Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three) (31 page)

“I d-don't k-know.” Her voice shook.

Stacey wondered if her problem was more fear or nerves than cold. “Where are you from?”

The girl glanced up at the camera in the corner with a flash of concern. “I was born and raised in Haiti.”

“Well, you need to get out of that blanket and let your body assimilate. What's your name?” Stacey kept a bite to her speech; coddling would not help this girl at all.

The girl slowly dropped the blanket but made no move to remove her coat. Her light-brown hair was cut like a boy’s. “Kelly. I'm his nanny.” She used her chin to indicate Johnny playing happily in the pots and pans on the floor.

“His name is Johnny. I'm his mother, Stacey.”

Kelly nodded. “I heard them talk about you.”

Stacey wanted to ask what else the girl had overheard but held her tongue. “I assume you’re iron-rich then.” The girl nodded. “Do you know how many people are on this frozen rock?”

She girl shook her head. “A lot, I think. There were people here when we got here, and I can feel movement of people walking around all the time.”

Okay, that was interesting. Stacey couldn't feel motion at all, but again, she didn't comment. Perhaps the girl didn't realize she revealed her ability in the simple statement. No reason to call more attention to it. She tucked the knowledge away. “What do you do in Haiti?”

“Um ...” The girl blushed. “Between fertility isolation, I help in the nursery.” Stacey could well imagine what happened to the girl during fertility. Fucking Osiris and his breeding labs. The fact that the girl was freed from a cage between cycles probably meant she'd been born to the lab and knew no other life. Osiris reeked of evil madness, yet the sharp intelligence behind his cold gaze horrified her more. Stacey wondered if anyone else picked up on the subtle feminine speech pattern of Osiris's high-pitched voice. No wonder he held females in such low regard.

“Do you have kids?”

The girl nodded and swallowed. “One … a girl, I think.” Her gaze kept shifting to the cameras mounted on the wall.

Stacey looked up and waved her hand. The inner lens of the camera didn’t move. Johnny went back to his “toys” and Stacey paced the room. The cameras never moved, even when she went into a corner beyond its lens range.

“What are you doing?” Kelly asked.

Stacey was pretty sure the cameras weren’t fully functional if they worked at all. It didn’t mean there weren’t microphones. “Looking for something to bash Osiris over the head with.”

“Frank …” Kelly began. “He’s the leader of the Haitian compound.” She clarified. “He seems intimidated by Osiris … and he’s a realllly scary guy. I don’t think you should bash him over the head. He might get angry.”

“Ya think?” Stacey laughed, hoping Osiris was listening in. “So tell me about your daughter.” The girl looked confused, so Stacey rolled her hand encouraging her to talk.

“I don’t know if she’s mine for sure, but when I started helping in the nursery, she was among the children. She’s the right age and she looks like me and her … sire.” Kelly’s voice shook when she mentioned “sire.” Raised in a breeding compound, did Kelly even know the word “rapist”?

With a shaky hand, Kelly held out a folded-up piece of paper. Stacey reached for it, noting the yearning expression on Kelly’s face. She carefully unfolded it to see a decent pencil sketch of a maybe one-year-old baby. The resemblance to Kelly was remarkable. It was the solemn expression in the child’s eyes that pulled at Stacey’s heart. “Does she have your blue eyes?”

Kelly nodded. “I doubt I’ll ever see her again … now,” she whispered, refolding the paper when Stacey handed it back to her.

Stacey gripped the girl’s hand and released a small wave of heat. The girl gasped and looked at her wide-eyed. Stacey lifted a finger to her lips. “If I can get you out of here, I will, okay?” The girl nodded, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Johnny toddled up, rubbing his eyes. “You sleepy, baby boy?” Stacey sat on the second platform with Johnny in her lap, and he latched onto her wrist. Stacey flooded her love into him. Johnny sighed with contentment and dozed off. Grabbing her coat from the floor, she spread it open beside her and laid him down. Johnny’s demeanor was more subdued than normal, probably the residual effects of narcotics.

“Did you feel that?” Kelly blurted, her gaze terrified.

Stacey didn't feel anything. The door swung open.
It hasn't been two hours yet, has it?

Hawk stepped in, and the girl cowered from the sight of his tattooed appearance. Hawk ignored Kelly completely. “The medical room is ready for you.”

“Awww, Hawk, you asking me on a date?” Stacey batted her eyelashes sarcastically at him. He chuckled with a slow grin. She led the way into the hall, grateful to see Kelly move over to sit beside her sleeping son.

Once the door shut, Hawk whispered, “You need to quit antagonizing Osiris.”

Stacey gave him a long look. “Then he needs to quit pissing me off.”

He caught her arm. “Stacey … I don't want to be called on to hurt or kill you.”

She placed her hand over his. “I'll make you a deal—you don't hurt me and I won't hurt you.” His eyes widened as she let a hint of heat escape into her fingers against his arm.

In companionable silence they weaved through forked tunnels with inclines and down-slopes. Stacey doubted she'd be able to find her way back by herself. It was like a maze lit by green florescent sticks. The brightness from the high-lit room Hawk eventually stopped at hurt her eyes for a second. Scotty and another male with tattoos that nearly matched Hawk and Osiris’s stood on either side of the entry.

“Pick a number,” the new brother ordered her.

What?
“Ten.” Might as well remind them of their brother being tortured.

Scotty pursed his lips and Hawk narrowed his eyes, but the one she'd yet to be introduced to curled his lip ferociously. Scotty nodded and followed her into the room, leaving Hawk and the other male outside. Stacey flushed. The number nine was closer to ten than twelve—the brothers had made Stacey decide which would have to watch her medical exam. Honestly, she'd prefer it be the hostile guy than the two who'd formed some connection to her. Damn it.

A small Elven male looked up from a microscope. “Disrobe and lie on the table.” He returned to the magnified slide.

Stacey hesitated, knowing she didn't really have a choice. The instruments spread out across the steel rolling table and the stirrups on the bed gave her a clue to the kind of exam ahead of her. She remembered the exam in the breeding lab, and the memory sent a shiver of dread through her. Stacey took a bracing breath, lifted her chin, and shucked out of her cloths. Scotty stared at her tattoo for a minute and then averted his face.

She refused to let the humiliation and pain of the invasive examination show on her face. The small Elven didn't have a gentle touch. His methods were borderline cruel.

The Elven snapped off his gloves, shoved a box of pre-moistened tissues at her and scurried back to his microscope. Stacey cleaned off the blood from between her legs and dressed quickly. If she never entered this room again, it would be too soon. Johnny’s feeding and the pints taken by the so-called healer left her lightheaded. Through dark-spotted vision, she saw Scotty move quickly to lift her into his arms before she fell. A low growl vibrated from his chest into her shoulder.

“I’m okay, Scotty. Just give me a minute. I’ll be fine.” She tried to grin.

His furled brows reminded her so much of Mick’s, giving her an easy comfort with Scotty. Hawk opened the door, his gaze moving from Stacey in Scotty arms to the piled-up blood pints next to the exam table. Anger flooded her new pal’s expression. Hawk stepped past them and returned with his punctured wrist over a glass. Sealing the wound, he handed Stacey the offering.

“I’ve never needed blood before.” Her blood-starved cells cried out to drink. Dentes erupted into her mouth.

Hawk gave her a look of compassion. “It happens sometimes. Even to us iron-rich Hulven.”

“Take it, Stacey. You need it,” Scotty added.

Her trembling hand threatened to spill the thick red liquid. With Hawk’s help holding the edge of the glass to her lips, the warm, rich blood energized her with each swallow, infusing her with strength, invigorating her system. Is this how it felt for the anemic Volaticus?

She practically skipped between them as they traverse the hallways. Stacey hoped they were going in the direction of her room. “Where did that other guy go?”

“Seven was called away,” Hawk answered with a disgusted tone.

Seven, Nine, and Twelve. “How many brothers and sisters do you guys have?”

Hawk shook his head at Scotty. Maybe they wouldn’t answer her, or couldn’t. Mick had told her of the compulsions Osiris instilled into his children. Then Scotty seemed to answer for both himself and Hawk. “We don’t know. The youngest I knew of was named Fifteen; he was killed. Many of us have been killed. Including Ten … errr, Mick … there are four of us here.”

As they approached the door of her room, the next door opened. Sounds of Mick being tortured reached her ears. Osiris stepped out with a sadistic grin. “Ah, Stacey. Care to join in the fun?”

Her stomach churned at the thought. There was no way she could hurt Mick. “You’re disgusting. I’ll bet you torture small animals for fun, too.”

He backhanded her. The suddenness of the blow caught her off guard. Stunned, it took her a second to realize she was on the ground. Then anger sank in. Stacey rose to her feet, shoulders back, and stood eye to eye with Osiris. “You feel tough now?”

He narrowed his eyes. Palm up toward the torture room with a glint of anticipation, he left her little choice but to enter. Anchored to face the wall, Mick’s back oozed blood from flayed cuts. A cat o’ nine whip with lead barbs hung from the hand of Seven. If Stacey didn’t know better, she’d swear the seventh brother had an erection behind his zipper, like the guy got off on the pain of others.

“Since Mick won’t open up to save himself, perhaps he will to save you.” Osiris sneered. “Restrain her,” he ordered Hawk and Scotty.

Stacey knew they hated it, but Hawk and Scotty bound her ankles and wrists to a chair. The strike of the whip cutting Mick’s flesh and his howl of pain brought vomit up her throat. “Stop! What do you want to know, Osiris?”

“I want into his psyche.” Osiris nodded and Seven swung the whip a second time with experienced accuracy. Mick cried out again.

Stacey scrambled to buy Mick time. “He can’t drop his shields even if he wanted to.”

Grasping her fingers, Osiris bent them back straining the knuckles to the point of dislocation. “Why can’t he?” he hissed, an inch from her face.

“Compulsion,” she gritted out. The pressure released slightly. “The healers couldn’t remove your compulsions, so they used counter-compulsions on him.” She had no idea if the shit coming out of her mouth was plausible, but it was all she could come up with. Mick had obviously refused Osiris for a reason, probably to protect Mattie.

Osiris released her hand, curling his fingers around her neck and squeezing. “I will have my researchers look into what you’ve said. If you’re lying, Stacey, I will tear your head off with my bare hands while young Johnny watches.”

She blinked through the haze of oxygen depravation and tried to nod that she understood. He squeezed harder. Stacey head pounded and her lungs burned in her chest. “Have I
earned
your respect now?”

She tried to nod, close to losing consciousness. The pressure disappeared and Stacey gasped for breath through her crushed throat, coughing the sick-sweet scent of Osiris’s breath in her nose. His face was inches from hers as her vision cleared. “What I say, when I say.”

She was tempted to spit in his face but nodded. “Okay.”

“One last question—how did you and Mick produce a child together?”

Herme was wrong … Osiris didn’t know everything. “I don’t know.” She lied. Osiris cuffed her across the face. “I don’t know. Herme is trying to figure it out. He thinks our PH levels match or some shit.” The lies just kept coming.

Her answer seemed to give Osiris something to consider. He waved over Hawk and Scotty. They released her and supported her back into her room. Thankfully, Johnny remained asleep. Kelly’s eyes widened with terror. Stacey could have sworn she saw tears in the males’ eyes as they gently tucked her into the empty palette before silently exiting the room.

How long until Osiris learned the truth? Would Conlon be able to find her? They had to get out of here. Kelly carried Johnny over and settled him into her arms. Cuddled with her son, Stacey drifted off as a plan formulated in her mind. The fact that Osiris had brought her to an
iceberg
meant the guy had no idea what Stacey could do.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Conlon paced the shoreline. Sea spray pelted him with the force of the waves. It hadn’t taken long to find the dock or deduce what had happened from there. He and Sargon had even tried to fly further south over the ocean but had been forced back by wind and cold within an hour. Forced to wait for Greyton and the Aquaties to catch up, his mind played every horrible scenario possible in gory detail.

When Aquaties started out of the water, relief flooded him … until he took a good look at them. Sargon stepped forward to address the apparent leaders while over a hundred Aquatie warriors surrounded their small group.

“I am Sargon, the SOSC Volaticus warrior leader to western North America.” Sargon extended his hand to the male in greeting.

The paired siblings faced Sargon with hostile expressions. Completely naked, the evidence of old battle scars marred otherwise perfect skin. Neither shook Sargon’s hand.

To Conlon’s surprise the female responded to Sargon. Like her paired sibling, her hair was a deep moss green with eyes a shade lighter. “Our allegiance is to our school, not to the SOSC. You flew into our territory a few minutes ago. We are here to give warning. That will not be tolerated.” Her eyes graced Conlon pointedly.

“The sky is our undisputed habitat. At no time did we break the surface of the sea,” Sargon defended.