“Ready to earn your keep, Miss Velour?”
Forrester’s voice snapped her out of her sad reverie. “Beast, step back, now!”
Zelron took a step back, but he hooked an arm around Prov’s waist and pulled her back along with him.
“He is very protective of you.” Forrester regarded them both.
“Yeah, well you’re an asshole and he’s not.”
Martin strode into the room, looking the same as he did before, except he was now wearing a pair of latex gloves.
“Exchanging pleasantries already, Forrester?”
“She has a mouth on her, this one.”
“Which will be put to use soon enough.” Martin examined the tray, before selecting an obscenely large syringe compete with a dagger of a needle. Prov, without conscious thought, wrapped her hand around Zelron’s solid muscled arm.
“For obvious reasons, we’ve been unable to collect proper blood samples without drugging our beast here.”
“Don’t call him that. He has a name: Zelron. Use it, or I won’t help you.”
The two doctors glanced at each other.
“You’ve learnt more about him in twenty-four hours than we have in nine months. He won’t talk to us.”
“I don’t frikken blame him.”
“Well, we will keep you two happy as long as you keep us happy. Does that sound like a deal?”
Prov glanced up at Zelron, who stared down at her. He nodded. “Do as they say. They cannot hurt me any more than they already have.”
“His English is quite good,” muttered Martin.
“We have two choices for you. You can come here and willingly give us a sample of your blood…Zelron, or your little woman can draw your blood for us.”
Prov shuddered. She couldn’t shove that big thing into his arm and take blood. “I can’t hurt you,” she whispered.
Zelron turned, pushed her into the corner, and barked the word. “Stay.” Her jaw dropped in half shock as he stepped towards the cell door and placed his arm through it.
“What? Wait! No, you can’t.”
He turned and pinned her with a hard stare, stopping her before she could move. He spun around, his back to her, and her mouth opened and closed like a guppy, not knowing what to do.
“Take the blood. I will not fight.”
“Most civilized. We should have gotten you someone much sooner.”
Not alone…the words rattled around in Prov’s brain. He had gone through all this torture alone. She couldn’t stay in the corner and let him suffer alone. She moved to his left side. He glanced down at her with a disapproving scowl, but it faded when she took hold of his free hand, squeezing it.
Prov winced and felt her stomach churn when Martin jabbed the needle into his arm, and drew several vials of blood.
“All done.” Martin beamed, removing the needle and capping the tubes. “Excellent samples.”
Zelron’s arm still bled from the gaping wound the thick needle left. “I want Band Aids, antiseptic and lots of orange juice.” She pulled Zelron away, putting her hand over his arm to stem the bleeding.
Martin handed her a swab and a Band Aid. She felt as if Zelron was watching her and she glanced up to see his expression was one of curiosity, while she cleaned his arm and put the plaster over it.
“His blood is not the only thing we want out of him today.” Forster moved the tray to the back of the room.
“You’ve got his blood, isn’t it enough?” Stupid question. Her stomach pitched seeing their evil smiles again.
“No, it’s not. We want everything we can examine and possibly use. You are going to collect semen samples for us.”
Saliva suddenly went down the wrong part of her throat and she started coughing. Zelron patted her on her back with a heavy hand, his blows feeling more like they came from a Mack truck. She felt her face turning a bright red.
“Breathe slowly, Providence,” Zelron rumbled.
“We thought you might protest, and we’ve been patient and nice. We’re not asking you to fuck him, yet. Simply get him off and collect the samples.” Martin put a glass container on the edge of the cell door shelf.
“We’re not worried about viability of live semen today. So, we’ll give you till the end of the day to have this container filled.”
Prov shook her head. The heat of Zelron’s hand still lingered on her back. “Not possible. Even a human man would—”
“I’m not sure if you noticed yet, Miss Velour, but your friend is not human.” Martin tapped the container. “With the right incentive, I’m sure you can get it done. Oh, and if it’s not, we will introduce you to these.”
As if on cue, two bulky, six-foot tall guards in white shirts and black slacks stepped into the room, each carrying what looked like red spear guns, only there were claw-like pincers on the end. Prov gasped seeing them spark, like cattle prods.