Perfectly Toxic

by Kristine Mason

  “I’m not a brain surgeon, either,” Rachel said. “But here’s how I understand it. This part of the brain is identified to be the source of a person’s empathy, you know, their compassion for others. Noah’s anterior insular cortex was completely black. Which is a similarity to people who have been diagnosed with autism, borderline personality disorder, schizophrenia.” She cleared her throat. “Even worse, the entire frontal and temporal lobes of Noah’s brain—which are linked to not only empathy, but morality and self-control—showed zero activity.”

  “Meaning?” Cash asked.

  “Assuming Noah had normal brain function before being drugged, whatever he was given turned him into a psychopath. Whether it was temporary or not, we’ll never know.”

  “How can you back this up?” He was a mechanic. Cars, he understood. Brains?

  “There’ve been studies done on the brains of serial killers. In every case, they all exhibited the same brain deficiency. That being said, not every person with psychopathic tendencies is a killer.”

  “What would happen if a person already has these tendencies and is given this drug?” Lola asked.

  “That was something I wondered, too. I made a few calls and each source told me that the drug could possibly work more quickly on those individuals than on someone with normal brain function.”

  Cash shook his head. “This is fucked up.”

  “Extremely,” Rachel said. “Because if the drug is what caused the deficiency in Noah’s brain, then this means whoever lives in that big ass house is creating psychopaths. Whether it’s intentional or not, that’s for you three to discover.”

  The worry in Lola’s eyes heightened his own fears. Madeline—whoever the woman was—would not have the chance to scramble Mel’s brain. If her intent was to create a killer, he’d gladly give her what she wanted…without the drug.

  All she had to do was mess with his wife.

  PART IV

  “Even psychopaths have emotions. Then again, maybe not.”

  —Richard Ramirez

  Chapter 16

  The House of Archer, Bower, Georgia

  Monday, 3:29 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

  SHE’S DEAD.

  Rodney paced the hallway in front of Adeline’s bedroom. Imagined curling his hands around her throat. Watching the life drain from her eyes. Her breath leaving her body.

  The door swung open. He crowded her at the threshold. She showed no intimidation. Instead, her lips tilted in a mocking smile. He didn’t know whether to wipe it off her face with his fist, or his mouth.

  He backhanded her, knocking her into the door. Before she could react, he took her by the arms and threw her on the bed. Her eyes wide, her hands fisted, she swung at him. He caught her by the wrist, pinned her against the mattress and kissed her. Tasted her blood, her anger, her vibrancy. He could never kill her. He couldn’t live without her. He couldn’t live with anyone but Adeline. From the moment Gramma had left for Arizona, he’d changed. Or maybe he’d been a violent bastard all along. Like his father, like his grandfather. Like all the Archer men.

  He kissed her harder, gripped her breast, then pinched her nipple. Maybe he’d been suppressing his thirst for inflicting pain. Now that he and Adeline were alone in the house, and no longer under Gramma’s watchful eye, he’d had the freedom to explore and act on the gratuitous, lustful and cruel thoughts in his head. Was that how it was for Adeline? Had she been wired to not give a shit about suppressing anything? Did she even give a shit about him?

  He broke the kiss, then moved off of her. “Bitch,” he said, wiping her blood from his mouth. “You say you love me, that you care about me, but you don’t. I think you like hurting me, just like you like hurting everyone around you. And I was stupid enough to believe you could at least feel love for me.” He shook his head. “I won’t leave. I won’t force you to leave. Instead, I’m going to chain you to your bed.”

  She scooted across the bed until she was seated at the edge of the mattress, and gave him another one of her sexy, mocking smiles. “Will I be naked? Will you use me whenever you want?”

  The image of her naked and at his disposal filled his head, and hardened his dick. “You’re a bitch.”

  “I heard you the first time. But this bitch brought you a present.”

  “Three new subjects to kill. How thoughtful.” After spending all morning digging Jim’s grave, he’d decided he was finished experimenting. He wasn’t even sure if his drug could fix Adeline. Who the hell was he to play God and try to manipulate the warped brain she’d been given? Even if his drug worked, who would believe him? His career was tainted. He’d been compared to Nazi doctors who’d experimented on the Jews. He was ruined. The only thing he could count on at this point in his life was his love and hatred for Adeline.

  “Unless you’re blind, you had to notice the woman. We did agree that we should experiment on a female subject, did we not?”

  “That was before our subjects started dying.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Only one died. You murdered the other one.”

  “For you.”

  Her eyes softened. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I brought the woman for you.” She held up a hand. “Yes, as one of our subjects, but I also thought you might want to experiment with someone other than me.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “You want me to have sex with the woman? I think you’ve finally lost your mind.” He didn’t want another woman. God help him, he wanted Adeline.

  “But you’ve only been with me.”

  “What does that matter?” he asked, then narrowed his eyes as jealousy burned a path along his chest. “This is about Liam. Give me the girl you brought, then maybe I’ll let you have him, right?”

  She tossed her hands in the air. “Forget it.”

  “I won’t forget it. Tell me the truth. You want that man.” He quickly rushed toward her and gripped her upper arms. “Admit it.”

  “If I wanted another man, I would have left you years ago. Instead I’ve humiliated myself, begging you to have sex with me.” She struggled to free herself. “If you don’t want to have fun with the girl, or for us to have fun with her, then just drug her and move on with the experiment. Gramma’s going to be home before we know it, and then we’ll be back to dealing with the old bag again.”

  A sense of urgency rushed through him. He didn’t want to go back to the days before Gramma had left. The old woman knew Adeline was a murderer. She was always watching, waiting, insinuating herself in their lives and making them miserable. While they’d had heated moments since Gramma had been away, Adeline had also showed her softer side. A side he hadn’t seen from her in years.

  He gave her a shake. “You wouldn’t be jealous if I had sex with the woman?”

  “Of course I would. I love you. I love knowing no one else has experienced what I’ve had with you.”

  “I won’t rape the woman. But I will drug her.” He let go of her. “I’ve already doubled Liam’s dosage for today. Tomorrow we’re skipping the placebo and going straight for my drug. No more A-Line.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That could kill him.”

  Good. “He’s going to die anyway. I also plan on skipping the initial testing phase on the three you brought home today. Since you gave the woman a small dose, and she hasn’t reacted any differently than our previous subjects, she should be fine. As for the men, I don’t care how they react.” He turned away and started for the door. When he stepped into the hallway, he looked back at her. “There will be no other test subjects. By the end of the week, the experiments will be through. If my drug works, fantastic. If not, you will help me bury them in the barn.”

  With concern in her eyes, she took several steps forward. “And then what? We’ll still have three weeks before Gramma comes home.”

  He approached her, then pressed his hand between her thighs. “I’m sure we can find something to do.” He moved his hand to her breast. “Are you going to stay in your room, or do
you plan to help me prep the subjects?”

  Her eyes glittered with defiance and desire. “I’d be happy to help, doctor. Which subject shall I prep for you?”

  “Take the woman. She doesn’t have a penis for you to hold.”

  ****

  She doesn’t have a penis for you to hold.

  Rodney could kiss her ass. She didn’t need a penis to have fun, just a playmate—willing or not.

  Adeline reached the second floor landing. Rodney stood at the stairs leading to the attic rooms, but faced her, his arms crossed over his chest. “If you finish with the woman before I’m done in the attic, wait for me. I don’t want you alone with the other man.”

  “Yes, doctor.”

  The one corner of his mouth turned up in an irresistible smirk, before he turned his back and headed up the stairs. She watched him go, and wondered how Liam was dealing with the double dosage. Based on both her and Rodney’s studies of the brain, she was fully aware of what hers lacked. In theory, A-Line should take a normal brain and make it just like hers. If that were the case, what would A-Line do to a schizophrenic? People with the illness were already wired wrong. No, they weren’t psychopathic, but they had psychotic episodes and lacked the empathy necessary to be considered normal. Liam was clearly schizophrenic. If she worked him the right way, she could possibly train him to be under her control, listen to only her voice. Or, he could snap and try to kill them all.

  She would have to watch out for Rod. While the idea of creating her very own monster to do her bidding was appealing, she would kill Liam if he dared to harm Rodney.

  Pushing Liam and Rod from her mind, she opened the door to Melanie’s room, the same room where Rodney had killed Troy. The pretty blonde lay flat on the bed. Since they only had the two adjustable beds in the attic rooms, and because of the way Noah had been able to escape by breaking the chair, they’d had no choice but to bind her to a regular bed. Gramma’s bed.

  “How are you feeling?” Adeline asked as she closed the door.

  Melanie slowly rotated her head toward her. “I’m going to kill you,” she said, her words more coherent than twenty minutes ago, but still slightly slurred.

  “You’re repeating yourself.”

  “I’m making my point clear.”

  “Still, you should come up with a new way to threaten someone. Like: I’m going to slit your throat. Or, I’m going to strangle you. Maybe, I’m going to bash in your skull. I prefer the slit your throat line. I actually did that once. Oops, almost forgot. I bashed someone’s skull in, too.”

  Melanie moved her head and stared at the ceiling. “Aren’t you scary.”

  “Sarcasm. How clever.” She approached the woman, then bent close to her ear. “Just wait until you see how scary I truly am.” She kissed Melanie’s cheek. “Okay, sweetie, here’s the deal. You’re screwed. Plain and simple. If you don’t remember, my name is Madeline. The strong, handsome man who carried you to this bed is Roderick. I’m trying to talk him into having sex with you, but he’s not interested.” She shook her head. “He has all kinds of moral standards. The good news—I don’t. We’ll have to save the good times for later. Rod will be down shortly to give you your dosage, and I need to have you prepped before I move on to Harry.”

  Tears slipped from Melanie’s eyes and into her hair. “Why are you drugging us?”

  She went into the closet, then took several pillows from the shelf. She had no intention of discussing the whys and hows with the woman. That was boring and, quite frankly, none of her business. Once she reached the bed again, she shoved the pillows beneath Melanie’s head and upper back until the woman could have a clear view of the TV.

  “Tell me why,” Melanie sobbed.

  “First, tell me how much you love your husband,” she countered.

  Melanie squeezed her eyes shut. “With every part of my mind, body and soul.”

  “Even though he couldn’t support you and keep you from living on the street? So strange.” After pulling on a pair of latex gloves, she picked up the duct tape from the nightstand. “This is going to be unpleasant,” she said, slapping tape over the woman’s mouth. “Very unpleasant.” Adeline began wrapping the tape along the woman’s forehead, and around the top pillow. Satisfied Melanie’s head had been secured in place, she tore off a piece of surgical tape, captured a chunk of the woman’s long eyelashes, then taped her eyelid open. Although annoyed by Melanie’s muffled screams, she honestly couldn’t blame the woman. How helpless she must feel. How vulnerable.

  She grinned as she finished taping the other eyelid open. “Am I starting to get the teeniest bit scary?”

  The woman fought against her restrains. Her eyes bulged with fear. She moaned and groaned as tears streaked down her face.

  “Relax.” Adeline turned on the television. “Enjoy some entertainment,” she said, walking to the recording device. “Listen to this recording I made for you.” When she hit PLAY, her voice filled the room.

  As Melanie continued to cry, Adeline took care of her IV. Just as she checked to ensure that the proper amount of saline was going into the woman’s veins, the bedroom door opened. “How’s Eliot? Enjoying his first trip on the A-Line?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. He’s understandably upset.” Rodney approached the bed and looked down on Melanie. “But once he comes to terms with the drug and what it does, he’ll relax. They all do. Is she ready?”

  “All set.” She grabbed his wrist before he reached for the syringe. “Are you sure you don’t want to touch her? Aren’t you curious to know what another woman’s breasts feel like in your hand?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “I am.” She rested her hand on Melanie’s breast, then kneaded it. Boring. If she wanted to touch a tit or nipple, and gain any pleasure from it, she’d touch her own. “Mmm,” she hummed anyway. “I can see why a woman might take pleasure in another woman’s body.” She removed her hand, and placed it on Rodney’s erection. She grinned as she rubbed him through his jeans. “I think you liked that.”

  He knocked her hand away. “Enough. We still have the other subject to prep.” He tapped Melanie’s arm, then inserted the needle. After he removed it, he turned for the door.

  “Wait, you only gave her half the dosage,” she said.

  “Because you gave her some earlier and she’s half the size of our male subjects.”

  Since he made absolute sense, she didn’t argue. After all, she didn’t want Melanie a drooling basket case. For what Adeline had planned, she wanted the woman cognizant. Melanie claimed to love her husband with her mind, body and soul. She couldn’t wait to test the lovebird. By the time she was through, Melanie wouldn’t be thinking about her love for Harry, or even divorcing the man. She’d be thinking of ways to kill him.

  ****

  Terror tore her from the inside out, pierced her rapidly beating heart, scraped her brain to the point Melanie knew she was on the verge of losing her mind. Whatever drug they gave her again, it rushed through her body. The first time she’d been injected was nothing compared to what she was dealing with now. The rope around her wrists and ankles kept her immobile. The tape holding open her eyelids left her eyes burning. Being forced to watch gory videos and listen to that witch’s voice was torturous. Made her stomach sick.

  Poor Noah. Now she understood. Now she could see why the man had gone over the edge, far enough he’d gouged his own face. She didn’t understand the point of the drug. When Madeline had shot it into her system while they’d been in the car, the drug had affected her body, her speech and had screwed with her thought process. She didn’t know if the same thing wasn’t happening because Roderick had only given her half of a dose, or because her body had become quickly accustomed to it. She only knew the couple scared the hell out of her.

  Madeline was crazy. Certifiably so. Thank God she couldn’t coerce Roderick into touching her. For now. She’d been in Madeline’s presence for probably no more than two hours. Even if Lola was able to track the GPS chi
p implanted beneath Harrison’s skin, too much could happen in the next thirty-four.

  Tears stung her eyes. God, how she wanted to blink them away. How many others had suffered the same fate? How was Harrison handling what they were doing to him? How angry was Cash? When Madeline had asked how much she’d loved her husband, she’d told her the truth. She’d do anything for Cash. Right now, she wished she had quit ATL before agreeing to this case. Or, at the very least, had chosen not to go with the woman.

  For the first time in her life, she had no hope. Not an ounce. Growing up poor was nothing in comparison to this short time in hell. Even then, she’d had hope, along with courage and strength. At a young age she’d known that the only person who could change her course, was her. She didn’t have to be swamp trash, she could be a lady. While her memories of her mom were sketchy, she’d never forget the time Mama had dressed up in a beautiful pink dress, elegant enough to be worn by a princess. She’d made it herself. Had spent months saving money for the material, then another month sewing the dress. There hadn’t been enough material left to make one for Mel, but there’d been enough for Mama to create a small purse.

  Tears stung her eyes. Instead of thinking about how it ached to not be able to blink them away, she focused on that tiny purse. Carefully wrapped in tissue paper, and safely stored in the closet Cash had made for her. In her mind, she unwrapped the paper, then opened the purse. There were the diamond earrings in it that had once belonged to her mother. Although the diamonds were real, they were so microscopic, she didn’t know how they hadn’t slipped from the prongs. She’d had them appraised once, and the jeweler about took a knife to the throat when he’d laughed at her.

  She still didn’t know what Daddy had paid for those earrings. Any time she’d asked him, he gave her a different number. But when she brought them up, a wistful smile would always cross his face, and he’d tell her all about the night he’d taken her mama out in the beautiful pink dress.