15. Just Drink It
FIFTEEN
JUST DRINK IT
Seven
H e’d been drinking my blood. An agent had knowingly given him my blood. I was certain of it.
But why?
And why was my schedule suddenly in a complete state of flux?
I hadn’t been raped today.
Normally, after lunch they would send a male to my room. I waited and waited. For hours after I was escorted back to my room, without any lunch, I waited. And there had been no crackle of the intercom, no warning to prep myself.
I spent the entire afternoon lying on my bed, pondering the scratches on my wall and that one bloody mark from the day my claws had refused to work. It did nothing to distract me from these thoughts swirling around in my head.
He’d arrived, and everything had started to change. Getting caught up in whatever was happening with Twelve and Nineteen. The intermittent bouts of being able to shift through the drugs. The interrogation from Baxter. Spending far too much time in the lab with Mercer. Being locked in my room without lunch.
Not being raped today.
I reached into the shallow pocket of my jumpsuit, tugging out the picture … the card that I’d managed to swipe off the floor in the aftermath of the chaos of the mess hall. I turned it over and over in my hands.
Of all the cards—fifty-two, I remembered him telling me—I’d picked up the one he’d called ‘Jack.’
It was a red one. I think he’d said the two red suits were diamonds and hearts. I couldn’t work out what that even meant, but the odd shape, with a sharp point at one end and two curves meeting at the other …
It’s a heart . The whisper was convinced. It’s Jack’s heart .
I sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. His smell was still in my nostrils.
Oh, he smelled so good. It had been all I could do when I’d been flung against him earlier to stop myself from grabbing him and shoving my nose against his skin to suck that scent right into me. To stop my teeth from sharpening, to see if he tasted as good as he smelled …
You’ll have your chance … the whisper assured me. Which only made my stomach churn. I didn’t want a chance to do anything with him … or any other male. But especially him.
He terrified me.
The whisper chuckled deep in my mind.
The door buzzed and clicked. I shot upright, shoving the card back into my pocket, out of sight. Tense, waiting. Expecting a male to walk in … to be told to get on my hands and knees for my servicing.
The new agent in charge of me pushed the door open, balancing a tray in her hands. I inhaled, my stomach growling demandingly. Roast lamb. My favorite.
“You’re to eat in here tonight,” the agent explained with a small, wry smile. “After the debacle in the mess hall earlier, it’s been decided that it might be better for you to have some space from the others.”
I honestly couldn’t find it in me to care as she approached, placing the tray on the bed in front of me.
But then the smell of the cup beside my plate hit my nostrils, and I leaped from the bed.
His blood didn’t smell the same as him … it wasn’t that exact earthy, salty scent. But it still smelled better than any other blood I’d ever encountered.
I knew it was his. Because I’d smelled it earlier. In the mess hall, when that crazed hybrid had ripped a hole in his arm.
Mine.
MINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINEMINE!
“Seven, is everything alright?” the agent asked carefully. I blinked, my fists clenched, and glanced over at her. Her expression was worried … but kind. It struck me again how much she looked like Greta, Mercer’s lab assistant. They could have been sisters.
“What’s your name?” I blurted.
“It’s Grace,” she mumbled, a hint of pink staining her cheeks. “Agent Grace Petersen.”
I blinked again. It was the first time any agent had introduced themselves to me by their first name.
But the smell of his blood …
“Agent Grace,” I began, jaw tight, because oh, I wanted to rush to that cup and drink, to taste … to guzzle it all down.
I cleared my throat, my nails digging into my thighs. “Why is … that blood in my cup?”
I watched her face carefully. Would I be able to tell if she was lying?
The pink in her cheeks drained away.
“Please, Seven … just drink it,” she pleaded, and then her eyes flicked up to the camera in the corner of the room. A movement so small that from the angle it captured the room, the camera would not pick it up.
“I’m not thirsty,” I grated. I didn’t care what game she was trying to play. What game they all were playing. They’d fed him my blood … now they were trying to feed me his?
It had felt too coincidental earlier in the mess hall. Now it felt premeditated.
“It won’t change anything. Just … trust me on that.” Her words were so low that it was only my Shifter hearing that picked them up.
Trust? She wanted me to trust her?
It didn’t matter to me how kind her face was. She had still sat out there at her little desk and watched a male rape me.
“I want to be alone,” I growled, my nails piercing my jumpsuit. No, not nails. Claws. They’d shifted. I kept them there, kept them hidden. I didn’t want to be drugged tonight.
“If you don’t drink it, they’ll find a way to force it into you.” Her words were barely a breath, but I heard them as if they’d been screamed into my skull. “They think they know what they’re doing, but they don’t. Please, trust me when I say that it’s safe for you to drink.”
And before I could ask her anything else, she bustled from the room, the door clicking with a finality that terrified me.
‘They’ll find a way to force it into you.’
‘They think they know what they’re doing … but they don’t.’
The worst thing was, I felt like maybe I had an inkling of what they were trying … and it was the absolute last thing I would ever let happen.
You’ll want it , the whisper insisted. You’ll want it, and you won’t be able to resist.
I would. I would resist. I didn’t want this.
I didn’t.
My appetite for the fragrant lamb had disappeared, thanks to the conversation with Agent Grace. But I reached out, plucked up that cup of delicious-smelling blood, and took a long pull on the straw, gritting my teeth so I didn’t moan as the flavor hit my tongue.
My own blood was vibrating in my veins by the time I’d finished the last drop. But I was determined to drink it all. Because no matter what I thought about Agent Grace expecting me to trust her … the thought of someone else—someone like Mercer—forcing it down my throat … that was far worse.
I didn’t sleep well that night. My body hummed. I wanted to claw off my own skin … because it was either that or give in to the persistent sensations and touch myself.
‘Safe to drink’, she’d said. I wanted to laugh, except I was on the verge of hysterical tears instead.
I throbbed in the most agonizing way, to the point where ignoring it was painful. To the point where I had shredded my blanket, clawing at it to stop myself from reaching between my legs and relieving that intense ache.
I wondered if that was why they’d given me the blood? If they’d known that it would make me need like this? Did they want me to be desperate for release the next time they sent in a male to service me?
Or were they watching my camera feed right now, making notes on how his blood affected me?
I hated them all.
Would my blood have affected him like this if he’d had a chance to drink it all? And why did his blood do this to me?
You know why …
I thought about the way Nineteen had demanded and then pleaded to be taken to Twelve. How he’d clawed at his chest. How he’d crawled, a healing bullet hole in his stomach, to get to her.
How Twelve had screamed, and choked, and cried, that he was too far, that she needed him.
Mine.
They’d used that word … I couldn’t stop thinking it.
I couldn’t let them do to me what they were doing to Twelve and Nineteen. I didn’t want anyone or anything to have that much control over me.
For the first time, I thought beyond the numb dread I felt every time they sent a male in to rape me to what the purpose of that rape was. For the first time, I imagined—really imagined—growing an infant inside me. One that I hadn’t wanted, hadn’t consented to. One that would be brought up in this place. To endure the same fate as me.
Things could get so much worse for me.
The door buzzed. I shuddered, exhausted, but wired. Was it time to go to breakfast already? My body still hummed with his blood. I willed my claws to shrink.
“Don’t,” Agent Grace whispered hurriedly. “Leave them out. Don’t waste time.”
Suddenly I was humming for a very different reason. Anxiety bloomed in my gut, spreading outwards.
“What do you … why?” I asked, sitting up and wincing at how sensitive I was between my legs. Cursing myself as a fool for not just sorting out that problem.
“Up,” she muttered, coming over and gripping me firmly but not roughly by the elbow. Her eyes burned up at me.
“There’s no time. They’re bringing him now. I thought … I imagined it would be done after lunch, like it normally is.”
My heart dropped to my feet as I absorbed her words. I didn’t need to ask her who the ‘he’ was … or why they were bringing him.
“When the lights go out, you run. Alright? I’ll make sure the door is unlocked. But you need to run . He’ll know which way to go.”
I stared down at her, a thrum of energy in my extremities.
Run?
Did she mean … escape?
What was happening?
“You need to pretend, Seven,” she hissed hurriedly. “Until the lights go out, you need to pretend that this is just a normal servicing.”
My stomach hollowed.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
Even the whisper agreed … to an extent.
Not like this. Never like this …