Chapter 7
7
P ari opened her eyes slowly. Soft white light shone down on her. She didn’t recognize it, nor did she recognize the lights themselves. They were recessed, and she wondered if she’d woken up in a hospital. Had she been in an accident?
She closed her eyes, opened them again, and looked at herself. She was wearing a hospital gown. Okay, so she was in a hospital. But what happened to her?
She closed her eyes again, and when she tried to open them, found she couldn’t. She moaned with the effort and tried to turn her head. She couldn’t do that either. Seemed the only thing working were her eyes… well, okay, they weren’t working anymore. But at least they had been.
She tried listening instead but heard nothing. Then came a small sound, and she tried to open her eyes again.
Nope. Not working.
Pari cursed in her head and noticed her breathing. Her chest rose and fell normally, as if she were asleep, and she had the sudden thought she was dreaming. Pari hoped she was. That meant she’d wake up at home in bed and pray she hadn’t slept through her alarm.
She waited, listened, and heard that strange sound again. It was coming from her left. She tried opening her eyes again and this time it worked! She tried to track the sound and discovered the walls of the hospital room were… glass? What?!
She tried moving her head again and was able to move a tiny bit. Her eyes darted left, right, up, down. Yes, glass. Thick, heavy, impenetrable looking glass. But not every wall. Just the one to her left and in front of her. The wall on her right looked like concrete.
Her breathing picked up as fear coursed through her. Where was she?
Pari looked down the length of her body as well as she could. Hospital gown, her hands atop her stomach. Why could she not move? What had they…
Her eyes widened. They! But who were they?
Her chest grew tight. Could one have a panic attack while drugged? She hoped not. With her luck she’d retch and choke on it.
The sound came again, and her eyes darted up and to the right far corner. A camera was there, and it moved slightly, causing the sound. Did it not take in the whole room?
She looked left, at the thick wall of glass and blinked. Had she blinked at all before?
Pari’s eyes widened a second time. An incredibly tall man lay upon a sheet-covered mattress on top of a thick glass cot built into the wall. He was placed in the same position she was. She couldn’t see him well but did notice he had handsome features and long white hair. Yet, he was young, maybe mid to late twenties. He had dark eyebrows and eyelashes. And, like her, he wore a hospital gown.
“Ah, good. You’re awake.”
Pari sucked in a tiny breath at the voice. It was male, British…
“No, you can’t move. The drug not only knocks you out but keeps you from getting up right away. Ingenious really. Now, why don’t we get acquainted? Bring her out and strap her to the examination table.”
Her heart sped up. No! Who was this man? What was going on?!
Two men wearing white lab coats entered the glass room, lifted her useless body onto a gurney, and wheeled her into what seemed like a huge lab. They lifted her onto a long, wide metal table, then proceeded to strap her to it. Pari could feel the cold metal against her lower back, bare behind, and legs. She shivered but no one seemed to notice.
They strapped her wrists and ankles to the table, then pulled a strap across her mid-section and another over her knees. She wasn’t going anywhere.
A tear slid down her cheek. She was terrified!
An older man, maybe late fifties, early sixties, looked down at her. His light red hair was mixed with gray and combed back. His beard and mustache neatly trimmed. Pale blue eyes looked her over carefully as he smiled.
Pari cringed. He looked excited, and not in a good way.
“I was going to examine you while you were unconscious, but decided I’d wait until you were at least a little coherent.” He leaned toward her. “And under control. I wouldn’t want you to slip away.” He smiled again, and a chill went up her spine.
“Now, let’s begin,” he stated with glee. “Oswald!”
A man appeared on the other side of the table. Pari recognized him. He was the man that was in her apartment!
“Yes, Dr. Charles.” He looked down at Pari, then gave his attention to his superior.
“I want a full blood work up. Tissue samples, the works. I want to know if she’s Muiraran.”
“Yes, sir.” Oswald smiled down at her. “Will she feel us working on her, sir?”
Dr. Charles frowned. “Does it matter? Besides, if she can, then we can better determine how much Muiraran blood she has. They’re stronger than humans. They can take a lot of pain.” He looked her up and down. “Let’s find out how much you can take.”
Pari shuddered as fear gripped her, making it hard to breathe.
There came a thud from behind her and to her left.
“Ah, look who else is awake!” the doctor chortled. He looked down at Pari and patted her arm. “There must be quite a bit of Muiraran in you if he’s so determined to reach you.”
Thud…thud… thud…
Dr. Charles watched with amusement, then looked down at her again. “In case you’re wondering, he’s throwing himself at the door to his cell.” He glanced toward the sound again. “And that’s after we put enough sedative in him to drop three elephants.” He looked her up and down. “So, my dear. What’s so special about you that makes him fight so hard to get to you, hmmm? Let’s find out.”
He looked at the man called Oswald who still stood on the other side of the table. “Proceed.” He turned to someone out of her line of vision. “Tranq him. I want him napping while we work on her. Twenty cc’s ought to do the trick.”
He patted Pari’s arm again. “My own special recipe. Works well, though we’re still trying to figure out the correct dosage to keep him docile.” He left the table and she could no longer see him.
The thuds against the glass wall were getting louder.
She heard the cocking of a gun, followed by a “phhhnt” sound, then a low guttural growl. Was there an animal in here somewhere? A wolf perhaps or big cat?
There came another loud thud followed by a few more, but they grew weaker, fainter, and eventually stopped all together.
Oswald tied a thin rubber strap around her right arm, felt around for a vein, rubbed some damp cotton over the area, then jabbed her.
Pari flinched.
“Sorry,” Oswald said, voice soft. “I’m sorry about earlier too.” His eyes darted to another part of the room. “In your apartment,” he whispered.
Pari stared at him. Did this Oswald have a conscience? If so, would he help her escape?
“He’s down?” she heard Dr. Charles ask.
“Affirmative,” a man called back.
“Good, let’s bring him out and run some tests. No sense wasting time. Let’s hook him up to an IV in case we need to sedate him again. And for Heaven’s sake, strap him down tight.”
Dr. Charles came into her line of vision again and stood next to her table. “You, on the other hand, we’ll question. I want to know everything there is to know about him.” He tossed his head at the other table.
Pari’s eyes moved in that direction, and she found she could turn her head more than an inch or two now. The movement was slow, laborious, but she managed it.
Like her, they’d put the big man on a gurney and wheeled him alongside the empty steel table. It had to be eight feet long, and she noticed it took five men to lift him from the gurney onto it. That done, they began to strap him down. The straps were thicker than hers, and she noticed the table she occupied was shorter. One for him, one for her, as if they knew what they’d need.
The thought made her shiver. She was so preoccupied watching the men strap their tall, handsome prisoner to his table and hook him up to an IV, she hardly noticed Oswald taking more than a few vials of her blood.
“There,” he said, drawing her attention. “Now the biopsies. I’m afraid those aren’t going to be very pleasant.”
“Oswald,” came the doctor’s voice. “Stop talking to her and get to work. She doesn’t need a step-by-step guide to what you’re doing.”
Oswald blanched. “Yes, Dr. Charles. Sorry.” He gave Pari a sympathetic look.
“And if she starts talking, gag her.” Dr. Charles ordered.
Oswald heaved a sigh, his eyes still on Pari’s. “Yes, doctor.”
“I’m going to check on security,” she heard the doctor say. “I’ll be back.”
Pari listened to the sound of his footsteps cross the room followed by a door opening and closing. That was followed by a series of ominous clicks, like locks sliding into place. She wondered if it was some kind of mechanical locking system or if he’d locked the door manually.
She pushed the thought aside and studied the other prisoner. He was tall, at least seven feet. His beautiful white hair was long, braided in spots, and his chiseled features were enough to make any woman swoon, including her. His forearms were well-muscled, as was the rest of his taut frame as far as she could tell. He wasn’t built like some Olympic body builder, but he was impressive all the same. Pari’s belly warmed just looking at him, and she had to force herself to look away. When she did, she noticed her breathing had picked up.
Good grief, here she was strapped to a table, had some doctor named Oswald arranging medical instruments on a tray next to her, and she was ogling the other prisoner! Now was not the time. She had to find a way out of here. But how?
She watched Oswald as he filled a syringe with something. Oh no, he wasn’t going to sedate her again, was he?
“N-no,” she managed.
He looked down at her, set the syringe on the tray and opened a drawer. She thought it must be built into the table as she watched him pull something out.
Oswald sighed in what sounded like resignation. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t want me talking to you.”
He held the item up. It was some sort of wide leather strap with something protruding from the middle. A gag.
Fear pulsed through her, and she shook her head. “No…”
The man on the table next to her jerked, as if he’d heard her. She looked his way as Oswald stuffed the middle part of the gag into her mouth and proceeded to buckle the contraption tightly behind her head.
Pari ignored him as she watched the man on the other table stiffen before his eyes sprang open. He turned his head and looked right at her.
Her own eyes widened. His were a brilliant blue. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say they were glowing!
The man’s eyes moved to Oswald, and he narrowed them, his mouth opening slowly, his upper lip pulling back from his teeth.
Pari’s eyes widened. The man had fangs! He hissed at Oswald, who, finished gagging Pari, grabbed the syringe he’d filled earlier.
Oswald hurried around her table and plunged the needle into the other prisoner’s IV. Pari watched helplessly as the man’s bright blue eyes faded to a steel gray, then shut altogether. He was sedated once again.
Another tear slipped down her cheek. How was she to escape? And why was she and the man next to her taken to begin with? What did these people want with them?
Pari squeezed her eyes shut. Dr. Charles, or whatever his name was, mentioned he wanted to question her. Well, she had some questions of her own, and she could only hope and pray he answered them.