Claimed by the Beast(13)

He opened the door of the motel room where he had spent the night and  walked outside and around the back of the building. He walked off into  the darkest streets, far enough that he wouldn't be observed even if  someone happened to walk by this time of night. There, he stripped off  his clothes and, within a few moments time, he shifted into his wolf  form.



* * *



Elijah woke early when he heard Clarissa begin to stir, hungry for her  first feeding of the day. He quietly walked out of the bedroom to let  Kayla sleep and went to pick up the baby. Her cries ceased when she  looked up into his face, and he carried her into the kitchen to warm a  bottle for her. Once he was settled, he took his cell phone off the  charger. Four calls, three he recognized, a fourth one he did not. No  message from that one. He looked at the number again. It wasn't local,  but it wasn't out of state either. He set it aside and turned his  attention to the baby in his arms.



* * *



When Rachel woke, she was lying on her back, her arms extended at an  awkward angle overhead. She made a sound and heard his footsteps before  even opening her eyes and realized she hadn't been dreaming. She had  been kidnapped by this man who turned into some sort of animal, an  animal far more frightening than any shifter she had ever seen.

"You've got the gene," he said.

She opened her eyes and looked up to find him smiling the strangest smile.

"Or some variation of it at least. That's why I was drawn to you. That's why your scent was too powerful to ignore."

She sat up, her head hurting a little. She moved so she sat on her heels closer to the beam to which she was handcuffed.

"What did you give me?" she asked.

"Just something to relax you, help you sleep."

"My head hurts."

"And you're thirsty I'm guessing. I'll get you a glass of water and some  aspirin. Would you like something to eat?" He checked his watch.

"How long have I been out? How long have I been here?"

"A little while. It's Monday morning. I'm going to get you something to eat and drink."

"I have to use the bathroom," she said.

The look on his face told her he clearly hadn't considered that.  Reluctantly, he walked over and squatted down in front of her. He looked  at her for a long time, then reached into his pocket to retrieve the  key to unlock the handcuffs and left them so they hung off one wrist.  Once he had freed her from the beam, he gripped her arm and roughly  stood her up. "Don't try anything. Don't make me hurt you," he  threatened.

She glanced at his white-knuckled hand wrapped around her arm, then  returned her gaze to his face. Something was wrong with him, it was like  something would take hold of him and his mood would change from instant  to instant. He was unpredictable, desperate, and dangerous.

"I won't. I promise. I just have to pee." He held onto her, still  staring at her. "Please, you're hurting me now." Nothing. "Lance?" she  asked, using his name, hoping to snap him out of it.

He blinked several times and his eyes softened a little. He then looked  at his own hand as if he just realized how tightly he was holding onto  her.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," he said, releasing her. "Bathroom is upstairs. All  the doors and windows are locked. Shades are drawn and I live on a large  acre of land. You won't be able to overpower or outrun me. If you do  try to run or scream, I will punish you. Do you understand?"

She nodded, believing every word he said.

He then smiled at her, the first genuine smile she had seen on his face,  and led her up the stairs. She looked around. The kitchen was off to  her right, and a great room made up the rest of the space. The sofa had  been torn apart, the stuffing strewn about, the coffee table had been  split down the middle, and the place looked like it had been ransacked.

"This way," he said, pushing her toward the bathroom.

She glanced at his eyes once more, realizing the immense power within  him, the animal that, she was slowly understanding, was not within his  control.

She walked into the bathroom but when she went to close the door, he wouldn't allow it.

"I'll wait outside in case you need me," he said.                       
       
           



       

"I'd rather close the door for some privacy."

"I'm sorry but that won't be possible."

"What do you think I'm going to do in here? There's a toilet and a sink!"

He remained calm but she wondered what emotions were just beneath that  exterior. In the short time she had known him, his behavior had been  erratic, unpredictable. He folded his arms across his chest and she knew  the conversation was over. She went inside and used the bathroom as  quickly as she could, washed her hands and stepped out. He took her back  downstairs without incident and cuffed her to the beam once again.

"I'll be right back with a sandwich, water, and some aspirin for you. Be good."

Rachel looked around, realizing she would be his captive here for as  long as it took for Elijah to realize she was missing and then find her  or until Lance Weston decided to release her. But he wouldn't do that.  She knew it. He knew she carried the gene. She was valuable to him.

The sound of a cell phone ringing startled her and she looked over at  the counter. After four rings, it went to voice mail just as she heard  Lance returning. He knelt on the mattress in front of her, set down a  sandwich and a bottle of water, and fished for the keys to the handcuffs  in his pocket. He unlocked them then re-cuffed her hands together in  front of her. From his other pocket, he retrieved a bottle of aspirin,  dropped two onto his palm and held them out to her.

"Here you are," he said. "Eat a few bites first, then take these."

He confused her. It was something her mom would have said. She picked up  the bottle of water but realized she couldn't take the lid off, bound  as she was. He took it from her and twisted the top off before handing  it back. He then watched her take a sip and waited until she picked up  half the sandwich and took a bite before rising to his feet. His phone  was blinking with a message and he picked it up to listen to it. She  watched his face while he listened and noticed the tension there, then  the annoyance.

"Damn you, Dennison!" he said, slamming the phone down on the counter.

"What is it?" she asked.

He turned to her, his expression a warning. "An unpleasant man," he  answered. That was when she noticed the slight trembling in his left  hand. Well, she probably only noticed it when he did. He put his right  hand over it and squeezed. He seemed to grow more frustrated as he  looked down at his hand. He then reached into the small refrigerator and  retrieved a syringe. For a moment, she was afraid it was intended for  her. She exhaled in relief when he held out his left arm and pressed the  needle into it. He stood there a moment, eyes closed, breathing hard.  Slowly, the trembling in his hand subsided and he turned to her looking  refreshed.

"Finish your sandwich, I need to examine you."

She wanted to ask what had just happened but he caught her off guard. "Examine me?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Yes. I need to test the particular version of the gene you carry to  understand it. However, even if you do not carry exactly what I need,  your eggs might."

"I don't understand," she said. "I'm not a shifter."

"You saw what I became the other night, Rachel?"

She nodded.

"That was not my intent when I injected myself with the serum. Let me  back up. Some years ago I was asked to take part in a study that, if  successful, would cure countless human diseases, my own among them. I  was sent a number of tissue and blood samples over the years and I was,  finally, successful. However, the lab I was working with was destroyed  before my own research was finished, effectively ending the supply of  samples I needed."

"When I say successful, at first, the drug worked as I hoped it would.  Any trace of the disease, Parkinson's in my case, vanished. My senses  grew stronger, I grew stronger. But that wasn't all … " He looked away for  a moment. "I only intended to create a cure for a disease. Not only for  myself, but for others suffering from it, but you saw what happened the  other night. Now I need to learn where I went wrong, cure this  unfortunate …  side effect …  and re-create the drug without it. When I came  across you, your scent drew me. As a scientist, I understand how you  can be of use to me. But as the creature, it was a different draw.  That's another reason I need to keep you here until this is finished,  until the …  animal …  is no longer. I need to keep you here, in my lab,  safely locked out of reach, away from harm. Safe from me when I turn  again."

"You can't keep me here forever."