A shudder ran through her, but she didn’t answer, just whipped her gaze around the room to see where she was. It looked like a lab—stainless steel countertops and cabinets and a gurney at one end. The smell of steel and antiseptic tinged sour on her tongue and competed with the sickness rising at the back of her throat. Whatever this place was, her father knew about it… and sent her here. He had turned her over to Agent Smith, casting her aside like yesterday’s trash as soon as he knew she wasn’t his biological daughter.
And Jared… God, Agent Smith shot him three times. Was he dead? She knew from personal experience how fast shifters could heal, but there was a limit… even a tough Marine would have a hard time surviving being shot at point-blank range. The horror of that—of losing him, of it being her fault—ripped through her, gutting her out. Her wolf howled a mournful cry.
“If you’re thinking of screaming,” Agent Smith said, “don’t bother. We’re in a basement that I long ago outfitted with the best in noise suppression. No one comes down here, and you aren’t the first visitor I’ve had.”
Fear for herself pushed through her agony about Jared and seized hold of her chest. But she wasn’t going to let her father just dispose of her. Or let this Agent Smith person experiment on her. She was determined to find a way out, and for that she needed more information.
“What have you done with Jared?” She edged forward, up on her knees, and grasped onto the cage door. The construction was pretty flimsy. Maybe she could wrench the door off its hinges once Agent Smith left her alone.
His smile grew. “I’m sure he’s bled out by now. Although I’m kind of hoping he caught a couple extra bullets before that happened. A little more pain for one of the River brothers would make my day.”
The anger rose up in her, and she gripped the cage harder, curling her fingers around the metal and pushing against it to test its strength. “So you enjoy inflicting pain on people. Nice. Don’t you ever look in the mirror, Agent Smith, and wonder what went wrong with your life?”
He smirked. “I’m not the one in the cage.” Then he cocked his head to the side. “Your father was surprised to find out you were a shifter, but he should have known better, especially given your mother couldn’t keep her pants on.”
The thin bars of the cage bit into her hand. “You don’t know anything about my mother.”
His smile grew. “Your father let his wishful thinking get in the way of the truth—that anyone can be a shifter. In fact, that’s the problem. They’re hiding under the skin of everyone around us, waiting to seduce our women and impregnate them with their spawn. That’s what you are, Grace. The unwanted bastard child of a transient shifter who fucked your mother and left her behind. Your father told me the story. Did he ever tell you?”
She banged her fist against the cage door, and it rattled the entire thing. “All I need to know about my father is that I’m here. With you.”
Agent Smith wheeled his chair closer, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees, templing his fingers. He was getting way too much pleasure out of this. “Yes, you are, Ms. Krepky. And I cannot wait to get started with you.”
The cold trickle in her stomach surged up into a gush, a tsunami of fear that washed through her body. She leaned away from him, then scuttled backward until she bumped against the wire mesh—the cage just wasn’t big enough to go anywhere.
He licked his lips, and Grace’s stomach lurched. “There are so many things I want to do with you, Grace, but don’t worry—having sex with you is not one of them.”
She supposed that should make her feel better, but it didn’t. This Agent Smith character got off on hurting people… he might not rape her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to hurt her. And enjoy it in the process.
Words caught in her throat, but she sucked in a breath and forced them out. “My father said he doesn’t like dead bodies.” She hoped that was actually true. Except it sounded like Agent Smith had already killed Jared. Which made her heart squeeze again, forcing tears to burn at the back of her eyes.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. But we will have some fun along the way.”
He was trying to scare her, so she refused to let his creepy words rattle her. “Your idea of fun is one of those things that comes with a diagnosis. What do you want from me?”
“Well, for starters, I’d like you to shift.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You seem to have a little trouble controlling your wolf. But that’s not anywhere near the most unique thing about you, is it, Grace?”