His touch was gentle, but searing. Every time his fingers grazed her flesh, she felt marked by his touch. Part of her hated him for the violation of her privacy, but his graceful, careful movements fascinated a small part of her. She caught herself taking only small breaths and forced a slow deep one, for fear she would pass out right there in the water from lack of oxygen.
As though he’d washed a woman’s long hair before, he knew exactly how to collect the sudsy ends and curl them on top of her head to work an even greater lather once all the hair was gathered on top.
Wet, sudsy ringlets escaped his efforts, framing Meg’s wide-eyed innocence beautifully. The small girl mesmerized Arkdone.
So much power and potential in such a small body, he thought as he gently massaged her scalp.
I could crush her skull right here in my hands. But the thought of hurting her made him crazy with anger. Now it was Arkdone’s turn to breathe deeply.
What is she doing to me? He thought suspiciously. After all these years alone, with my work as my mistress, what is this vixen doing to make me soften toward her? He cringed angrily.
Abruptly he stood, suds still dripping off his hands. “Finish quickly. You have five minutes before I come back and this time I won’t be influenced to be kind to you. Do you understand?” He turned and stormed out of the room that suddenly felt entirely too small to him.
Arkdone’s face was the picture of rage, but Meg had no idea what he was talking about. She hadn’t done anything to influence him.
Heck, she thought, I don’t even have enough energy to influence myself to brush my teeth, and that’s saying a lot. She grimaced as she leaned back into the water to rinse the shampoo Senator Arkdone had put there.
Deciding her exhaustion must be playing tricks on her mind because the alternate just didn’t make sense, she focused on finishing her bath. She didn’t forget to use conditioner because if she didn’t the tight curls would turn into one massive knot. The soap felt amazing on her grimy skin, but she hurried.
She felt a small burst of energy after the bath, where she made sure to drink as much as her stomach would hold directly from the faucet. The toweling off took seconds before she reached for the pile of clothing Arkdone left for her. It was a little scary how perfectly everything fit her…including the undergarments. Five minutes passed too quickly.
She opened the door to the bathroom slowly, looking around quickly for something, anything she could use as a weapon. It looked to be living room, she realized now. The traditional furniture dripped with money and sophistication. Each sofa had dark pigmented leather and plush cushions arranged beautifully on each. An expensive chocolate-colored cashmere throw was tossed casually across the matching chaise lounge. Books were piled beside it, across the end table and spilled onto the floor casually.
Nothing small and easy to grab, damn it, she thought.
“Good. Exactly five minutes. Please have a seat,” Arkdone said as he slowly walked a wheelchair to her side.
Meg’s pride screamed some profanities, but all she said was, “I can walk.”
“You seem much refreshed, but I insist.” Arkdone narrowed his eyes, challenging her to defy him.
Knowing full well she wasn’t refreshed enough to take on the monster smiling before her, she moved to sit in the chair. Her towel-dried hair pressed cold and wet against her back as she leaned into the chair. Arkdone moved with the speed of a viper to wrap a strap around her chest and secured it tightly behind the chair.
“What are you doing?” Meg screamed. “Let me go!”
“Of course not, my dear. I have plans and they revolve around you.”
With her arms and chest trapped, Meg moved to kick, and squirming to slip out of the chair, but Arkdone anticipated this. Still standing behind her, he cupped his right hand and slapped her ear hard. A deafening echo burst through her head and instantly her equilibrium was shattered. She clenched her eyes shut against the reverb in her skull and the rocking of the room.
She didn’t really feel the thick Velcro straps being positioned around her ankles and wrists. By the time Arkdone had completely secured Meg to the wheelchair, she was wondering if she would have to rethink the whole I’m not going to cry in front of this monster thing.
“There now,” Arkdone was saying. “All set for a quick ride to the lab. I’m sure your family will be glad to see you.”
Meg knew she needed to pay attention to where he was taking her, but her head was still reeling horribly from the powerful ear slap.
“Don’t think I can’t imagine your thoughts, Meg Winter. You’ll see exactly what you’re up against in just a moment.” Arkdone smiled to himself at his cruelty.
He pushed open thick, American Oak doors and rolled Meg into a room. The ringing in her ear was still pronounced, but she was ignoring the pain now that she could see her family. Straight ahead was Creed. The look on his face was relief at seeing Meg but fury at being bound by iron shackles on his ankles and wrists. The iron was incredibly thick, heavy and cemented directly into the cinder block wall behind him. He moved to stand, but the chains kept him caged low to the ground, nearly looking hog-tied to the Texan in Meg.
Ten feet to his right was Cole. After he glanced up to see who they’d brought in this time, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to the concrete floor murmuring something about this being the worst nightmare ever. Cole was strapped into a wheelchair very much like Meg’s. He also looked drugged by the hazy look in his eyes.
Ten feet to his right was her sweet littlest brother, Evan. The look on his face was one of anger mixed with terror. The terror in his eyes stilled Meg more than anything that had been done to her so far. Her sweet, logical brother was terrified. We must be in some seriously deep shit if Evan left his stoicism and ventured into emotions.
Looking back to Creed’s left, Meg saw the newest member of their group, Dr. Sloan Mor. She looked crazed, her gunmetal gray eyes darting around the room franticly, her lips taking on a bluish hue. She looked every bit the thirteen-year-old girl she was.
Arkdone began wheeling Meg to a spot to the left of Sloan where there stood a large machine. Connected to it was a helmet-looking device with colorful wires spilling from the back of it.
A shuffling sound came beside Evan and for the first time, Meg laid eyes on the immoral Dr. Bjorn.
Meg felt the urgent need to send her family soothing emotions. This was terrifying for all of them. Without thinking of the consequences, Meg opened her heart and let her eyes scan the room as she began the out poor of love and strength. Her eyes locked with Creed’s. His strikingly beautiful blue eyes captured her and fed her a surge of strength. He was sending her one thought continually, I love you. I love you. I love you. In return she was sending…
“Enough!” Arkdone bellowed across the room. He sent a blast of pain as he did back in the cell that seared Meg’s empath connection and yanked her emotions hard enough to make her nose start gushing blood again.
“Why do you force me to hurt you, Meg?” Arkdone actually looked to Meg with pain in his eyes. He reached toward the table and grabbed a gauze pack. He shook his head sadly as he used his teeth to rip open the packaging. He stepped closer to Meg and knelt beside her body, still strapped hopelessly to the chair. With a delicate touch, he used the gauze to catch the blood oozing dark down her lips and chin, soaking into the white T-shirt he’d just found for her.
“Don’t touch her,” screamed Creed and Evan at the same time.
“Oh, I’ve already touched her,” Arkdone smiled wickedly. “I just finished helping her bathe. Isn’t that right, Meg?”
Though her head was still pounding, she caught the horrified look on both Evan’s and Creed’s faces. Cole looked up to see what all the yelling was about, then let his head fall back into place.
Meg felt like a cheap whore at what Arkdone insinuated to her brother and her boyfriend. Her face burned red with humiliation. Having suffered through his attentions was appalling enough, but i
t was another dimension of horror to have the men in her life, who respected and loved her, know just how violated she had been.
“Well, now that we’re nearly all present and accounted for, I’ll dispense with the monologue and just get right to the rules of the game.”
He spun in the center of the room to be sure he had everyone’s attention. His hands clasped behind his back as he paced.
Chapter 59 Little Sparrow
“All I know is that they landed somewhere in Louisville, Kentucky.”
“There could be a lot of small airports that could accommodate him.”
“Not as many as you might think.”
“How so?”
“Well, it has to land a Falcon20, so the runway has to be long enough. And they would want to have flown without authorities asking questions about their passengers or cargo, so it would have to be a private airfield.” As he spoke, Alik was using his smart phone to search the area.
“Okay, from what I can tell, it’s going to be one of three places on the outskirts of Louisville. The good news is I’ll know it when I see it.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“These three airports aren’t exactly close to one another. Any guesses?” Alik held the map out to Farrow to glance at as she kept glancing back at the road.
She sighed deeply, a worry line creasing her brow. “What if we just took the one closest to us? Maybe we’ll get lucky?”
“Sounds as good a plan as any,” Alik nodded. “Maybe we’ll luck out.”
“I thought you said there was no such thing as luck, only blessings?”
“Touché.”
Minutes later, they were pulling up into the first private airport. Farrow parked right outside what looked like the main hanger where the building sported a sign reading, “Bluegrass Air Streams.”
“Wait,” Alik said, his eyes glowing indigo. “I think…yeah, pull the SUV around the back of this hanger.”
“What if the cops are called?”
“Trust me.”
“Okay,” Farrow said with a worried sigh. She backed out of the spot she just parked in and pulled around the back, following Alik’s instructions.
“Stop here,” he said, eyes still glowing blue.
Alik was deep in retro-cogging when there came a loud rapping at the driver’s side window.
Startled, Farrow rolled her window down just enough to talk with the man dressed in blue jeans and a clean shirt. He was scowling. “What the hell are you doing, miss? You can’t be back here. Turn this vehicle around and go park in the front, like everyone else.” He looked mad enough to spit nails.
“Yes, sir. Sorry. We were just…”
“I don’t care what you were just doing. Get your vehicle off my tarmac!”
Farrow nodded her understanding and rolled up her window before putting the SUV in drive. “Well, we just made a friend,” she said under her breath in case the guy was a lip-reader. He stood with his arms crossed angrily, watching her every move.
“They were here.” Alik’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Are you sure?” Farrow whipped her head around to look at Alik’s stoic face.
“Yes.” There was so much more behind that one word, but Farrow knew they didn’t have time just then to go into it.
“I have them now,” his voice was as hollow as his eyes were filled with rage. He reached up and pointed his hand back to the main road.
“I won’t lose sight of them, Farrow. Don’t make me stop tracking no matter what. Do you understand?”
“What are you seeing Alik?”
“I see everyone bound and drugged. But I also see we’re not the only ones tracking Arkdone. Williams is here, too.”
“Oh, shit.”
“He’s brought a large plane full of metasoldiers and he’s very obviously pissed. They left not two hours ago.”
“What are you thinking Alik?”
“I’m thinking we may be too late, but nothing’s going to stop me from trying to save my family. I’m not expecting the same from you Farrow. You can just drop me off outside wherever they ended up stopping their vans.”
Alik’s glowing eyes never left the veiled images in front of him, however desperately he wanted to read her facial expression just then. He didn’t have to read it; she said what was in her heart.
“Where you go, I go. Like I promised your mother, I’m all in.”
“Farrow, this looks like it’s turned into a suicide mission.” Alik shook his head; sadness laced with determination defined his tone.
“I choose to fight beside you, Alik Winter. If that means I die beside you, so be it. I have a lot of atoning to do. This would be an honorable way for me to go.”
Never letting his eyes deviate from his echo of a target, he reached out to Farrow, ran his fingers slowly down her right forearm. Once at her hand, he spread her hand palm up and wove his fingers with hers. “You don’t have to atone for anything. God forgives and forgets the moment you simply confess your sins and ask for His grace.”
“I’m not talking about saying a bad word, Alik.”
“I know.” He pointed with his right hand to a turn he wanted Farrow to make. She nodded and obeyed without saying a word; they’d been doing this for so long, she was accustomed to his ways. “Nothing you’ve ever done, said or thought is unforgivable, Farrow. Nothing.”
Farrow frowned deeply. “I was made ‘for war,’ remember, Alik? I’ve been damned from the start. But if helping you makes up for my life even a little, it would be well worth it to me.”
“Please stop talking like that about yourself, Farrow. Don’t you know how precious you are to Him? How precious you are to me?”
Farrow only scowled. A look of resolve and determination etched across her beautiful freckled face.
“Do you care about me?” He asked her point blank.
“Yes,” she said with no hesitation.
“I care about you deeply,” his eyes never left the road, but he had memorized every facial expression his little sparrow ever made. He knew she would be blushing and feeling genuinely unworthy right now. Her eyes would be darting around nervously and her beautiful white teeth would have caught her bottom lip to gnaw on it, almost as punishment for the kindness she was aching to receive.
“Every time you say something negative about yourself, it’s like you’re saying something negative about me. Every time you cut yourself down, you cut me. When you chastise yourself, you chastise me. Do you understand?”
“No.” Farrow was being stubborn. She knew exactly what he was trying to say to her. “I would never do those things to you.”
“But don’t you see? I’ve chosen you. I want to wrap my arms around you and hold you close, safely with me, so when you take out your whip and move to strike yourself, you can’t do it without striking me, too.”
Farrow looked over at Alik and saw his eyes tearing up. His beautiful indigo eyes that saw hours in the past shined even brighter when his rims were painted red with the unshed sadness he felt for his broken sparrow.
“I understand,” she finally said, her voice soft and full of emotion. “And just so you know, I’ve chosen you, too.” The little girl deep inside Farrow wanted to dance for joy at finally finding someone who loved her no matter what, but maybe she felt the surge of joy just as much because that someone was teaching her how to love herself.
“We’re here,” Alik said solemnly.
Chapter 60 Moments of Reckoning
“You will not be able to help one another without risking the detonation of nanoweapons with the triggers in your hearts. That has already been established.”
Dr. Bjorn walked up to Meg with what looked like a silver gun in one hand and a swatch of gauze soaked in rubbing alcohol. Unceremoniously, and without a word, he pulled up the sleeve of her bloody T-shirt, rubbed a site with the gauze then brought the gun to her shoulder and shot her with something that burned as it went into her skin. Meg’s eyes watered, but she still ref
used to cry—even when a Monarch wheeled her badly injured coyote into the room, locked in a too-small crate. Maze was positioned at least ten feet from everyone else.
“Now, the part of the story you haven’t heard: I have achieved a technique called ‘The Perfect Concussion.’ Meg will be one of the first candidates to be affected by the newest nanoprogramming. Trauma-based mind control, while loads of fun to execute, is time consuming and doesn’t always give me, the investor, the best return for my time and money. So, I’ve been having my engineers work on a way to bypass the time-consuming tasks of sleep, food, sensory deprivation, skinning, mind-altering drugs, and so on.
“Now, with The Perfect Concussion, we can expedite the process. Allow me to demonstrate—on your sister,” Arkdone spun on his heels and looked directly at Evan. He and Sloan were the only two captives capable of grasping the gravity of their situation with their scientific backgrounds.
“Use me instead! I have been told I was given the most advanced of the original Infinite serum. I would be a better choice!”
“How noble of you, young man. Yes, you will be next—however, ladies first.”
Dr. Bjorn shuffled toward Meg holding a helmet in his gloved hands. Wires similar in appearance to Medusa’s snakes hung off the back connecting it to a large machine. He slipped the helmet over her head and secured the chinstraps.
“What is this, Arkdone?” Meg was only able to speak through partially gritted teeth due to the tight strap under her jaw.
“Please hold all questions until the end of the demonstration,” he said smiling at his joke.
“Now, without further ado, Dr. Bjorn please proceed.”
The doctor nodded once and flipped a series of switches before hesitating over one more. His eyes locked onto the profile of the metahuman he was about to destroy and a quiver of a smile danced across his lips.
“No! STOP!” Cole yelled. “This is freakin’ messed up! Let her go!”
“Oh, good. Finally awake, Mr. Andrews? Just in time.”
Arkdone held up one finger to Bjorn who paused and awaited further orders.
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