by Helen Scott
I burst into the Prez's office without knocking, frustration and guilt riding me hard, only to find him sitting there with Striker and Phoenix.
"What?" the Prez demands when he sees my face.
"One of the prisoners, one of the guys, just tried to eat the woman through the bars of the cage."
"Eat her?" Striker raises an eyebrow.
"He was chowing down on her throat like it was a fucking turkey leg at Thanksgiving."
"Did she survive?" Phoenix asks. There’s something in his voice that pricks at my ears. Does he care about her? Why? What has he seen?
I nod. "Instinct had me there in time. I cleaned her up and stitched up her wound as best as I could, but the thing had taken a chunk out of her, man. If it had bitten any further forward, then I wouldn't have been able to treat the wound. She probably would have bled out before I even got there."
"I assume the experiment is dead?" Prez asks, his gaze dipping to my bloodied knuckles.
I nod. "We need someone to get in there and clean it up."
"Have some cannon fodder do it," Prez says dismissively.
I hate the nickname even though I know it’s a self-protection thing. None of us like to get too attached to the newly initiated since they are usually more than a little reckless when they first start out and frequently get themselves killed, which is idiotic since it’s a miracle they survived initiation anyway. It earned them the nickname of cannon fodder, mainly because none of us want to get too friendly until they've been through a couple missions. It’s hard not to care though, even for the Prez, who hides it the most. After all, they come to us with nothing and no one. Part of being an Immortal Hunter is having nothing attaching you to the outside world. We watch them grow from prospects into patched members and then newly initiated members, silently mourning those that don't make it through initiation.
"On it," I say after a moment. I try to stay silent, to keep my opinions to myself, since I know the Prez has his own way of doing things, but a thought I've been debating seems to blurt from my mouth of its own accord. "We should move her upstairs. It'll make her more likely to cooperate with us and keep her safe from the other experiments in the cage next to her."
"Going soft on me, Crash?" Prez demands while he twirls his hunting knife between his fingers.
"Just trying to think about this strategically. She's been a prisoner of the Necron Order for who knows how long, and then we put her in a cage, rightly so since we didn't know how much of a threat she was, but now we know. If the initiated members can't handle her, can't handle one potentially gifted woman, then we have other issues. I think it would go a long way toward getting her to open up to us. You wouldn't have to give her free roam of the compound. Put a prospect or some cannon fodder on the door to keep her in place until we are ready for the next step."
The Prez wavers and I know if I push he'll actually consider it. It’s a dangerous game, but one I feel compelled to play to get that woman to a safer place where she isn't at risk of being eaten by one of the other experiments.
I stuff my hands in my pockets to prevent my fingers from twitching with nerves as I try to explain it. The last thing I need is to piss off the Prez. "She's starved for daylight, touch, real food, free access to water, even decent bathroom facilities. We give her those things by putting her in a room upstairs, throw in some old sweats or t-shirts or whatever from failed initiates, and it will be like heaven to her. She'll trust us more, or at least start to."
"Crash has a point, Boss," Striker says quietly. "Our cells are designed for punishment, and as far as we know, especially with what Phoenix could tell, she's done nothing to deserve punishment, unless you count poor decision-making."
Phoenix has seen something about her? Interesting.
"Fine. Move her up into one of the guest rooms. Give her some clothes, food, and water, but tell her she needs to fuckin' talk or I'll have Striker work his magic," the Prez says, frustration coating his voice.
I glance at Striker, who looks grim at the president's words. I know my teammate hates using his talent for torture, but sometimes there’s no other way. "Will do, Boss," I reply before turning to leave.
"And I don't want a fuckin' prospect guarding her door. They wouldn't be able to keep their hands to themselves with a woman like that. And cannon fodder isn't smart enough to encourage her to talk. One of you four at all times."
I want to groan. The last thing we need to be doing is playing babysitter, but maybe, just maybe, if we’re nice enough she will agree to tell the Prez what she knows and Striker will never even have to take his gloves off.
"I'll help," Phoenix says, popping to his feet.
"Get a fresh read on her once she's settled in her new room. I want confirmation that what you felt before wasn't a fluke." The Prez's parting words are enough to pique my curiosity.
As soon as the door shuts behind us, I look over at Phoenix. "What'd you see?"
"She felt like one of us, like there was demon blood running through her veins, but something was off about it." Phoenix's voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks, which makes complete sense when my brain processes what he’s saying. Someone might have given this woman demon blood? Did they have any idea how dangerous that was? She survived, though. Does that mean she has an ability like us?
Questions flood my mind as we make our way to the guest rooms. These are reserved for anyone visiting from other chapters or if one of us has a special guest or two that we were spending quality naked time with for a couple of days. Most of the guys find plenty of willing pussy on the road, but some have favorites that they like to bring to the clubhouse and fuck until they can’t walk straight before sending them packing once more.
Each room has its own bathroom and closet, and is generally nicer than the dorm rooms the rest of us live in. Occasionally, a member gets too attached to a lady friend and will make her his old lady. In those cases, they usually get a cabin separated off from the main building that is just for them. It’s a lonely life for the women, though, since they aren't allowed to have any outside friends. The risk of someone figuring something out is too great.
The guest rooms aren't kept ready to go, so Phoenix and I make the bed and grab some soap, shampoo, conditioner, and any other necessities we think she might need from the store room. "I'll go grab some clothes if you want to go get her?" I ask, looking at Phoenix.
His eyes light up, although he tries to hide it. "Sure."
"What's got you so interested in her, man?" I ask as we walk down the hall together, away from the room we'd picked. It’s the corner one on the second floor. Easier to protect. The funny thing is, we hadn't even had to talk about it. We both just went there like we knew exactly where would be the safest spot for this potentially dangerous, yet fragile, woman.
"Nothing. I just want to figure out what happened and why the hell someone would volunteer for medical testing like that, and what the hell they were doing with demon blood," he says quietly, though his voice is a higher pitch than normal, letting me know I've pressed too far and he feels defensive.
"She just wanted some all-expenses-paid trip," I say, thinking back to when I'd first talked to her.
"Sure, that's what she said, but couldn't you tell there was more to it than that? She's hiding something. I don't know what, but we need to get her to tell us so we can tell the Prez before he loses his shit and kills her. That secret will be the end of her if we don't figure out what it is first."
As much as I hate to admit it, Phoenix is right. The Prez hates secrets, and an organization like ours would be destroyed from within if we kept any. Which means that Dani’s secret could easily spell her death if we aren’t careful, and for some reason the thought of that makes my chest ache.
8
Dani
After the prisoner attacked me, I felt like hell. My throat and body ached, and it was painful to draw in air. But after a few minutes, the pain began to fade away. I already knew my body was healing. Out of all
the horrible things my time with the scientists brought, healing quickly seemed to be about the only good thing.
Images flash in my mind of when they’d snap one of my bones. I would scream and scream and then they would throw me back in that room. And as I lay there, the bone would slowly knit itself back together until I was healed. It made the scientists happy. Made Dr. Mengele happy.
It terrified me. And it still does.
The thing is, I’m not entirely sure I’m human anymore. I think I might be not much different than the things in the other cages. But perhaps whatever the hell they gave me was a different formula than the others.
And yet, they hadn’t seemed to be able to keep a human normal after what they did to me still, so it could’ve had less to do with the formula and more to do with me. But I can’t be sure, because I’m sure as hell not anything special.
Suddenly, the door to the room opens again, and I scoot back into the corner of the cage. I hate that my body starts to tremble, but as an experiment I was tortured…and before the experiment, I was tortured in an entirely different way. Being prepared for pain seems like the smart move right now.
To my surprise, it’s the hazel-eyed guy again. The one who made me feel so strange when we looked at each other. He crouches down in front of me and runs a hand through his stylish hair, his face uncertain before his gaze meets mine again. I jerk my eyes away, breathing hard. I always thought the idea of being “lost in a guy’s eyes” was the kind of stuff for corney love song, but the actual feeling with him is more unsettling than romantic.
“Dani?”
I draw back even further.
“They call me Phoenix.”
I still say nothing.
“How would you feel about moving out of this cage into a room upstairs?”
This time I do look at him. He doesn’t look like he’s joking, but he has to be, right? No one gives a prisoner a room…
“You’ll have your own bathroom. You can take a shower. Sleep on a bed. You just have to stay in the room for now. Does that sound good?”
“I don’t know,” I say wearily. “What’s the catch?”
“Catch?” He lifts a brow. I try not to notice how gorgeous he is and completely fail.
“There’s always a catch.” I’d learned that one the hard way.
He sighs. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with you, but this is better than staying in a cage, right?”
The man has a point, so I slowly nod.
He unlocks the cage, and I climb out really slowly. Part of me is fully expecting a trap. Even though this guy gives off a “sweet boy-next-door” vibe, there’s also an underlying “who will murder you if you cross my path” thing. So, I’m not crazy enough to just trust his word.
“Good. See? Everything’s okay.”
The soothing way he says it tells me I probably look like a stray cat about to run for it, so I straighten my shoulders and try to stand like I’m not wearing the same clothes I’ve been wearing for weeks. I try to pretend that my hair isn’t a tangled mess, and that I don’t have bare feet.
He smiles. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
I follow slowly behind him as he unlocks the door to the room where I’ve been being kept and leads me out into the hall. I’m kind of surprised by the feel of the place. It isn’t like the lab, with its cold surfaces and bright walls. It has a little more of a military feel, combined with a rigid household. I can’t decide if I like it or not.
We turn down a couple of halls, and I see the stairs at the end. My gaze moves all around the room, and I stiffen when I see a door leading to the outside. The man in front of me…continues toward the stairs. I only have one minute to decide what I’m going to do when I turn and race for the front door. I slam open the door and the scent of wind and rain flows all around me. It awakens something in my soul, but I don’t have time to enjoy it. I just keep running.
I hear the door slam open behind me. “Dani!” Phoenix shouts.
A flicker of guilt awakens inside of me, but I push the feeling down. Sure, Phoenix had been nice to me after a long time of no one giving a shit about me, but I’m still a prisoner with him. And the last thing I want is to be a prisoner again.
Up ahead, I realize there’s a massive gate surrounding the huge property. I switch directions, heading for some woods. Chances are the gate cuts through them, but maybe I can get lost in the trees.
Suddenly, something hard and heavy smashes into me from behind. I go rolling on the ground, and the places that prisoner bit me send a streak of pain through my body. I try to crawl away from the heavy body that covers me, but it’s too much. I half-twist and see Phoenix behind me, and he looks pissed.
For one minute he reminds me of my ex, of my life before the experiment, and my mind goes blank. Suddenly, Phoenix screams and leaps off of me. I look down at myself and see nothing, but it feels like a vibration is moving through my body… like electricity is dancing around me.
What’s wrong with me?
It’s strange, like being in a nightmare, but I stand again and turn toward the woods. The strange feeling vanishes, and my heat races. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my pulse beating in my ears, and then I’m knocked down again. I feel my head hit something hard, and then the world goes black.
I’m gasping in air, confused and disoriented, but I feel myself being lifted.
“Whatever that is? That. Was. A. Mistake,” Phoenix growls. “You’re in trouble now.”
Did I punch him? Knee him? Is that what that weird vibration is?
I wheeze in breaths and struggle, but even I can feel how weak my attempt is. The wind whispers around me, and the smell of nature and the outdoors is amazing. Tears sting my eyes, but my vision remains black. After a time, I hear the sound of a door opening, and then the scents of freedom are gone.
Phoenix’s steps are heavy as he climbs stairs, and I open my lips but only a moan of pain comes. Another door opens, and then I’m dropped on an unexpectedly soft surface.
Spots grow before my vision. But it’s a relief from the darkness.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
It takes me a second to answer. “No.”
He hesitates, then lets out a slow breath. “Then that’s a good lesson for you. You ran from us and got hurt. You were lucky. The next time, you end up dead. Got it?”
So, this really is just trading one cage for another. I was right.
I roll away from the sound of his voice, and I feel a tear slide down my face. Some people are just unlucky, but I’m not. Every single moment of my life was marked by my own bad choices, all of which led me to here. As much as I hate to admit it, all the fault lies with me.
I sniffle, fighting back a full-blown crying session.
Phoenix speaks again. “I’m not going to tell the Prez about what just happened, but I am going to keep a closer eye on you.”
Then I hear the door close again.
And as much as I hate myself for it, I start to cry.
9
Crash
The hard drives these fuckers used were top of the line, and if we ever decided to wipe them clean they'll make a nice addition to my collection. It’s not that I’m a hoarder, just that I hate destroying valuable tech, though it isn't like the MC can’t afford it. I’m just not used to spending money, though I have enough to burn some if I want to.
The Immortal Hunters MC is just like any other one percenter MC. We have our hands in a little bit of everything and most of it is outside the law. We cater to people's needs in a variety of ways, usually the guns and ammunition kind. If they want smack or blow we can get that for them too, we just don't go out of our way to provide it. The only thing we don't touch is trafficking. Women, children, animals, any of that is not up for sale. The bulk of our income comes from private organizations that have strange things happening around them. That and some credit card fraud.
People, even some law enforcement and government officials, will
hire us when shit is getting weird. Sightings of bigfoot, werewolves, and the like. We go in and clean house without leaving a shred of evidence behind. And we get paid well for what we do. That work is usually kept to the inner members of the club though. The Sons of Helsing.
We have to keep up appearances with the MC community so we have some general members that have no clue about the supernatural elements of the world they live in. We are all part of the Immortal Hunters MC. The guys who have no clue just think we like going on hunting trips, which is true...in a way. The inner circle? We are the Sons of Helsing. Not literally, but we’re all monster hunters just like the original Van Helsing, though he mainly focused on vamps, whereas we have broader interests.
It’s the broader interests that keeps us busy. Most vamps have learned to keep their heads down these days and only feed off willing volunteers. I know there is a whole community out there that’s centered around them, and if one starts causing trouble, then we will take them out without blinking an eye. But as a whole, they have been neutered, hunted down until there was just a handful left. That handful knows their place and doesn't stir shit up.
Which is just how we like it, especially since they are so damn hard to kill that it usually costs us a few brothers just to take one out.
Every Son of Helsing knows that the supernatural is out there. We all know how bad things can be. Hell, most of us have seen the horrors these beings cause firsthand. Because of this, it isn't a surprise when I am able to crack one of the hard drives and find the answers to some of our questions land firmly in the realm of the supernatural.
It’s taken me a couple of days to channel my ability enough to guess the passwords so I don't have to bother trying to get around their firewalls and shit, but with the payload I've just hit, I think it was worth it. From the looks of things, they had data on everything from banshees to gnomes, from ghouls to wendigos. I start clicking through some of the folders, all of which are unhelpfully named things like Round One or Test Subject Twenty-Nine.
