Immortal Unchained

by Lynsay Sands

Sarita stumbled inside and glanced swiftly around the lab, relieved to see that the table was empty this time and there wasn't some poor tortured immortal on it cut in half or missing limbs. She was less happy to see Asherah sitting at the desk Dressler had used, writing something in a notebook. The woman glanced up with a start at their entrance.

  "I have a gift for Father, Asherah," the winged man announced, pulling the door closed. "Where is he?"

  "Sleeping," Asherah said, eyeing Sarita with an odd expression on her face.

  "Well, wake him up. He'll want to know we have the girl."

  Asherah shook her head and closed her book before standing. "He said not to wake him unless we had them both."

  "But--"

  "That's what he said, Caelestis," Asherah said firmly, coming around the desk.

  "Don't call me that--you know I hate that name," the man holding Sarita snapped.

  "Fine. That's what he said, Cael," she said impatiently and then arched an eyebrow. "Better?"

  "Yeah, but--"

  "No, buts," Asherah interrupted irritably. "You know how miserable he gets when he's woken up from sleep. We don't wake him up until the vampire's caught too."

  Cael released a resigned breath. "Fine. What do we do with her, then?"

  "Lock her in the cells until the vampire is found," Asherah said with a shrug, retrieving a large set of keys from her pocket.

  "I thought the cells were full?" Cael commented and Sarita turned slightly, getting her first good look at him in the light. He was almost a dead ringer for Thorne. He had the same high cheekbones, the same full lips, the same pale gold eyes and the same coloring to his wings. He was also just as gorgeous as the other man. But he was on the wrong side.

  "They are full. I'll have to put her in with Colton," Asherah said absently as she led them toward the refrigerator, sorting through the keys on her chain.

  "Is he still alive?" Cael asked seeming surprised.

  "Just," Asherah said and paused next to the refrigerator to unlock . . . a door, Sarita saw when Cael urged her closer. She hadn't noticed it the last time she was here because it was hidden by the protruding refrigerator. She should have expected it existed, though. This lab didn't take up a fifth of the building. There had to be a door to whatever lay behind this room, which, as it turned out, were cells from what these two had said.

  Sarita glanced around curiously the moment Cael marched her through the door. All there was to see was a hallway with white walls and white tile on the floor like the lab they'd just left. There were also five white doors off it. Two on either side and one at the end. Asherah led them to the end door, unlocked it and stepped in, flicking on a light switch next to the door as she went.

  Sarita got halfway through this door and then froze. The white walls and white tile floor were gone, replaced by metal walls and a bare concrete floor. There were also six barred cells here, three on either side, all of them occupied. A wide aisle ran down the length between them, leading to a door at the far end of the room. Since the lab, the hallway, and these cells probably only took up half the length of the building, Sarita suspected the far door led to more cells and more prisoners.

  She slid her gaze over the occupants of the first two cells. There were two women in the one on the left. They stood as still as statues, faces expressionless as they watched them enter. A lone man was in the cell on the right. He was huge. Even sitting slumped against the wall, Sarita suspected he was almost as tall as her. Standing, she doubted she'd reach halfway up his upper arm. He was also bald and extremely pale, almost blue. His eyes were closed, his head down, his chin resting on his chest. She wasn't sure he was breathing.

  "Move." Cael shoved her forward with his hold on her arm and Sarita reluctantly followed Asherah down the aisle past the first two cells, aware that the women tracked them with narrowed eyes.

  "You should have moved Colton to the front cell instead of leaving him surrounded by these monsters," Cael said tightly as Asherah stopped at the second cell on the right and began searching through her keys again. "At least then he would only have had them on one side of him."

  Asherah shrugged. "They can't reach him in the center of the cell and he's not moving until we carry him out."

  "What about her?" Cael asked, thumbing toward Sarita with his free hand. "They might bite her."

  Asherah selected a key and stuck it in the cell door. As she turned it, she glanced at Sarita and her mouth twisted. "Judging by the footage from the island, she seems to like vampires. She'll be fine."

  Sarita felt heat rush into her face at the woman's words as she realized Asherah had obviously watched the camera footage of her and Domitian. They'd been careful to not do anything outside the cocooned bed once Domitian had created the little shelter, but before that there had been the incident in the bathroom that first day. There was also their interlude by the pool. It was possible that a camera had been placed in the trees by the waterfall and caught that action. Though she'd been covered by the towel when Domitian had given her pleasure, it wouldn't have been hard to tell what was happening. And there had been no towel covering Domitian's erection afterward, just her mouth.

  Her soul shriveled at the thought of this bitch witnessing those intimate moments between her and Domitian, but as Asherah opened the cell door, Sarita raised her chin and asked sharply, "Did you enjoy the show? Or were you jealous?"

  Growling, Asherah caught her by the arm, nails digging deep into Sarita's forearm as she dragged her from Cael and shoved her through the open door. Sarita stumbled several steps, nearly stepping on a figure on the floor before catching herself. Freezing, she stared down at the boy she'd nearly trampled. He was young, perhaps six, and he was lying on the cold concrete with only a blanket wrapped around his bulky shape, leaving just his thin face visible.

  "Let's go," Asherah snapped as the door clanged shut.

  "No. We can't leave her here. If they drain her dry, Dressler will be pissed," Cael said and Sarita glanced over to see him eyeing the inhabitants of the other cages warily.

  "Fine," Asherah snarled and pulled a gun from her pocket.

  Sarita took an instinctive step back, pausing when she stepped on something. As she glanced down to see that she'd stepped on the boy's blanket, not any part of him, she heard two soft pffts of sound, and glanced back to the woman. She then followed the gun point to the cell next to the one she was in as the two men inside suddenly dropped like puppets whose strings had been cut. There were darts sticking out of each of them now, she saw.

  "Happy?" Asherah asked Cael tersely.

  "What about him?" Cael asked, nodding his chin toward the man slumped against the wall in the first cell on the other side of Sarita.

  "He's bloodless. Can't do a thing. Now let's get out of here," she said, heading back up the aisle toward the door they'd entered through. "These guys give me the willies."

  Cael hesitated, but then turned and followed Asherah out.

  By Domitian's guess he was little more than a couple of minutes away from the cottage when something large swooped out of a tree on the side of the path and landed on the trail in front of him. It brought him up short, and he started to crouch into a fighting stance, and then recognized the man in front of him.

  "Thorne," he said with surprise, straightening. "What are you--?"

  "Did you call your people?" he interrupted, trying to glance around Domitian as if expecting there to be someone behind him.

  "No. They moved the phone," Domitian admitted, his voice heavy with disappointment at having failed.

  "Did you search for where they moved it to?" Thorne asked with a frown.

  "Of course, I searched," Domitian said impatiently. "And then I read the mind of one of the men guarding the front door and learned that Dressler had it moved to the labs the minute he realized we were on the island."

  "How did he know you were on the island?" Thorne asked with concern. "I thought I took care of the cameras . . . unless the bastard has some I don't know abo
ut."

  Domitian shook his head. "I do not think you need worry about that. Unfortunately, the man with gills washed up on the shore today. They deduced that his broken neck meant he didn't die of natural causes," Domitian said dryly, and then frowned as he noted that Thorne was trying to look around him again. Shaking his head, he continued, "They put one and one together and made two. Two being we had made it here."

  Thorne cursed violently.

  "Yeah. That means a change of plans. I'm going to take Sarita and swim for the mainland or another island, whichever we reach first. I need to get her away from here. From there I'll get the information to my uncle at the villa."

  "Your uncle?" Thorne growled. "I thought some special police force was after El Doctor. What is your uncle doing here?"

  "Uncle Lucian heads up the special force," Domitian said soothingly. "He's rented a couple of villas in Caracas and taken a couple more on Isla Margarita in the Rancho de Chano area for himself and the rest of the hunters while here."

  Thorne grunted and then tried to look past him again.

  Growing tired of the game, Domitian turned sideways on the edge of the path so he had a clear view. "What the hell are you looking for?"

  Thorne stared up the dark, empty path and then asked worriedly, "Where is Sarita?"

  "What?" Domitian asked with alarm. "She's supposed to be at the cottage. You were supposed to be keeping her th--"

  "She's not there," he interrupted on a growl.

  "What do you mean she's not there?" Domitian snapped. "You were supposed to be watching her. You--"

  "I was watching her. I sat in the living room almost the entire time you were gone."

  "Almost?" he asked grimly. "Almost the entire time?"

  Thorne winced. "I only stepped out for a minute. Maria called me, I thought perhaps there was a problem, but she just wanted to tell me that the guard on the beach had been doubled. She feared El Doctor suspected something. The women were upset. I took just a moment or two to calm them and then went back inside to continue waiting. I thought Sarita was still in bed until MacNeil and a bunch of his security men showed up."

  "What?" Domitian hissed, glancing down the path toward the cottage.

  Thorne nodded. "They barged in, scaring the hell out of mother and Maria and started searching the place. I ran upstairs to try to warn Sarita, but when I opened the guest bedroom door, she was gone."

  "Wh--?"

  "Just shut up and listen," Thorne snapped. "MacNeil was right behind me and saw the room was empty. He started cussing and swearing and then someone called him on his radio. I didn't hear what was said, MacNeil pushed me out of the room and told his men to take me downstairs to the living room with the women while he took the message and then slammed the door. But he came downstairs a few moments later and said to tell you that they have Sarita and if you want her to live, you are to give yourself up by midnight."

  "What?" Domitian gasped with dismay. He then shook his head. "Well, then why the hell did you keep looking behind me? Why did you think she was with me?"

  "I was sure he was bluffing," Thorne said on a sigh and then rallied and said, "And I still half think he is. Aside from being a trained police officer, Sarita has years of martial arts training under her belt. Her father made her learn to defend herself after her mother's murder. He was afraid to lose her like he did her mother."

  "I know," Domitian said quietly. Aside from it being in his reports, she had mentioned the martial arts training herself.

  "And she's smart," Thorne added firmly. "I just cannot see her getting caught on her own. It must be a bluff. She is probably on her way back here right now. You just missed each other on the path. Where are you going?" Thorne finished when Domitian turned abruptly to head back the way he'd come.

  Domitian did not pause or slow down, he simply said, "To turn myself in."

  "Wait." Thorne hurried after him. "You have a little over four hours before you have to do that."

  Domitian paused and thought briefly, and then sighed and nodded. "Si. I will look for her first. If I find her I will free her, but if not, I will turn myself in at midnight."

  "What about getting word to your uncle?" Thorne asked with dismay.

  "I have no way to call him and have no idea how long it would take me to swim to Isla Margarita. I will not risk trying to swim there and return with a team in time to save Sarita. I must be here at midnight to turn myself in. We are on our own."

  Fifteen

  "Your name is Sarita."

  Sarita turned from watching Asherah and Cael leave and glanced warily at the men in the cell across from the one she was in. She was quite sure the man who had spoken was one of those three, but had no idea which one. They all looked very alike. All of them wore identical black leather outfits as if they belonged to a biker gang. They also all had dark hair and similar facial features. They were obviously related, but the two on the ends were a little smaller than the man in the middle. Not a lot, they were all big men, but the two on the ends just had very muscular shoulders, while the one in the middle had incredibly muscular shoulders. Sarita dubbed them Biker #1, Biker #2, and Biker #3 in her mind.

  "Sarita Reyes," the man in the middle, Biker #2, said now.

  "You are Domitian's life mate," the man on the left, Biker #1, said with interest.

  "You sacrificed yourself for him," the one on the right, Biker #3, added.

  "You--"

  "Okay, let's just slow our ponies here, boys," she said finally, interrupting Biker #2. Propping her hands on her hips and using her best constable scowl, she said, "Yes, my name is Sarita Reyes. Yes, Domitian thinks I'm his life mate. But no I didn't sacrifice myself for him." Raising her eyebrows she suggested, "Now how about you guys mind your own business and stay the hell out of my head? Hmm?"

  "Domitian does not think you are his life mate," Biker #2 said solemnly. "He knows it . . . and so do you."

  Sarita scowled at the suggestion, but before she could comment, Biker #3 said, "And you did sacrifice yourself. Knowing he could not see them, you tackled the men coming up along the side of the house . . . sacrificing yourself so that he could escape."

  "I'll take that as a 'no, we won't mind our own business and stay out of your head, Sarita,' shall I?" she asked dryly, and then snapped, "And I did not sacrifice myself." Scowling, she added, "I mean, it wasn't supposed to be a sacrifice. I was supposed to kick their butts and join Domitian to head back to the cottage. And I did kick their butts. I just didn't expect Bigbird to fly in and carry me off like an eagle snatching up a bunny," she finished irritably, because, really, that hadn't been fair at all.

  "You're more a porcupine than a bunny, lass," one of the two men in the cell on the right of the one holding the bikers commented with a thick Scottish accent. Sarita scowled at the blond man for his trouble.

  "Quinn," Biker #2 growled in reprimand.

  "What?" the Scot asked innocently. "Ye have to admit she is, Victor."

  Sarita stiffened at the name Quinn used to address Biker #2. She was pretty sure the uncle Domitian had mentioned being taken was named Victor. Could this be him?

  "Bunnies are soft and fluffy," Quinn continued. "This woman's thoughts are sharp and pointy." Turning to Sarita, then, the Scot smiled charmingly and added, "It's no' an insult. I like sharp and pointy. A lot."

  "Dial it down, Quinn," Victor suggested dryly. "Try to romance this woman like you do every other mortal female and Domitian will kill you. She is his."

  "I am not!" Sarita protested at once, resenting the way they made her sound like a possession.

  "Really?" Quinn asked, waggling his eyebrows.

  "Oh, stuff it, Romeo. I'm not interested," she growled, and then glanced down at the boy at her feet when he moaned in pain.

  Frowning, Sarita dropped to her haunches to get a better look at his face. While Asherah had turned on bright lights when they'd entered, she'd also turned them off on leaving. The only illumination in the room now came from weak bare bu
lbs overhead that cast a dim glow. It was enough to see by, though, and she peered at the child's pale face with concern and then felt his cool forehead.

  "He doesn't have a fever," she mumbled to herself as she looked him over. The boy was panting slightly, and there was a bluish tint to his lips and ears. Intending to check his fingernails to see if his nail beds were blue too, she tugged his blanket away and then froze.

  "Madre de Dios," she breathed, staring at what she'd revealed. The boy had the head, arms, and chest of a little boy, but from the waist down he was all pony, right up to the tail.

  Another one of Dressler's experiments, she thought grimly, brushing the tips of her fingers lightly over one of his legs to feel the coarse horse hair. The boy moaned and shifted restlessly, and Sarita glanced back to his face and frowned. He didn't look well at all.

  Sighing, she covered him again, and then brushed the human hair back from his face and peered at him sadly as she asked, "What's the matter with him?"

  "He is dying," Victor said solemnly.

  "What from?" Sarita asked, glancing around at the man and noting the compassion on his face as he looked at the boy.

  "I cannot be sure, but judging by the rapid heartbeat, his shortness of breath, and the blue of his lips and ears, I would guess that he is not taking in enough oxygen to support his body so it is failing."

  Sarita glanced back to the boy and thought that was a pretty good assessment of the situation. At least it did match the symptoms. "Do you think it's pneumonia or something? Shouldn't Dressler be giving him antibiotics or other meds?"

  "I suspect if that were the case he would," Victor said solemnly. "Since he is not, I would guess the problem has more to do with the boy's physiology than illness."

  "His physiology?" she asked, with a frown, lifting the blanket again, a horse's body to the neck where a human upper body began. A whole human torso, head, and arms rather than just a horse head.

  "It could be anything," Victor said sounding weary. "Perhaps he was born with only human lungs. They would not be able to supply enough oxygen for the body he has. Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that he has a human nose and sinuses. Horses have much bigger nostrils and their sinuses run the length of their head. Human sinuses may not be large enough to accommodate his body's needs." He shrugged. "I do not know."