by Cheree Alsop
“Why does he need to be the Demon?” Drogan asked, his relief gone entirely.
“Because of the endorphins emitted during the process,” Dr. Kamala explained. “From what we’ve found in studying the areas where the Demon has been seen, he emits an adrenaline endorphin compound we have been unable to duplicate in our lab. We think it is the key to his ability to change into his Demon form. We need to harness it in order to recreate the Demon.”
Drogan merely glared at her, leaving Alex to ask, “And by harness it, you mean?”
“Bleed you dry while you’re in your morphed state,” she replied calmly as though she hadn’t just given Alex a death sentence.
“So what do you need me here for?” Drogan demanded, appearing completely unconcerned about Alex’s fate.
“You share some of the same genetic material through your father, the General.”
Drogan’s eyes narrowed. “Curse the day I hired you.”
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Kamala replied. “I do.” She waved a hand at her guards and they approached the door. “The point is, if Alex dies before he morphs, we’re hoping to be able to trigger the same response in you.”
Alex and Drogan exchanged a look. Dread filled Alex at the thought that Drogan might be able to morph into the same powerful creature he was learning how to control. He couldn’t imagine the devastation the Alpha would cause if that happened.
“Why do you need to harness the Demon’s abilities?” Alex asked quietly.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Just be a good Demon and change for us.”
“No.”
Everyone stared at Alex. He could feel Drogan’s wide gaze, but refused to look away from Dr. Kamala. “I’m not some animal to be experimented on.”
“Your situation proves otherwise,” Dr. Kamala stated, her voice cold.
Alex crossed the short area to the door. “Just wait until I’m on the other side of this glass,” he told her in a low growl.
“Shoot him,” she replied, her gaze locked on his.
A small sliding panel on the side of the cage was opened and a guard aimed his gun at Alex’s side. As much as he didn’t want to comply with the doctor’s wishes, getting shot again wouldn’t get him closer to escaping.
Reason warred with his wolf instincts to fight back. Alex held up a hand. “Fine,” he gave in. “I’ll go where you want me to, but I won’t morph.”
“You’ll do whatever I want you to,” Dr. Kamala said.
Alex stood back for her to open the door. Four guns were immediately trained on him. He had no doubt the guards wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he tried anything. He stepped through the thick glass door and paused when one of the guards indicated for him to do so.
Alex glanced back to see Drogan watching him with an unreadable expression. As soon as the door was locked, the woman walked away. At the guard’s motion, Alex was forced to follow her.
Chapter Two
Alex had survived brutality before. He willed his heart to be calm while they strapped him to a table.
“Just morph or whatever you call it and we won’t have to do this,” Dr. Kamala said as though they were discussing changing a tire instead of torture.
“I’m used to pain,” Alex replied.
A light of amusement gleamed in the doctor’s eyes. “Not like this.”
Steve cut Alex’s shirt off, then attached electrodes to his chest. Dr. Kamala studied Alex’s scars with an impassive expression.
“You should take better care of yourself,” she noted.
Alex rolled his eyes. “Like not getting myself strapped to a table and tortured?”
“That would be a good idea,” Dr. Kamala replied without a hint of humor.
Metal cuffs were fastened around Alex’s wrists and ankles. He forced his face to remain expressionless when a cart with a dial and several knobs was pushed over by two of the doctor’s assistants. One of them flipped a switch and the machine began to hum.
“I think I’m really going to enjoy this,” Dr. Kamala said.
Alex clenched his jaw, refusing to emit a sound when wires were attached to the electrodes.
“You might want a mouth guard,” the doctor told him. She lifted a white object. “It’ll keep you from breaking your teeth.” When Alex glared at her and refused to open his mouth, she shrugged. “Have it your way.” She tossed it back on the cart as though she couldn’t care less.
“Start with level two,” she told the assistant who stood ready near the machine.
The young woman nodded and turned the dial.
Electricity rushed from the electrodes and coursed through Alex’s entire body. His back arched and he gritted his teeth so hard in an effort to keep from crying out that he thought they would break. Every nerve, muscle fiber, and cell felt like it was ignited with electric fire until Alex felt like he was burning from the inside out. His hands clenched into fists and his arms shook with the strain. He had never felt such pain before.
Blue pulsed through his vision in time to the surges of electricity. Alex channeled all of his focus into keeping the Demon at bay. He wouldn’t let Dr. Kamala win.
“Kate, raise it to level three,” the doctor intoned in her high-pitched, monotone voice.
When the electricity increased, so did the pain. A hum sounded in Alex’s mind. The wolf instinct to survive fought to break free. It took everything he had to keep the Demon from forcing its way through. He wanted to phase to wolf form and tear them apart, but he knew if he let his body do anything, the Demon would take over and all would be lost.
“Level five.”
Alex’s head slammed back against the table. His body shook as he fought to keep from yelling out in pain. He shut his eyes and saw Siale’s face. She danced with the grace of a bird, floating across the floor of the prom at Greyton High School. Her dress accentuated her gray eyes, and they twinkled as she laughed at something he said. The pain became a cloud of brilliant red, unbearable, unbreakable, and all-consuming.
“That’s enough,” Alex heard Dr. Kamala say above the hum in his mind.
The electricity immediately shut off. Alex had no idea how long he had been strapped to the table. Small jolts raced through his body. He felt as though ever nerve was fried and overly sensitive; even the pressure of the table against his back hurt. The silence that filled his ears was too loud, and each breath made his heart skip a beat.
“Get him to the cage. We’ll continue tomorrow,” Dr. Kamala’s impassive voice intoned.
Alex couldn’t find the strength to move, let alone fight, when he was unstrapped and carried roughly by four men back to the glass cage. Their grips on his arms and legs felt like they burned through his skin, but he couldn’t force himself to break free. Alex was tossed inside the cell unceremoniously as though he was a piece of garbage. The door was shut and locked, then the guards walked away.
“Have a nice time?”
Adrenaline surged through Alex’s frayed nerves at the sound of the Extremist’s voice. He tipped his head to see Drogan sitting against the far wall, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands resting casually in his lap.
Instincts made Alex hide his pain and warned him to face his enemy at all times. He gritted his teeth and pushed up to a sitting position. A grunt escaped his lips when he leaned against the glass near the door. The cool surface sent sharp tingles through his worn body.
He felt Drogan’s gaze and looked up. The Alpha’s attention was on the scars that lined his bare torso.
“Werewolves generally heal better than that,” Drogan said, his voice expressionless.
Alex tipped his head against the glass. “Silver tends to interfere with the healing process.”
“I recall a few instances of you being injured with silver weapons.”
Alex glared at his half-brother. “You should try it sometime.”
The barest hint of a smile touched Drogan’s lips. His mismatched eyes narrowed. “Maybe you’ll be the one to serve up such a dish.”
<
br /> “I will,” Alex said with as much conviction as he could muster.
All he wanted to do was sleep, but with Drogan in the same cage, his instincts wouldn’t allow him to let down his guard. He closed his eyes, keeping the rest of his senses tuned onto the werewolf’s position.
“Why not just give them the Demon?”
Alex snorted without looking at Drogan. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I give in, they can drain the life out of me, get my blood with the adrenaline and whatever it is she called it, and they can make their own Demon or infuse someone with my blood or whatever they plan to do. I’d be dead and you can continue with your screwed up plans if you ever get out of here.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
When Alex refused to be baited by his brother’s impassive tone, Drogan sighed. Alex heard him shift against the glass, but the Alpha made no move to draw closer.
“If you become the Demon, you can break free. I’ve seen your strength.” There was a hint of longing in Drogan’s voice he couldn’t hide. “You can tear these walls down the way you destroyed my curs that attacked your precious Academy’s forest. With power like that, nobody could stop you.”
“Nothing is unstoppable,” Alex told him. He opened his eyes and looked at the Extremist. “They have enough guards and silver in that room to destroy an army of werewolves. The machines are already set up. Your doctor plans to inject me the moment I morph. I wouldn’t have a chance.”
“What about now?” Drogan asked. “Break the glass. Get us out of here.”
Alex closed his eyes and tried to find the blue-tinged strength that came from the Demon. He finally shook his head. “I can’t. The electricity took too much out of me. It won’t listen.”
Drogan’s eyebrows rose as though the information was new. “You mean you don’t control it?”
Alex gave himself a mental kick for giving Drogan any sort of information. He had to admit, “Not all the time. I’m working on it.”
“I’ll be you are,” Drogan said, crossing his hands behind his head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alex demanded.
Drogan shrugged. “That you’re the protector of your beloved Academy, the students, your sister,” he grimaced, “Meredith. You don’t care about much more than that.”
“They’re my pack.”
Drogan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Werewolves protect their packs and all that. It’s pretty lame, don’t you think?”
Alex couldn’t tell if the Alpha was baiting him or truly curious. He was careful to watch his words. “It’s family. That’s what this is all about, protecting my family and making the world a safer place for them to live.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Drogan asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. “‘A safer place for them to live.’ You already don’t expect to survive to see your new world where everyone lives in peace and happiness with pink fluffy clouds and rainbows.” His tone was dry when he said, “What kind of family instincts could you have if you’re ready to throw your life away at any given moment? How is that living for your pack?”
“I’m protecting them,” Alex said, his voice almost a growl. “If I have to die to do it, then so be it.”
“I’ve seen you fight, Alex. It’s like you want to die. I think you’re looking for an excuse to get away from your precious pack. You already did that in Greyton, didn’t you? You abandoned them. Perhaps I can help you by destroying them all. I don’t know how you showed up in time to stop my last attack on the Academy, but it was a close thing. You won’t be so lucky next time, Little Brother.”
Alex’s hands clenched into fists and he spoke through gritted teeth. “There won’t be a next time. You’re not getting out of here alive, Drogan. Brother or no brother, you’re a threat to my pack and I won’t let you hurt the people I care about.”
“People,” Drogan replied with a scoff. “You mean beasts.”
Alex ignored the barb. The Extremist’s comment made him think of something else. “What are the mutants?”
Drogan gave a little huff of dry laughter. “You mean the curs? They’re ironic, really, considering that they were made in our attempt to create something like your Demon. Now I’m in the same boat as the werewolves we experimented on.”
Anger filled Alex at Drogan’s words. “You kill people with them.”
Drogan nodded. “They’re happy to do anything I ask them. I was the first werewolf to command them, so I have their loyalty. I’m the only one Lucian will listen to.”
“Lucian?”
“The biggest cur, with the scar down his face. He’s a brute, that one. I gave him that scar pulling him off one of our other doctors, but the man had already been mauled to death.”
“You’re their Alpha.” The thought of the mutated, hulking beasts following Drogan as the leader of their pack sent a shudder down Alex’s spine. “They’re your pack.”
“I guess a pack is good for something,” Drogan said with a hint of amusement.
The conversation had exhausted Alex enough that against his will, he felt himself falling into a sort of restless slumber. Unable to fight it, Alex kept his back to the door so that he would feel it open if anyone tried to come in.
“Move one inch and I’ll show you what the Demon can do,” he growled.
The last thing he saw was Drogan raising his hands with an entertained expression. “I wouldn’t want that, even if I believed you could try. Save the Demon for Kamala. I want to see her expression when she realizes what she’s up against.”
***
“Come on, Alex. Stop fighting.”
Dr. Kamala’s high voice sounded like a buzzing mosquito above the hum that filled Alex’s mind. She had started him straight at five. The pain felt even more intense than he remembered. The Demon fought to get free. It wanted to tear the doctor and the entire room apart, to kill everyone who tortured and caged him. The Demon fought to bring revenge to his captors.
But she wanted that. Dr. Kamala wanted him to lose control and let the Demon free. She was ready for it. She would paralyze him with her silver and drain him dry. She would use his blood to make more beasts like Drogan’s curs, but with the Demon’s power. They would kill anyone she told them to. Alex’s loved ones would be in danger. Nobody would be safe if the Demon broke free.
“No.”
The single word spoken through Alex’s clenched teeth changed something. He heard the doctor arguing with him, telling him that the pain would stop, but he didn’t let the words sink in. Instead, he was concentrating inwardly to where the Demon resided in every beat of his ragged heart and each breath he took. It was a part of him as much as his wolf side.
He could feel it there, but it had changed. It was almost as if in refusing to give in to Dr. Kamala’s coaxing, he had taken control. It no longer fought to break free, but waited as though biding the time he called for it. He was stronger than the Demon. She would never get him to give in.
A smile crossed Alex’s face, chasing away the rictus of pain. He opened his eyes to see rage fill Dr. Kamala’s features as she realized what she was looking at.
“You’ll give me the Demon if it kills you!” she screamed. She reached over him and spun the dial.
“Ten will kill him!” Kate, her assistant, protested.
Dr. Kamala ignored her. The pain that surged through Alex’s body was so intense his back arched to the point that he felt it would snap in two. A yell ripped from Alex’s lips. His limbs pulled of their own accord against the bonds that held him to the table. His body shook. He couldn’t take the fire that raced beneath his skin as though cooking him from the inside out. He closed his eyes, hoping to see Siale’s face, but all he could see was red and white, pulsing and burning. His heart skipped a beat, then another. The pain was too intense. He couldn’t breathe.
Something snapped. There was an explosion of white in Alex’s mind, and everything went dark.
Chapter Three
Alex was dancin
g. He felt himself swaying from side to side as he and Siale made their way across the floor, but something was wrong, his feet didn’t touch the ground. Siale spoke to someone behind him. When he turned to see who it was, there was nobody there. Panic filled him. He looked back and Siale was gone. He stood alone on the dance floor. The lights went out one at a time until he stood in a single pool of light amid darkness so deep his werewolf vision couldn’t pierce it.
Something hit him hard, throwing him across the room. Pain exploded in his ribcage. He struggled to breathe. The last light faded. The pain flooded through him again. He couldn’t see his attacker. He couldn’t fight. He wanted to find Siale. She shouldn’t be alone in the darkness. She needed him.
The next burst of pain was so sharp Alex opened his eyes. Light flooded against his retinas. He saw Drogan’s form leaning over him. The werewolf had both hands gripped together in a club, ready to slam down on Alex’s chest again.
Alex put up his hands, catching Drogan’s arms before he could complete the attack. In his current state, he shouldn’t have been able to best the Alpha, but Drogan rocked back on his heels, watching Alex with an unreadable expression.
Every breath hurt. Alex had experienced enough broken ribs to know that he was dealing with several. He put a hand to his chest as he pushed up, unwilling to stay in such a defenseless position any longer. He moved back to sit against the glass with a considerable amount of effort.
“Pretty good for someone who just died.”
Alex studied Drogan. “What are you talking about?” He was amazed how painful it was to talk.
“You were dead,” Drogan said. “They threw you in here like a pile of junk. Your heart wasn’t beating.”
Alex tried to understand what the werewolf was saying. “So you hit me?”
Drogan’s eyes narrowed; whether in humor or disgust, Alex couldn’t decide.
“I guess you could call it that. I slammed your chest with my fists until your heart started again.”
