Therian Prisoner(50)
Zophiel ignored the question. “Why did Roberto feel the need to sequester Devon in the old lab?” All she’d sensed within his mind was burning obsession, which was far from rational.
“Everything hinges on gen three and right now Devon is the only one who’s survived testing. Forcing Therians to reproduce will only get us so far. We need to be able to control which abilities are produced in the offspring.”
“Then you’ll control the offspring.” It wasn’t a question, but Carly nodded. Zophiel didn’t particularly care if the backers bred a private zoo populated by designer Therians, but this would drive Nehema crazy. Or crazier. The mental and emotional stability of her sister had always been questionable. “If the project has only been active four years, Milliner will be dead long before the offspring mature. Surely the general wants results in his lifetime.”
“By locking females in animal form, they gestate more rapidly.” Each word passed the human’s lips with obvious effort, as if they were physically painful to her. “The same is true of the offspring. It can take a lion cub as few as thirty-six months to reach maturity. Wolves mature even faster.”
“But how does a Therian survive that long in animal form? The energy drain alone would be debilitating, if not fatal.”
Reluctance became dread as Carly’s revelations became more damning. “It isn’t a continual transformation. They’re allowed to release the shift every few days. This gives their handlers the opportunity to…”
“To what? This is already so deplorable, what could possibly be worse?”
“To train them.”
“So the child is born in animal form and is only allowed to release the shift long enough to be trained? After three or four years of such treatment, the offspring would be more animal than man. Which is exactly what Milliner wants. As long as the animals obey, their savagery works to his advantage.” Zophiel shivered, disgusted by the amoral brilliance of the plan.
Carly remained silent and avoided Zophiel’s gaze.
According to Osric, Carly’s interaction with the backers began four years before, but Zophiel could almost guarantee the project had been active far longer. There was simply no way all this could have transpired in four short years. “How many Therians are being grown in these labs?” Restless anger kept Zophiel in motion. She was only half Therian, but she understood desolation and cruelty.
When Carly just stared at her in silent terror, she grabbed the human’s hair and yanked her head back. “How many?”
“I honestly don’t know.” A harsh sob contorted her features and then she rushed on, “I only recently learned there was more than one lab.”
Zophiel released Carly’s hair and resumed pacing. The human would die, writhing in agony, but not until Zophiel had wrung every fragment of information from her worthless mind. “All right. Let’s go back to Devon and the gen three serum. What makes her so special?”
A deep breath shuddered through Carly as she struggled for composure. “Devon’s reaction to gen two was unusually strong, but her physiological changes were even more remarkable. That’s when I realized Osric was right. Devon wasn’t experiencing Therian heat. We’d triggered the acquisitions phase of her definition cycle. The changes were meant to attract a male and acquire his blood thereby defining her animal nature. It had nothing to do with reproduction.”
“Did you give Devon access to the male so she could be defined?”
“No. We only had one male at the time and he was doing well just to keep up with the defined females. We couldn’t risk her harming him. The formula wore off and the symptoms faded.”
“Until you injected her with gen three.” The human fidgeted within her bonds looking extremely uncomfortable. “I know there is another formula, so what does it do? What were you trying to accomplish with the refined formula?”
Chapter Eight
Devon rushed across the living room and into her mother’s arms. She’d meant to keep her composure, to calmly explain her decisions and defend Ian’s role in her escape. But the moment Devon saw her mother’s tear-bright eyes, her façade crumbled. She clung to her mother and sobbed. She was safe. She was home. Everything would be all right now.
Erin eased back and swiped Devon’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Kyle finally told me about the contract. Is that why you ran at the rest stop?”
“It wasn’t you. It was never you.” She gave her mother another hug before she continued, “I was still so angry and so… I couldn’t deal with everyone’s emotions until I dealt with my own.”