Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4)

by J. Bryan

  “I want your help with the boy.”

  “Seth?”

  “He won’t listen to me, but I think he’ll be more willing to listen to a pretty little thing like you,” Ward said. He didn’t see how any red-blooded American male could ignore her, with her high cheekbones, dark red hair, and dancer’s body.

  “I could talk with Seth, too, if you like,” she said.

  “Don’t just talk to him, convince him. I want you to redirect his affections.”

  “I don’t think I understand, General Kilpatrick.”

  “You understand. Stroke his ego, stroke his cock if you have to, do whatever it takes to change his mind. Make him switch his allegiance from the plague girl over to you.”

  Mariella gasped and even blushed a little. He just watched her coolly.

  “Are you serious?” she whispered.

  “You said you wanted to be a spy. It’s not the movies, it’s not ninja fights and poison darts hidden in your wristwatch. It’s about gaining people’s trust. And this is the way you’re going to do it. Female spies use every asset they have, including their feminine wiles.”

  “My feminine wiles?” Mariella giggled.

  “I assume you have some. This is your first assignment. The first test of your ability to act as an intelligence operative.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She beamed. “I do know boys, sir, and how to use their feelings.”

  “Then you think you can handle that?”

  “Please, he’s not a challenge. He’s very immature, even for an American boy.”

  “Good. Go to his cell tonight. The guards will let you in.”

  “I’m excited!” The girl was practically bouncing in her chair before she recovered herself and tried to look proper. “I mean, I’ll do it, sir! But I could still talk to Jenny for you, too.”

  “Not just now,” he said. “I have special plans for Jenny.”

  Mariella sat in her chair, smiling at him, her eyes practically glowing—her eyes, the same green hue as his own, as if they were mirrors reflecting his own gaze. She might be useful, but her presence made Ward uncomfortable, stirring up the prickly-flesh feeling that had turned into a strange hallucination last time. He probably needed psych meds, but he wasn’t about to tell anyone that his brain might be slipping. Once something like that got added to a file, Ward’s enemies in the Pentagon could use it against him. As a man who’d primarily gotten ahead in life through blackmail, he knew there were a number of top brass who wouldn’t mind seeing him retired, one way or another.

  “You can go now,” Ward told Mariella, and she hopped out of her chair with another “Yes, sir!” and bounced to the door. As she left, he watched her shapely ass, framed in the two-hundred-dollar Armani jeans he’d paid for out of his agency’s budget. He felt a powerful urge to grab the spoiled rich girl, throw her across his desk, and rip off that tight denim...

  He didn’t know where the thought had come from. It wasn’t attraction, it was a need to dominate. He wanted to knock her down, put her beneath him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, until it became like a painful throbbing in the right side of his head. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was the same scene...but in his imagination, it wasn’t Mariella he was fucking on his desk, but the gray-eyed blond temptress in the black S.S. uniform, Alise.

  He was wearing the same kind of black uniform, though highly decorated with medals. He was taking her in his preferred way, from behind while she leaned across his desk. Sometimes he would slap her until she was sore, or bang her head against his metal desktop, once leaving her with a bloody lip. She kept coming back for more, determined to have a supernormal child for the Reich. Kranzler himself liked the idea, and looked forward to each of their trysts, dazzled by her beauty, her willingness, and her tolerance for pain. He knew it was only because her paranormal touch enhanced the experience for him, but he enjoyed it.

  Today, he didn’t have much time to spare, so he was trying to finish fast.

  “Dr. Wichtmann wants to breed your cousin with the Italian girl who sees the future,” he was telling her.

  “Niklaus?” Alise looked back at him, clearly offended. “You want to breed my cousin with a Sicilian peasant?”

  “A supernormal.” He wiped sweat from his face and kept sliding in and out of her.

  “It would be a corruption of our noble German blood! He should be crossed with someone...” She gritted her teeth as he mounted her harder and faster. She was just barely tolerating it. “Vilja and Roza are clearly more Aryan. You could cross him with those two.”

  “Those two are not showing useful abilities in our tests,” he told her. “Mia has a gift. The Party leaderships wants results, supernormal babies. I agree we should cross Niklaus with her.”

  “Save Niklaus for someone worthy of my family,” Alise said. “Breed the American boy with the dirty Sicilian.”

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back toward him, and she shrieked. “Are you giving me orders?” he asked.

  “I’m being insubordinate, sir. I should be punished.”

  “You should.” He covered her mouth and nose with one hand, without warning, making her struggle for air while he came inside her. He didn’t release her until he was finished. She lay on his desk, looking up at him.

  He loved her, and he hated her for it. He could imagine keeping her prisoner in his own house, making her suffer every kind of pain imaginable. He couldn’t get enough of the sweetly evil girl.

  “Sebastian and Mia,” he said. “I can get Dr. Wichtmann to agree to that.”

  “Good.” She watched him pull his pants on. She dressed herself, now wearing the drab regulation cotton underwear he’d insisted she wear. She smoothed down her skirt, and they walked out the door to go back to work.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jenny sat in her clear cell and watched the steel door to the outer lab open. Two guards in clear biohazard masks and black body armor entered, followed by two people in hazardous material suits with white crosses inside red circles to show they were medical. These two wheeled a large equipment cart between them. Another pair of guards followed. The four guards had their yellow and black TASER guns drawn, and they all watched Jenny.

  One of the medical people in the hazmat suits approached the airlock doors into Jenny’s cell and spoke into the console by the outer door. She was a female, middle-aged.

  “Jennifer?” the woman asked.

  “That’s me.”

  “I’m Dr. Andrea Parker. I’m an OBG, and I’m here strictly to check on your baby.”

  Jenny didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure how to take this situation, but obviously she couldn’t trust anyone here.

  “We would like to come into your cell and do an ultrasound,” the doctor said. “Is that all right with you?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I don’t know why you would turn down prenatal care.”

  “Because I’m a prisoner here? Because the general is a psychopath? Believe me, I know him from way back,” Jenny said.

  The doctor looked around the cell where Jenny now lived. “Look, I don’t fully know the situation, and I understand you don’t want to be here. I also know a bit about your...unusual circumstances. For the sake of your baby, I strongly urge you to let me help you.”

  “Why would Kranzler care about my baby?” Jenny asked.

  “Who?”

  “Whatever his name is now. General Ward Kilpatrick. Is he trying to breed more of us again?”

  “I...don’t know what you’re talking about. I was brought in to focus on you. I had to sign multiple confidentiality agreements under threat of God knows what. But your case does interest me.”

  “Where did you work before this?” Jenny asked.

  “Yale University, most recently. And I move around the country, several research hospitals. I specialize in unborn children with severely ill mothers.”

  Jenny nodded. That sounded promising, but she still
wasn’t sold. “What did the general tell you? Why did he bring you here?”

  “I told you why, Jennifer. To care for your baby. If that doesn’t make sense to you, you’ll have to discuss it with him. We’ve brought an ultrasound machine. Don’t you want to make sure your pregnancy is progressing well? Don’t you want to see your baby, and learn whether you’re having a boy or a girl?”

  Jenny didn’t know what to think. In their last life, Kranzler had been obsessed with breeding those who had a supernatural touch, some kind of Nazi eugenics thing. In this life, maybe he was just curious about her pregnancy with her pox, and probably saw Jenny’s baby as a future test subject for himself. She knew that the baby did need care, and she was dying to know whether the baby was well or not.

  “Okay,” Jenny said. “We’ll do it. Just don’t try to hurt me, or...”

  “Lie back on your bed and don’t move,” one of the guards instructed. Jenny did as she was told. They would shackle her first thing. In the couple of weeks she’d been here, they’d started letting her wander around her cell, but if anyone came in, she had to submit to being chained down again.

  The four guards passed through the outer door to her cell, then the inner door. They approached her cautiously, but she didn’t give them any trouble as they cuffed her wrists and ankles. They stood aside as Dr. Parker entered, followed by the other man in the hazmat suit with the medical markings. Apparently he was some kind of technician, because he set up the equipment cart next to Jenny’s bed.

  “Just relax, Jennifer,” the doctor said, smiling slightly behind her clear face shield. “I’ll have to lift your hospital gown.”

  Jenny glanced at the four guards in black armor, all of them male. Dr. Parker followed her gaze, then said, “We need the four of you to look away.”

  “Sorry, doc,” one of the men said, his voice coming from an electronic speaker on the front of his mask. “We have to keep our eyes on her anytime someone is in the cell. Specific orders.”

  Dr. Parker sighed, then moved to block their view with her own body.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jenny as she raised the hem of the gown up to Jenny’s breasts, revealing her pale, swollen belly. She squirted some kind of shockingly cold gel onto Jenny’s belly, and Jenny hissed a little. “The gel can feel a bit chilly,” the doctor warned her, a few seconds too late.

  “It does,” Jenny said.

  “This is the transducer.” The doctor held up a plastic wand about the size of a flashlight, but flat and wide at the end. “This will take an ultrasound image of your baby, which we’ll see here.” She gestured toward a small monitor.

  Jenny’s heart raced, and the beeping heart monitor announced it to everyone. She was finally going to see her baby. For a moment, she almost forgot about being a prisoner.

  The doctor pressed the transducer against Jenny’s belly and moved it back and forth. Jenny watched, first excited, then frustrated as meaningless gray and black blobs filled the monitor, appearing and disappearing.

  “I don’t see anything,” Jenny said.

  “One second.” The doctor moved the transducer again, then gestured at roundish blobs on the monitor. “You see? There’s the head, the curve of the back...”

  Jenny blinked. It was like an optical illusion—one moment, it was just shifting blots. The next, it was obviously a baby, the head curled inward toward the chest, legs tucked up toward the belly.

  “Oh!” Jenny said. She bit down and forced herself not to cry, knowing her captors were watching. It was almost impossible, because the grainy image was ripping her heart open. Then it turned over, swimming like a little fish, and Jenny gasped again.

  “Looks like she’s awake,” the doctor said.

  “She? It’s a girl?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Does she look...is she...healthy?”

  “Head to body ratio is good, spine developing correctly...and there, can you see that?” The doctor pointed to a pulsing shape near the center of the baby-blob. “She’s got a strong heartbeat.”

  “That’s her heart?” Jenny asked. She heard her voice breaking and cursed herself. She had to keep up a tough shell and prevent Ward from seeing her feelings. The more love and concern she showed for her unborn child, the more control he would think he had over her. Better if everyone thought she was a monster.

  “She looks good,” the doctor said. “She’s on the small end of the scale, but so are you.”

  Jenny fought the urge to tell the doctor everything—how she needed a C-section for the delivery, and she needed Seth standing right beside her. She told herself there would be time for that. If she started begging for things now, then Ward would have immediate leverage.

  “When is this thing going to be out of me, anyway?” Jenny asked. “I’m sick of carrying it around already.”

  The doctor’s eyes widened. “This thing? You mean the baby girl?”

  “Whatever. I never wanted to get pregnant in the first place.” Jenny scowled. “Now I’m stuck with this stupid baby. I hate it already. Can you do a quick abortion while you’re here?”

  The doctor gave her a look of loathing. “It’s far too late! You only have eighteen weeks left. Expect to deliver at the end of May.”

  “That’s going to take forever. Hey, can I get any painkillers out of this? Morphine, maybe? My feet and back are starting to hurt.” Jenny winked. “Anything with opiates would be awesome.”

  The doctor just shook her head. “You need to keep yourself healthy. It’s not the baby’s fault that you didn’t want her. You have to give her a fair start in life.”

  “Oh, sure. Just tell the general that I need to go for a long jog in the woods every day. And tell him to let me out of this place while you’re at it. And bring me some fucking cigarettes and a bottle of vodka. Not the cheap stuff, either.”

  “You can’t have any of that,” the doctor said, backing away. “I don’t know how you got here, Jennifer, but I’m starting to think that keeping you locked up might be the best thing for the baby. Let’s go.”

  The technician wheeled the cart as he and the doctor left. When they were outside the airlock, the four guards unlocked Jenny’s cuffs and backed out, one by one, their stun guns pointed at her.

  Everything was wrong, Jenny thought. Seth should have been here, and they should have been at a normal doctor’s office. She’d demanded to see him every day, and had been denied, but now she really needed him. She lay on her bed and clutched a pillow.

  They were at the same base as last time, with the same general in charge, but now they were caged and monitored with modern technology. It would be hard to escape.

  Only one thing was better: Ashleigh was dead, and so there was no love-charmer, no version of Alise here to play tricks on her. If anyone played mind games this time, it would be Jenny.

  * * *

  Juliana stood in the lab, looking down at the man with the torture scars strapped to the hospital gurney.

  “Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked Alise, the only other person in the lab. Kranzler and the scientists would be watching from the dark windows above, but Jenny wasn’t thinking about them at all. She could only think of Alise, beautiful Alise, and doing whatever would please her.

  “Everything’s fine.” Alise smiled and, happily, breathed out another cloud of pink spores, which felt delicious on Juliana’s arms and neck. Alise had greeted Juliana with a dose of it that morning and walked her to the lab, and Juliana had been craving more. She wished she could touch Alise—she could only imagine what it would be like in the girl’s arms, her touch full of warmth and love.

  “You should send him to Sebastian when I’m done,” Juliana said, dazed. “Sebastian can heal him.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Alise winked. “Go ahead. It’ll be good, I promise. I love you, Juliana. I wouldn’t make you do anything wicked.”

  “I love you, too, Alise,” Juliana confessed. Then she reached out her hands and placed them on the
man on the table—who was, as Alise had pointed out, a convicted criminal who had hurt people.

  The man howled as dark blisters and sores ruptured all over his body, radiating out from where her hands touched his bare shoulders. The man went into convulsions, gagging out pink foamy saliva while his tongue swelled and bled.

  In less than a minute, it was all over, the man lying still and leaking dark blood from dozens of lesions, his head misshapen.

  “You have to get Sebastian now,” Juliana whispered to Alise. “Like you promised.”

  “I told you, I’ll take care of everything,” Alise said. “Come on, let’s get out of the way. I have some catalogs if you feel like shopping!” Alise blew another cloud of pink spores at her, and Juliana shivered in delight.

  “Anything you want to do is fine with me.” Juliana beamed at her while they left the lab. She was already forgetting all about the dead man on the table behind them.

  The next morning, an hour before sunrise, Juliana woke in her bed shaking and drenched in freezing sweat. Alise’s spell had worn off, and she understood that she’d killed a man in cold blood. Alise had thoroughly enchanted her with her dangerous power, the one that made people mindlessly obedient to her.

  Juliana sobbed as the full impact of what she’d done slammed into her. She’d spent her life avoiding everyone as much as possible, trying to keep the demon plague trapped inside her while it was eager to flow out and infect others. She’d never killed anyone when it wasn’t self-defense...except for her mother at birth. Now she’d taken another innocent life, and she could never undo it. The idea that the scientists would have brought Sebastian in after her was a lie—they wanted to study the dead man to understand her powers, and healing him immediately would have made the entire test pointless.

  Juliana clutched her pillow tight. She looked across the dim room at Mia, sleeping soundly. How could she ever face her friend again? How could she ever face anyone again? Juliana felt she deserved to die for what she’d done.

  She’d wanted to leave before Alise had ensorceled her—now she would insist on it. She promised herself she would never fall under Alise’s spell again.