Vic walked up beside her and tapped her arm lightly. “Here.”
He held a bottle of bug spray out to her. His sandy-blond hair flopped over into his green eyes and his lips twitched as if he was trying not to laugh at her. “You’re going to be miserable later.”
“Thank you. You’re always so prepared. I should have had you teach me to pack a backpack for hiking down here. You seem to have managed to fit everything needed in yours.” She returned his slightly flirtatious look with one of her own, before glancing at his pack that was now leaning against his leg. Her time with Vic at the university had taught her he was a flirt by nature and harmless—though she strongly suspected he was hiding an inner badass. She sprayed herself and as she went to return the bottle to him, she found Vic watching her with a curious look on his handsome face.
“I so have bug guts smeared on my forehead right now, don’t I?” she asked.
Vic simply stared at her. “No. You’re perfect.”
“Uh, thanks,” she said, placing the bottle in his hand. The spray was supposed to have a fresh, clean scent. She begged to differ with the manufacturers.
Vic shook his head and pressed the bottle against her, his hand over hers. “Nah, hang onto it. I’ll get it back from you later tonight.” He grinned. “Besides, I kind of think the bugs only have a taste for you.”
“It’s because I’m so sweet,” she said, before snorting at her own lameness.
Vic let out a soft laugh as he stared around. “Kim?”
“Yes?” The strongest feeling of danger rushed over her, nearly taking her to her knees. While she was masking what she was and suppressing her inborn gifts as much as she could, they were present enough to warn her that something bad was about to happen.
Vic touched her arm and then squeezed, moving his body in front of hers in a protective manner. “Something is wrong, Kim.”
She sensed it too. Vic pulled her close to him and turned in a slow circle before letting her go and motioning for her to stay put. She wasn’t keen on being left alone but nodded all the same. She glanced around, trying to figure out what had caused her inner alarms to go off.
The telltale sounds of the rain forest came to a grinding halt. It was a noisy place with all the birds, insects, and animals. To have sudden silence wasn’t natural. The tension in the air carried with it the threat of danger. At first, she assumed a larger predator was near them, stalking them. It wouldn’t have been the first time on their expedition that they had found themselves near a large animal. While there were no lions or polar bears, there were other large predators.
There was a loud thud followed by a groan from somewhere behind her. She spun around and found Professor Krauss watching an area off to their right. It took a moment for Kim to register what she was seeing, but when she came to her senses, a scream tore free from her. Vic was there, facedown on the ground, a dart sticking out of his upper left shoulder.
“Ohmygod, Professor Krauss, Vic is hurt!” Looking to her left, she gasped, her entire body went rigid as she found Brad lying on the ground, in the direction of a stream not far from them. He too was unconscious. “So is Brad!”
Kim turned and yet another from the expedition had fallen. Confused, she snapped her gaze to the professor. For a split second, it appeared as if Krauss was smiling. Something sharp pinched her neck and she swatted at it, assuming it was another damn bug.
Coming away with a tiny dart, Kim shook her head as her body began to feel heavy. Her vision blurred and she staggered. She reached out for the professor, screaming once more as blackness swallowed her whole.
Chapter Two
Wilson Rousseau lifted his head, and pain radiated throughout his body. His vision blurred, and for a moment he could have sworn he heard the cry of a female. One who needed help—one who needed him.
A distant, yet constant, low-grade sound emitted from something his captors liked to refer to as the “scrambler.” Wilson knew enough about the guy running the show, Gisbert Krauss—an insane scientist with plans to create a master race of supernaturals—to know the device was more than effective. His guess was, it was built to prevent other supernaturals from sensing the presence of one another. If his hunch was right, it was some sort of modified L.R.A.D.—long-range acoustical device.
In short, it blocked his ability to mentally or electronically call out to the Immortal Ops (I-Ops), and the rest of the I-Ops’ ability to call in. If his team was even still looking for him, which he was fast beginning to doubt. But if they were, static or silence would be all that greeted them.
Again, Wilson sensed the call of a woman in need of him, even when he shouldn’t have been able to receive any form of mental links with the scrambler in place. Every sore, battered, and bruised ounce of him came alive with the need to go to the woman calling for help and to protect her. He struggled against the silver-coated chains digging into his wrists and ankles. He was a shifter male, and shifters had a serious allergy to silver.
While a recent mishap—or as he preferred to refer to it, a kiss from his friend’s wife—had given him a slight resistance to silver, it wasn’t enough to stop the effects of prolonged exposure. Melanie, the woman who had kissed him, had shared her Fae blood with him willingly. That meant she’d passed on a few Fae traits. Without what she’d done for him, the silver-coated chains would have cut through his limbs already. The chains still would if he dared to continue to push. Understanding that fact, Wilson still tugged, needing to get to the woman he sensed was in need of him.
He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted. The inborn need to help the female was that great.
As quickly as the call for help from the mysterious woman had come, it faded away. It was then Wilson realized he was more than likely hallucinating as a result of the injections he’d been given and the tests they’d done on him to date. Whatever his captors had injected him with dulled his senses, making his vision blur and his body weak.
At random times, he could feel the Fae power Melanie had passed on to him trying to surface, but the magik either wasn’t sure what to do or knew he was clueless, so it didn’t bother lending a hand. It probably figured he’d kill himself attempting to wield it. At this rate, he’d rather be dead than living like he was, so he was open to the idea.
Groaning, he moved his head around, trying to alleviate the kinks from his upper shoulders and neck. It didn’t work. Beyond that, his throat was dry and his body was weak. The food wasn’t fit for human consumption. Maggots infested the majority of it, and the rest was in a state of decomposition. After a certain point, Wilson had forced some of the food down only to find it coming back up quickly. Still, any nourishment he could get was needed if he planned on regaining his strength and escaping.
And he fully intended to escape.
In shifted form, Wilson wasn’t too particular about what he ate or drank—that being said, his rat form wouldn’t even eat the food his captors continued to try to pawn off on him. Considering his rat form tended to eat just about anything, that was saying a lot as to how dire his situation was.
He tipped his head back, giving in to the need to sleep. He was almost completely out when a scent like he’d never smelled before came to him, causing his cock to harden and his body to ignite with need. He looked up to find Krauss’s men dragging an unconscious woman past his cell.
The fierce need to protect her overtook him. Wilson surged forth, yanking with all his might against his restraints, reaching for the woman. He knew then it had been her call for help that he’d tried to answer. She hadn’t been a figment of his imagination or the result of drugs. She was real and she needed him.
“Get away from her!” Wilson roared, his body protesting his every movement, pain lancing through his extremities.
The men stalled and stared at him before sharing a curious look.
“He’ll want to hear about this,” one said.
The other nodded. “Definitely.”
They continued down the ha
ll, dragging the unconscious woman behind them. Wilson thrashed against his restraints, trying to get free, until the pain was so unbearable that he passed out cold.
Chapter Three
“Other than being hot,” a deep voice said, pulling Kim from her sleep, “this one is useless. The boss swears she’s got supernatural blood in her, but she didn’t put up any fight or show signs of being anything but a sexy piece of ass.”
Kim blinked. Her head felt heavy and her vision was somewhat fuzzy. She tried to sit up, but found she couldn’t. Panic hit as she understood she was strapped down to a bed of sorts. Tugging, she tried in vain to break free from her restraints. The urge to cry out for help was great, but she knew better. If help was close, she wouldn’t have been strapped to a bed, and letting whoever was talking know she was awake seemed less than wise.
Glancing around, she spotted bars and her stomach dropped. She was in a cell. Still managing to maintain her composure, Kim looked in the direction the voice had come from but couldn’t see anyone there.
“I agree,” another male voice said. “But the boss was right. She is a prize for breeding.”
Who were they talking about? Prize for breeding? This wasn’t happening. She had to be dreaming. Had she hit her head? Was she lying on the rain forest floor right this very minute? She drew in a sharp breath.
“Shh.”
Kim’s blood ran cold at the sound of the deep voice. She lay perfectly still, praying whoever was close to her wouldn’t realize she was awake.
“I’m not with them. And I’d never hurt you,” the man whispered. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
Something deep within Kim told her to trust the man, whoever he was. Swallowing hard, she turned to face his direction and was shocked to see how close a pair of chocolate-brown eyes were. She’d expected the man to be in an adjacent cell. He wasn’t. He was next to her, shackled to the wall. His squared jaw was covered with a beard. Red, brown, and even blond showed in it. His hair hung just past his ears and was brown with hints of golden blond running through it. The man, even in his obvious state of disarray, was gorgeous.
The tan t-shirt he wore was ripped and bloody, as were his pants. It was easy to see he’d been beaten a multitude of times. The rather angry-looking gash on his upper right cheek made her chest tight. Kim bit her lower lip, no longer worried about herself, but rather concerned greatly for the man locked in the cell with her. “You’re hurt.”
A soft nervous chuckle came from him. “I’m fine. Though I’ve been sitting here worried sick about you. I wasn’t sure you’d ever wake up.” He lifted his bound hands. “And I couldn’t get to you. I’m so sorry.” His forehead creased. “Do you know where you are?”
“No.” She sighed, being sure to keep her voice barely above a whisper. The horrible stench of the cell made her stomach tight, and the weight of the ordeal began to press in on her. Kim took a soothing breath, willing herself not to panic. She thought back to the events leading up to this point. “The last thing I remember was talking to Vic about the bugs down here and then Professor Krauss calling my name.” She looked around the dark, dank cell. “Then I woke up here. Why am I strapped down?”
The man let out a low growl, sounding very much like an animal. His eyes widened with revulsion. “You were with Krauss on purpose?”
“Yes. Why? Is he hurt?” Thoughts of Professor Krauss being dead filled her. Alarm for the rest of the group members washed over her. She’d seen Vic and Brad both lying on the ground, neither moving. “Oh gods, all the others. Were they hurt too?”
“Others?”
She blinked back tears, refusing to give in to them so soon. “I came on the trip with several other grad students.” She thumped her head against the cot, unable to understand how it was she came to be strapped to it to begin with. “Krauss was excited about bringing us down to study the native plants. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was just—”
“Study plants?” the man asked, jerking on his chains. “You mean you’re not in league with Krauss and his experiments on humans?”
Shocked, Kim stared out from wide eyes. “Experiments on humans? What are you talking about?” She glanced at the straps binding her down. Tears tried again to surface but she fought them back. “W-what did they do to me?”
“What’s your name?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject. She knew enough to let him.
“Kimberly, erm, Kim.”
“Well, Kim, I’m Wilson Rousseau, your new roommate.” He glanced around the cell before resting his head against the stone wall. Pieces of his shaggy hair fell into his eyes, and he blew them out. “It’s not the Ritz, that’s for sure. I’d lie and say you get used to it, but I don’t think you’d fall for that. Plus the room service here sucks major ass.”
The nervous energy building in Kim left her laughing softly at Wilson’s attempt at humor. “No. I wouldn’t fall for that. Have you tried talking to the manager? Maybe a complaint or two would get him to act on it.”
Wilson’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “I did try discussing the matter with him.” He pulled on the chains and winked. “This was his answer to it. Great customer service, huh? I’m planning to leave a scathing review online later.”
Another nervous chuckle escaped her. She lifted her head as much as she could while strapped and stared around. The bars appeared to be iron and they looked thick. Rusted spots could be seen in two of the corners, and she wondered how strong those points were. She tried to free her natural-born gifts, but nothing happened. Panic assailed her, and she realized that whatever she’d been given had somehow managed to block her ability to wield magik, at least for now.
Humidity coated the already stale air, practically choking her as she took a deep breath in. Kim swallowed hard, refusing to break down. She couldn’t. Not yet. Yes, this was beyond scary. Hell, it was terrifying, but admitting defeat so soon wasn’t an option. She was stronger than that.
Kim glanced at Wilson. The very sight of him seemed to ease her nerves. “How long have we been here?”
He squirmed, looking as if he were trying to scratch an itch on his upper left shoulder blade. “Ah, that’s a good question. I think I’ve been here about two and a half months, maybe three, but I’m not sure. Could be longer or not. Everything has pretty much run together for me. They had me pretty doped up for a while so your guess is as good as mine. I do know that you’ve been here for a little over two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. There was no way she’d been there for two weeks.
“Kim, they went out of their way to keep you sedated and lying flat. I don’t know why for sure, but I’ve got my suspicions.” He rubbed his temple, the shackle on his wrist keeping him from being too productive though. The action was more a light swipe than anything. “They wheel you out of here several times a day, talking about needing to monitor your progress.”
“My progress?” She tried to sit up and failed. As she stared down at herself, Kim realized that, unlike Wilson, she wasn’t dressed in street clothes. She had on a hospital gown. “What the…? Where are my clothes? Ohmygod, did they…?” Unable to bring herself to ask if they’d raped her, Kim locked gazes with Wilson. “Wil?”
Sorrow filled his chocolate brown eyes. “I honestly don’t know. These people are crazy. They believe they can genetically alter anything. I don’t think they did, uhh, but they didn’t stop pumping me full of drugs until after you’d been here for a couple of days. I’m going to kill every last one of them for daring to harm you.”
The man’s words floated back to her. “Prize for breeding… Ohmygod, Wil.” The tears she’d so desperately tried to hold in let loose.
“Look who is up, Doc,” a deep voice said from the other direction. “Aww, what’s a matter, sweetheart? Don’t like the company we gave you?”
She blinked back her tears and glared at the brute who stood on the outside of the cell. His shaved head and thick, blond goatee added to his alread
y sinister look. His beady blue eyes landed on her as his lip curled. “Mmm, you are even sexier than I thought. You’ve got the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. Must be from the faerie in your blood. I’m betting that’s where you get that tight fucking body from too.” The man blatantly adjusted his cock through his pants. “I was under the impression that all Fae were blonde with blue eyes. How did you manage to get black hair and green eyes, cupcake?”
“Fae?” she echoed, shocked to hear the word mentioned so casually when it had been instilled in her since birth never to repeat it. Humans were not to know of the Fae. The rules laid out to her had been simple. “What are you talking about? Faeries, like in the myths? They’re not real.”
He scratched his goatee. “Yet I’m starin’ at one right now. Not much of a myth. The hair, why isn’t it blonde? You dye it black? I could look elsewhere.” His gaze raked down her and centered between her legs.
She swallowed hard, not liking the hungry look in the man’s eyes. “My father has black hair. I get it from him,” she said, her voice low. “He has green eyes too.”
He lifted a chart and marked something in it. “Interesting. And your mother. Is she the Fae then? She got blonde hair and blue eyes?”
“I couldn’t tell you about my mother because she ran off shortly after she popped me out. Now that you got the abridged version of my so-called life, can we go now?”
“We?” the man asked, arching a brow. “You’re speaking for the rat now too?”
By rat, Kim guessed the man meant Wilson. She didn’t back down. “I’m sure he’s enjoyed his stay here as much as me, but I think he’d prefer leaving too. Not that your hospitality hasn’t been overwhelming.” It was hard to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She wanted to bounce the man’s head against the bars.
“Your mouth is going to get you into trouble, bitch.”
“Don’t call her a bitch, asshole,” Wilson bit out.
Strategic Vulnerability Page 2
