking. It was the one thing he had been consoling himself with—that Jack could transition in the relatively controlled environment of Taiga.
But he had to question that, too, in light of everything.
Jude stilled, watching him.
’s face crumpled. “Please, I … I have to know,” he begged in barely more than a whisper.
“She’s thriving,” Jude said simply. Then he glanced towards the door, his head cocking as if listening to something that , with his human ears, couldn’t make out.
Jude’s nostrils flared, his intense gaze flicking back to . “My mate, as you call her, is dead,” he growled. took a step back at the violence glistening in Jude’s eyes. “She died because of Fortis. That is why I chose to ally with Baxter when I learned of Operation Stranger. I have my own reasons to want Fortis put down.”
Jude moved closer, his chains clanking. “You tell Baxter he’d do well to remember it next time he starts demanding answers to questions that are none of his fucking business.”
nodded, the blood leeching from his face. “O-okay,” he stammered, bringing his hands up in a placating gesture in front of him. Or maybe to just feel like there was something … some barrier between himself and the furious immortal with black, blazing eyes. “I’ll tell him.”
“And if he thinks that holding me like this will get me to tell him anything about our kind, about things that are sacred to our kind … then he should know that nothing he can do to me will ever be worse than what Fortis did.”
went cold all over. What had that monster done to Jude, that being shot in the kneecap and held prisoner in conditions barely better than a medieval dungeon, was the milder of the two experiences?
“I …” began, not knowing how to respond.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. ’s mouth snapped shut. It hadn’t been an hour yet, had it?
The buzz and click of a door opening. But it wasn’t the door to Jude’s cell.
“You’re a piece of shit, Harvey,” a woman’s voice grunted. stiffened, his eyes darting to Jude, who nodded once.
Shaking, his stomach churning, crept towards the door and the tiny, barred panel that let fresh air in. In the cell next door, chains clanked.
Daphne. It was Daphne in that cell. Daphne being chained to the wall like she was dangerous. Chained up by her own husband.
shivered.
Daphne. His wife’s best friend. The woman they’d played drunken scrabble with once a month, and who had always won, with the most obscure words that they’d demanded she came with a dictionary to prove herself.
The woman who had sat beside them every Friday night football game, who had rooted for Jack just as much as she’d screamed for Blaire and the cheer squad.
The woman who was godmother to his son.
“I’ve got no choice. I play his game, or he locks us both up like this,” Harvey hissed, his voice quaking. “At least this way, one of us has a chance of finding out what’s happening with Blaire.”
swallowed hard and glanced back at Jude, who shook his head almost imperceptibly. That shake seemed to say, ‘Don’t trust anyone’.
He hadn’t intended to. Even as he felt the guilt like a stone in the pit of his stomach that he had information on Blaire, and he wouldn’t share it with Harvey.
“If he’s trying to interbreed them, Harvey,” Daphne whispered harshly. “Then whatever he told us his aim was to begin with … it’s changed. You can’t trust him. And you certainly cannot let him ever get his hands on our daughter. How’s Jack?”
’s eyes ached with unshed tears at the strength, the conviction in Daphne’s voice. She was the only one of them who had been strong enough to try and make a stand against Baxter. And even after being punished like a common criminal for it, she was still sticking to her guns.
And what had he been doing? Moping in his five-star prison cell while Gretchen had a breakdown, and Harvey tried to play both sides on his own.
“He seems to be coping okay. They haven’t let me see him again since that first time. I don’t think Baxter is trusting anyone now. I’m lucky to even be allowed to see you once a week, to escort you to and from these meetings with Baxter.” Harvey’s sigh trembled. “He seems to think that being able to see you like this is some sort of reward for me, for my continued compliance.”
Daphne snorted. “Baxter’s gone off the rails, you know it as well as I do.” Her voice lowered further, and found himself leaning closer to the little window, straining to hear.
“They’re going to … they think Jack’s mate is one of the other hybrids. They’re going to force him … force them to attempt a mating bond … to see if their theories are right.”
’s eyes flew to Jude again, who had gone rigid, his face like stone.
“ Are they right? Do you honestly believe in this mating-bond thing?” Harvey muttered. “I just don’t understand how the original breeding program worked fine, but now some mystical bond is required.”
The chains rattled some more. Like Harvey was using them to extend his time with her.
was going to throw up. He swallowed back bile.
“They used semen from immortal males with a mating bond,” Daphne explained in a harsh whisper. “Once they’ve bonded, they’re fertile. And they used human ova. Humans have no bond; we’re fertile regardless, so it worked.”
suddenly found that he couldn’t look at Jude. The Drinker had been bonded. Had been capable of siring children with his mate. But she’d died because of Fortis. Jude had supported Baxter, had provided fertile material to help create an army of half-breed immortal warriors in the hopes that Baxter’s plans would help him get his revenge.
And now he was locked in chains in a dungeon. And Baxter was going off script.
“But the hybrids haven’t bonded with mates,” Daphne continued, “which is the only way they can unlock their fertility. They will never be able to reproduce unless they can find their mate and bond with them.”
“Bond,” Harvey murmured. “You mean … have sex?”
“They’re going to make Jack attempt to mate with some hapless hybrid because they think she’s his mate,” Daphne confirmed. ’s stomach revolted, and he swallowed again, bile burning his throat.
“And it won’t work,” Daphne continued in a low whisper, “because Mercer hasn’t figured out that she’s missing one very important piece of the puzzle …”
barely dared to breathe as Daphne hissed out a harsh laugh. An almost insane laugh.
“… and I will take these chains and choke myself to death before I give my knowledge to that power-hungry lunatic Baxter or his sadistic bitch scientist.”