by Lexi C. Foss
Her lover shrugged. “As you wish.”
“Oh, I’m enjoying this far more than I should.”
“Enjoy it,” Jayson replied. “It’ll be short-lived.”
“So confident for an immortal completely at my mercy. I did give you the option to leave.”
Jayson’s eyes smoldered as he narrowed them over her shoulder. “You did, and trust me when I say I won’t be returning the favor.”
“We’ll see.” John sounded more amused than frightened, something Lizzie suspected would be a mistake. Because Jayson’s expression had transformed from polite boredom to lethally serious.
“We will,” he agreed, voice colder than she’d ever heard it.
A frantic knock sounded at the door, sending relief to Lizzie’s heart. That must be Jayson’s backup, though why the Hydraian’s would knock— “Lizzie!” Stas’s voice called through the door. “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to open up!”
Jayson flinched as John sighed. “And there’s my answer.”
“It would appear so, sir,” Stark agreed. “Shall I let her in?”
“No, Lizzie will do that for us.” The knife disappeared from her throat. “Be a dear and let Stas in, and don’t even think to warn her, or Stark will put a bullet in Jayson’s head. Actually…”
He removed his arm and turned her to face him, his expression excited.
“I’ll allow you a choice, Lizzie. Warn Stas, Jayson dies. Don’t warn Stas, Jayson lives, and, well, we’ll see what happens.”
“Oh, fuck no,” Jayson growled.
Lizzie shook her head as tears collected behind her eyes. “That’s an impossible choice.” Jayson or Stas? She could never pick between them. As angry as she was at Stas, she didn’t want to hurt her.
And Jayson… The idea of losing him twisted her up inside.
No.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him die.
But Stas…
Another frantic knock had John grinning. “Tick tock, Lizzie. Make a decision. Now.”
“I-I can’t. You can’t—”
“Shoot him,” John instructed. “Now.”
“No!” Lizzie jumped backward on instinct, placing herself between Stark and Jayson. “No. I’ll… I’ll decide. I’m deciding. I just…” She trailed off as a violent tremor shook her from head to toe.
Jayson’s gesture of kneeling and accepting his fate left her without a choice.
She couldn’t let him die. Not for her.
And John didn’t know about Stas’s immortality, at least according to their intelligence. That could be used to their advantage, as well as her ability to persuade.
Lizzie swallowed, her resolve solidifying.
This was the appropriate play and the only one that kept Jayson alive. Because the look on Stark’s face said he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, even if it meant shooting through her.
“I-I’ll open the door,” she decided as yet a third knock sounded, followed by Stas begging Lizzie to talk to her and Jayson’s phone vibrating again.
“Excellent,” John replied. “Escort Stas in here, please.”
Lizzie nodded even as Jayson said her name in warning.
“You’re not the only one who gets to make sacrifices,” she whispered as she turned toward her fate. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably as she unlatched the door.
“Oh, thank God,” Stas said as she threw her arms around Lizzie. “The CRF is coming. Jacque left for reinforcements, but I demanded he drop me off first to warn you and Jayson, who isn’t picking up his phone.”
Lizzie awkwardly hugged her back while her mouth refused to work.
Run, she wanted to say.
Stay, her heart begged.
Because Stark probably had his gun to Jayson’s head, and the image sent a chill down her spine. She swore her soul cried at the thought. They had decided to be exclusive but never discussed their feelings.
This situation told her all she needed to know.
She loved him. More than she ever knew was possible.
Tom had been a crush.
Jayson? He was the real deal, and his life hung in the balance because of her indecision.
But her best friend… She loved Stas too.
An unfair choice.
She squeezed her friend as the emotions threatened to destroy her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Stas murmured. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have told you, especially about—”
“Don’t,” Lizzie said, cutting her off before she could say the name that would derail everything. Tom. “I… We…”
God, how could she walk her friend into the lion’s den? How could she leave Jayson there to suffer?
He stayed for her.
He kneeled for her.
He took the collar for her.
It was about more than duty and protection for him. She knew with her soul that he felt the same abnormal connection, and saw it in the way he looked at her. Even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.
Love.
Or at least the beginning of it.
“You’re shaking.” Stas pulled back to grasp Lizzie by the shoulders. “I promise the CRF won’t touch you.”
Too late.
Stas’s lips curled down as she studied Lizzie’s expression and, worse, her neck. “How…?”
“I’m disappointed, Lizzie,” John said as he joined them in the hall with a gun in his hand. “But not nearly as disappointed as I am with you, Stas.”
Her best friend froze, her lips working on silent words as shock drained the color from her features.
“It’s a shame,” he continued. “You had so much potential, but I’ve suspected for some time that you were playing both sides. I assume your lover is as well, which is truly his loss. What me and my benefactor are creating is far greater than Issac can even imagine.” He sighed dramatically. “Well, he can consider this a message. Goodbye, Stas.”
The bullet cracked through the air before Lizzie could blink.
She yelped in response.
And screamed as the life drained from her best friend’s eyes.
It happened so slowly.
Her body seemed to float in the air, suspended in time as death registered.
And suddenly she was falling to the ground, her green eyes wide with emotions left unsaid.
Lizzie collapsed as her knees gave out. “No!” she screamed, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. “NO!”
She shook her head as the tears fell.
This couldn’t be happening.
He didn’t kill Stas.
Her immortal genetics…
Except he said they were incendiary bullets—specially manufactured to kill immortals of all types. Fledglings included.
“No,” she sobbed, her body folding over the ground as the weight of emotion crushed her spirit. “No, no, no…”
“Lizzie,” John said, his voice holding a sharp demand. “I need your focus.”
She shook her head, unable to yield. He’d just killed her best friend. Without a single ounce of remorse. As a fucking message.
NO.
Quivers racked her spine as she fought to breathe through the pain.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Another gunshot.
This one at the end of the hall, leading into the living area.
She glanced up into Jayson’s vacant eyes and blinked in disbelief.
No.
He wouldn’t… That… He promised…
“You made your choice,” John murmured as he holstered his gun above Jayson’s corpse. “He paid the consequences of your indecision. But don’t worry, Lizzie. You’ll have a long, long time to live with the repercussions of this moment, as I suspect his life lives on inside you now.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
Jayson…
Dead.
Because of her.
This had to be a ba
d dream.
Just yesterday he kissed her on the beach.
But his eyes…
So broken.
So… lifeless.
His lips were parted on words she didn’t hear. Did he say her name? So shadowed in her own grief over losing her best friend, she didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
He would never know how she felt.
Jayson died thinking his sacrifice meant nothing, that she wasn’t willing to make the same choice, that she didn’t love him as he did her…
Oh, Jayson.
Something shattered inside her, rendering her immobile.
Her soul detaching from her body?
Her heart?
“I suggest we get moving,” Stark said as he knelt beside her and pricked her arm with something.
She couldn’t move.
Didn’t care.
Escape meant nothing.
What was the point of living without the two most important people in her life?
Dead.
Because I couldn’t decide.
Because I exist.
No longer.
Oblivion swallowed her, relieving her of this nightmare.
Blessed relief, lifting her to a dreamlike state where she searched for Jayson, for surely he would meet her here.
Except all she saw was darkness.
A future without friends or love.
A future in a cage.
Home, her subconscious supplied. Where we belong.
She blinked inwardly at that thought.
That’s not…
A vision of white lab coats, cameras, and endless tests flashed behind her eyes.
Memories or nightmares?
Home.
We’re going home.
22
Welcome Back
Subject’s vitals are steady. Will commence resuscitation at 0800 hours. Need to create new log for Subject 4-7.1.
—Entry Log 124.11.4-7
Lizzie awoke in a sea of white.
Walls, blankets, furniture, and curtains, all pristine. Even her pants and tank top were colorless.
A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her as she sat up in the fluffy bed.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Where am I?
A bandage on her arm suggested someone had recently taken blood from her. She removed it and examined the healing mark, indicating the invasive procedure was in fact recent.
She shifted to stand and winced at the weakness in her limbs. How long have I been asleep?
That strange feeling of having been here before swept over her again as she moved toward the glass. Evergreens and a clear blue sky stretched out for miles. She’d seen this before, but the memory evaded her.
A gentle knock preceded the opening of the room’s only door.
Familiarity hit her in an instant, but she couldn’t recall the bald man’s name. His ancient green eyes spoke to her on a level she didn’t understand, and as his lips curled, a feeling of foreboding twisted her insides.
I don’t like him.
She didn’t know why, but the feeling of hatred toward him superseded reason.
“Don’t worry, little one. Your memories will be returned to you eventually.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he sauntered toward her. “How do you feel?”
“Confused,” she admitted. “Where am I?”
“In my home,” he replied. “For now, anyway. Jonathan would prefer you in the lab, but I think this will prove a less stressful environment for you. You can return to him once you’ve given me what I need.”
She swallowed. “Which is what?”
He smiled. “Your progeny.”
My what? How?
Lizzie blinked as images surfaced behind her eyes.
New York City. Campus. Stas. Tom.
Jayson.
It seemed lost behind a cloud, the information she needed on the cusp of her mind…
“Yes, Jonathan felt inclined to introduce chemicals to your system to keep you more compliant. As I do not want anything to jeopardize the life growing inside you, I’ve ceased the treatment. You are mine, after all.”
“I—I don’t understand.”
“No, I imagine you wouldn’t.” He gave her a dismissive smile. “Reimagining your childhood was the only way to fulfill the final test, and I must say, it far surpassed my expectations. When they suggested giving you unloving parental figures, I questioned it, but the outcome worked just as they anticipated. You craved love and affection, thereby allowing others to easily manipulate your emotions. Fascinating, really. I can’t wait to explore the depths of that programming myself.”
She shook her head, not following. Reimagining my childhood?
“Now, your preference for dancing? That was my idea, as I’ve always enjoyed the ballet. And the beauty pageants were also my suggestion. Granting you second place after almost every competition instilled that drive to constantly do better while also ingraining a sense of elegance in you. I mean, the last woman I want is an insolent one.”
He clasped his hands together. “Well, in any case, I’m pleased. I never expected an Elder to take the bait, but I’m thrilled that he did. It’s the perfect final test before we begin.”
Why the emotional profile?
And begin what?
A knock at the door caused him to turn with an arched brow at the female visitor. “Apologies, Sire, but Skye is having an episode.”
“I see. Thank you, Jezebel. I will be right there.”
“Of course, Sire.”
Osiris, her brain finally supplied. That was this being’s name.
How do I know that?
“We’ll continue our discussion soon,” he murmured. “For now, eat the food that is provided and behave, and I’ll allow you to remain unrestrained in your room. I may even bring you some books. Assuming you still enjoy them?”
She frowned. Fortunately, he wasn’t looking for a response. He merely smiled as if amused. “It’s lovely to have you here again, especially now that your purpose has arisen. Enjoy your afternoon.”
With those strange words, he left, the door latching firmly behind him.
Lizzie blinked several times, confused.
More images trickled through her thoughts, these more erotic in nature.
Jayson kissing her. She touched her lips with the memory as her heart sped up. Her breasts tingled as she recalled his mouth teasing her nipples before venturing lower…
She moaned at the thoughts assaulting her, the very real memories of him worshiping her body and her returning the favor in kind.
Two glorious weeks spent learning each other intimately and falling in love. Her heart ached for him and fractured on a cry as the final image broke her mind.
His lifeless eyes.
“No!” she screamed as she collapsed onto the pristine floor. “NO!”
Jonathan killed him.
And Stas.
“Oh God…”
She dry-heaved, but her empty stomach denied the follow-through, leaving her light-headed.
Lizzie curled into a ball as the pain lashed at her nerve endings. Tears unlike any she’d ever shed poured from her eyes, dehydrating her soul.
“Jayson,” she whimpered, craving him more than she ever had.
God, she thought Tom’s death ripped her apart. It was nothing compared to this loss.
She felt incomplete—like half of her died with Jayson. He had touched her in a way no one else ever had.
And I’m carrying his child?
Was that what Osiris implied?
That Jayson had impregnated her? And Osiris intended to keep the baby?
Her blood ran hot and cold.
Jayson said he couldn’t procreate, but Osiris implied she carried Jayson’s life inside her. Jonathan had said the same.
How was that even possible?
What am I?
Lizzie needed a plan, some sort of diversion that allowed her to access the outside.
Then she could lose herself in the trees. They stretched on for miles, but surely a road existed somewhere.
A chill skittered down her spine as someone knocked and opened the door without preamble. She expected it to be Osiris again and thought it was at first, until she saw the man’s mouth.
Oh God… It was sewn shut with razor wire.
His green eyes, so much like Osiris’s, met hers as he set a tray of food on the table in the corner. Beside it was a wooden chair.
“Th-thank you,” she mumbled.
He bowed his bald head and straightened to study her. Curiosity lit his expression, and she thought he might want to say something but couldn’t.
Those barbs resting against his lips looked painful. What could he have done to deserve that treatment?
“That’ll be all, Sethios,” Osiris said as he entered with a brunette in a lab coat.
The silent man bowed again before excusing himself quietly from the room while Lizzie frowned.
Wasn’t that the friend Ezekiel mentioned growing up with in Babylon? The one Osiris raised as a son? Why on earth would he sew his lips together?
“Lizzie, sit in that chair.” Osiris gestured to the wooden seat, and her legs moved of their own accord. She couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted to.
This is bizarre.
She sat.
“Eat your sandwich,” he added.
She picked up what she thought might be egg salad and took a bite. Again, against her own free will.
What the heck?
The hairs along her arms danced as the bread met her mouth again.
Compulsion.
Jayson mentioned Osiris’s ability on the plane, yet that wasn’t how she knew.
I’ve met this being before. The question was, when?
“This is Valerie.” He gestured to the petite woman beside him. “I’ve borrowed her from Jonathan’s research team and have requested her to oversee your progress.”
The female’s hazel eyes blinked once, the only confirmation that Osiris hadn’t so much requested as demanded.
Lizzie commiserated with the woman. This sandwich isn’t even that good, yet here I am devouring it.
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” he said, leaving with the sound of another latch of the door.
Valerie set her bag on the floor and wandered the room with her arms crossed while Lizzie finished forcing the food down her throat. She didn’t even like egg salad that much, but she couldn’t not eat it.
