"I hope not to have to."
"Do you know when it happens?"
He shook his head no. "Although I cannot control when I shift, I do know now when it is coming. The door is the only entry into this space and it is impenetrable, even by the … creature … I become. I don't want to hurt you, Rachel, but I do need you. I can't let you go until I am able to fix this for your safety as well as for the benefit of myself and countless others."
"What if I don't have what you need?"
"I can use your eggs to create stem cells. Start at the beginning."
He spoke for a while but it was too scientific for her to follow.
"What happens if you shift and you don't get out of here in time? If I'm locked up, I can't protect myself."
He stared at her for a long time. "It won't come to that. I won't allow it."
"But you said yourself, you have no control over it."
"No. I didn't say that," he defended, sounding suddenly annoyed. "I can feel it coming and I have some memory of events."
"That's not going to help me!" she replied, standing.
"Sit down."
"No!"
He took a deep breath and she could see him trying to get himself under control. "Rachel," he began, his tone tight. "I want you to sit down, eat your sandwich, and keep quiet so I can think. All this noise is too much for me."
"Too much for you? Being kidnapped and held prisoner is too much for me!" she said.
He took a step toward her and she panicked, taking one back and throwing her bottle of water at him. He caught it in one hand without even glancing at it. His eyes were on her and they were glaring with anger now. In steps too fast for her to process, he grabbed hold of her, shaking her hard before pushing her to her knees.
"Sit. Down," he commanded.
Her hands were cuffed and his grip too tight; she could only do as he said.
"I'm sorry!" she began, not wanting to look at him, at his crazed eyes. "I'm sorry."
He looked down at her, then behind her. He must have located what he was searching for because in the next moment, he released her and walked behind where she knelt. Her heart was racing and her breath came fast as she watched him return with a roll of duct tape. He tore off a piece and before she could object, taped it over her mouth. Then, without bothering to uncuff and re-cuff her to the beam, he pulled her to it.
"Put your arms up, forearms against the beam." She could only stare at him in panic until he barked, "Now!"
She did as he said, kneeling up on the mattress close to the beam, and watched as he wound the tape around her arms, connecting her to the beam. Only when his phone began to ring again did he stop, throwing the tape down to answer it.
"Weston!" he barked into the phone, still staring at her.
His face changed as she watched and he took some deep breaths, walking away from her.
"No, Dr. Dennison. Not a bad time. Just having … an issue with a specimen."
A specimen?
"That's right, I'm working from home. Was feeling a bit under the weather." There was a pause while the other man spoke, then, "No, I'm sorry, Dr. Dennison, but there may be a complication I was unaware of … that's right … All right, I will touch base next week … Goodbye, Dr. Dennison." He hung up the phone. "Fuck!"
When he turned back to her, he was still angry. "Tell me, Rachel, am I going to conduct your examination while you're conscious or would you prefer another shot of the stuff to help you sleep?"
She shook her head, eyes wide. No way she wanted to be knocked out.
"I'm glad to see you're coming around," he said.
He then picked up a pair of scissors and walked toward her. She stared at the sharp blade and shook her head, making some sound of protest. He came up behind her and gripped a handful of her hair, pulling her head back so she had to look up at him, her eyes filling with tears at the pain.
"I can't examine you through all these layers, can I?" he spat.
She made a sound through her gag, one of utter fear.
"Be good and I'll try not to cut you."
She squeezed her eyes shut when the cold metal touched the back of her neck and she heard the first snip of the thing. She tried to scream through her gag and he yanked her head backward again, warning her.
"Still."
He continued cutting, all the way down her back then along her sleeves until her sweater fell from her body. Her jeans were next. At least he let her hair go and she leaned her head forward, trying to block his touch from her mind, trying but failing when she knelt in her bra and panties.
"Shame to cut these. They're so pretty," he said, mocking her. She glanced over to find him standing back, his head cocked to the side, taking in her almost naked form.
His grin chilled her as he snipped the shoulder straps first. He then leaned over her, bringing the scissors slowly to the center of her chest, sliding the metal down between her breasts and snipping once. She'd never forget that sound as her bra fell to the mattress.
"Mmm … "
She tucked her arms together, trying to cover her breasts as next, he knelt beside her, pulling her body back against his chest.
"Shh … " he coaxed, his breath hot on her ear. She struggled against him, again trying to scream but any sound was muffled by the tape that gagged her. "Shh … "
He ran the scissors down her belly and she watched its progress as he slid one blade inside her panties.
"Be really, really still now," he whispered.
She was frozen and found herself leaning back into him in an impossible effort to get away from the blade.
Snip.
Rachel rounded her back, still trying to put off the inevitable as a tear fell from her eyes and onto his hand. He paused for a moment then lifted his arm. She watched as he brought his face to hers, their cheeks touching. He looked at that tear then licked it away, smiling, before finishing the work of stripping her, cutting away the last shred of her panties.
Chapter Ten
He felt her fear. It gripped him like an ice-cold hand wrapping around his heart. Marcus roared and ran faster. She was in trouble. Serious trouble.
I'm coming, Rachel. He said it over and over again, hoping she could hear him after all this time. Guilt consumed him but in a way, it was what he wanted. She deserved to be happy. His coming back into her life at all had been selfish. He should have made Elijah lie to her, tell her he was dead. If she would have forgotten him, it would have been easier for her.
Talking to Elijah the other day however, he knew she had not. She had been waiting all this time. Hoping. He berated himself, thinking of those eight years he was held prisoner, thought dead. How she hadn't moved on then. How could he think she would move on knowing he was alive somewhere out there? He had been selfish, that was all there was to it.
Her fear was almost vibrating inside him. The more he thought of her, the better he could feel it. It wasn't a thought, not a clear thought at least. It was pure sensation. He wondered if he should have called Elijah. Unless Elijah was in wolf form, he wouldn't hear Marcus. Elijah was closer to her, he could get to her house faster than Marcus. But some part of Marcus, another even more selfish part of him, wanted to be the one who saved her.
Marcus forced all thoughts from his mind and focused on speed.
* * *
He was out of breath as he neared her house. The thought of what he would find there began to molest his mind when, as if right on cue, he heard Elijah. He had never felt so relieved, not even when Elijah had turned up at the lab last year just in time.
Where is Rachel? he asked as he resumed his run.
I'm on my way to her house. You feel it too? Something is wrong? Elijah asked.
It woke me up, her fear. And I was in human form.
Fuck!
Does it have anything to do with that sound the other night? Marcus asked.
I don't know. I'll be there in half an hour. How far are you?
Not too much farther.
You're here? Elijah asked.
Yes.
There was a pause, then: I'll see you at the house.
Hurry.
* * *
Rachel shivered as she knelt there, naked, watching him set up a table in the middle of the room. He prepared needles and vials and other equipment, some of which she'd seen in a doctor's office, some she remembered from science labs in school. It took all she had not to allow panic to set in when, after what seemed like an eternity, Lance donned his white coat without bothering to button it up, placed the scissors in his pocket, prepared a syringe with what she knew was the stuff he'd injected her with to knock her out before, and approached her.