Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat) (19 page)

She heard the back door open and muffled voices. Damn it. She could not risk discovery, not by someone who knew all her secrets. With a frustrated curse, she unfolded her wings and stepped away from the building. She jumped into the air and propelled herself straight up, thankful for the cloud cover.

Flapping her wings as hard and as fast as she could, she left the sanctuary far behind. This was a complication she didn’t need. Now she would have to find a way of snatching Devon without being seen by Payne. Had the cougars called him in because of his connection to her? No. Payne believed she was dead. There was nothing to connect the person Payne knew with the person who’d abducted the human doctor. This was an unfortunate coincidence, nothing more.

Zophiel’s emotions were still in turmoil as she landed in the park adjacent to the house she shared with Nehema. Pausing long enough to absorb her wings, Zophiel strode across the grass and headed straight for the front door. The door was locked, so Zophiel rang the bell, annoyed by Nehema’s paranoia.

Nehema pulled open the door, her expression tense and troubled. “Where did you go? That woman has been wailing nonstop since you left.”

“She’s gagged and the basement is insulated. How much noise can she make?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Well, we’ve got a bigger problem than Carly Ides. Payne is at the sanctuary.”

“Payne?” Confusion creased Nehema’s brow for a moment then her eyes widened and her lips formed a perfect O. “That’s not possible. Is it? It’s been much too long.”

“I can’t explain how, but it was him.”

Nehema shook her head and shoved both hands into the pockets of her fluffy blue robe. With her feet encased in matching slippers and her graying hair in disarray, Nehema looked every inch the suburban grandmother, not the driving force behind a paramilitary campaign intent on the destruction of Therian males. Zophiel was sick of the suburban grandmother. All the hand-wringing and continual complaints made Zophiel restless and edgy. If she couldn’t find a way to reenergize her sister’s ruthless huntress, it might be time to consider a separation.

“If it was really Payne, we need to leave the state,” Nehema concluded. “Maybe go back to Canada for a while. Things are completely out of control.”

“Not a chance.” Zophiel tossed her long silver braid over her shoulder and grinned. “Things are just getting interesting.”

Fear darkened Nehema’s green eyes, making them appear almost brown. “I don’t think I can go through it again. The last time you gave in to your dark side, it cost us both dearly. I know you can’t change who you are, but you don’t have to be controlled by
his
impulses.”

“Go ahead. Say it.” She narrowed her gaze as she slowly crossed the room. “I don’t have to act like a demon just because I was sired by one.”

Nehema licked her lips and began a subtle retreat. “We both have something dark inside us. I fight my animal nature every hour of every day. I know you can find the strength to do the same.”

“But that’s the difference between you and me. I don’t want to fight my ‘dark side’. I embrace it and allow it to empower me.”

“It’s sinful. It’s evil.” Nehema began her familiar tirade. “Each time you abandon yourself to that darkness a piece of your true self dies.”

“But what if the darkness is my true self? After all, I have a Therian nature from our mother as well as my father’s demonic legacy. It’s simple mathematics. I’m more evil than good.”

The color drained from Nehema’s face and she pressed her hand against her throat. “Don’t say such things. They’re blasphemous. Mother was innocent. She was brutalized by a being from the pit of hell and she—”

“That’s your story, not hers. She was
seduced
by a demon. That much is irrefutable, but he didn’t brutalize her. In fact she sneaked away to be with him several times before I was conceived.”

Nehema put her hands over her ears and shook her head. “I will not listen to these lies. Mother was blinded by his evil magic. She didn’t realize she’d been deceived until it was too late.”

This was an old argument, one that no longer held any appeal for Zophiel. “Believe what you like. I know the truth. Denying my demonic nature is as pointless as you denying you’re Therian.”

“I am not Therian.” Nehema suddenly straightened and indignation brightened her eyes. “I have never intentionally transformed, therefore I am still human.”

Zophiel rubbed the back of her neck. She’d heard the denial so often she should be used to it, but annoyance turned to irritation and finally cold determination spread through her entire body. “Humans don’t live for a hundred and seventy-five years.”

Nehema’s chin came up and she glared at Zophiel. “Perhaps my life has been expanded until I accomplish my goal. I have never been this close before. Once the backers determine how transformation occurs, the genetic mutation can be reversed. The curse will be broken and future generations will be free to live as they were meant to live.”

“There are two gaping holes in your objective.” She held up her index finger. “One, Therians don’t want to be ‘cured’ and two,” she held up her middle finger, “the backers want to control transformation, not suppress it.”

“At some point they will have to suppress it.” Nehema tossed her head, sending her hair cascading over her shoulders. She hadn’t looked this animated in months. Zophiel should have provoked her sooner. “Any weapon is most effective when you have exclusive control over it.”

“Have you really thought about what that means?” She paused, hoping her sister would accept the inevitable conclusion. When Nehema’s expression remained defiant, Zophiel spelled it out. “At some point the backers will take control of
you
.”

“I’m not Therian! I am no threat to them.”

Zophiel grabbed Nehema’s upper arm and dragged her into the kitchen. “I think it’s time you find out a little more about your precious backers. Milliner and Osric have convinced you that their goals are not that different from yours, but you’ve been deceived.”

“I’m not stupid.” Nehema tugged against her hold, but Zophiel was stronger. “I know what they’re trying to accomplish and I’ll only allow things to progress so far. Once they’ve unlocked the genetic strain that controls transformation, I’ll take control of the project.”

“You’re a fool. They’ve been able to control transformation for years.” Zophiel unlocked the basement door then headed down the stairs, dragging Nehema behind her. Carly came alive as soon as she saw the sisters. The doctor tugged against her bonds and begged to be released. At least that’s what Zophiel presumed she was saying. Carly’s words were hopelessly garbled by the gag.

She’ll blame it all on the backers, but my research is clear. Carly Ides was not only the driving force behind many of their advancements, she was their willing spy
.

Nehema glared at her but didn’t reply.

Positioning Nehema directly in front of Carly, Zophiel finally let her sister go. Nehema glanced toward the stairs then heaved a sigh and turned back to the human. “Remove her gag, so I can question her.”

Zophiel moved behind Carly and loosened the gag. “Answer her questions truthfully or we’ll pick up where I left off.”

“I told you everything you wanted to know. You promised to release me. Why am I still your prisoner?”

Nehema ignored the human’s outburst and began her interrogation. “Can the backers control a Therian’s ability to shift?”

After a frustrated sigh, Carly said, “It depends on what you mean by control. They can trigger the change or prevent the transformation from being reversed, but they have no influence over what form is manifested.”

“Can they enable a human to shift?”

Carly shook her head. “Not yet. Therians are a separate species. The genetic differences are still vast.”

They’d be here all night if she waited for Nehema to ask the right questions. “Tell my sister about the gen three serum.”

Nehema paused for another glare then looked back at the doctor, expectation clear in her expression.

“We realized the gen two formula had triggered the acquisition phase of Devon’s cycle, but the effects wore off as soon as she—”

“Acquisition phase?” Nehema looked at Zophiel and asked, “What is she talking about?”

“They’ve identified two separate biological cycles that result in the same symptoms. Therians think it’s all reproductive heat, but when a female is undefined, what actually takes place in her body is very different. Rather than trying to attract the best father for her children, a latent female is trying to locate the strongest nature to incorporate into her own being.”

“What does this have to do with Devon?”

Rather than allow the human to ramble through endless medical terms, Zophiel cut to the heart of the matter. “If gen three works the way it’s supposed to, Devon will be able to absorb as many animal natures as she wants. She’ll remain in acquisition mode until she’s given the counteragent to the gen three serum.”

“They’ve
created
an Omni Prime?” Nehema finally sounded appropriately shocked. Her hand pressed over her mouth as she glanced into the distance.

“The formula was given to eleven undefined females. Devon was the only one who survived.” The warning in Carly’s tone was unmistakable. “The formula is still extremely volatile.”

Zophiel looked from Nehema to Carly and back. The Omni Prime had never seemed real to Nehema or Zophiel. There were even whispers that the famed power resided in their bloodline. They’d heard stories of past glory and undeveloped potential, but gossip was easily dismissed when there was no actual evidence to back up the claims.

Had these foolish humans stumbled upon a way to unlock the legendary power?

Dragging her gaze back to Carly, Nehema asked, “Where is this counteragent?”

Of course that would be Nehema’s first question. She skimmed right over the incredible possibilities and wanted to shut it down. Zophiel wanted to shake her. How could anyone be so myopic?

“The cats have it,” Carly told Nehema. “They just don’t know what they have.”

“The cats confiscated all sorts of things from the mountain lab,” Zophiel clarified. “If they haven’t destroyed it all, it’s possible that they’ll eventually figure it out.”

“Unlikely.” Carly shook her head. “Even if they find the compound, they’ll have no way of knowing what it does.”

“They have your laptop.” Zophiel moved around to the side so she could see both Carly’s and Nehema’s faces. “Didn’t you detail your progress in some way?”

“Yes, but unless they have access to a geneticist, my notes won’t mean much to them.”

“You’d be surprised what Therians have access to.” Zophiel spotted a spark of guilt in Carly’s eyes half a second before the human’s features iced over. Rather than belabor the topic, Zophiel moved on. “Now tell my sister about the breeding program.”

Carly stared straight ahead, hands clenching as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Talk.” Zophiel transformed her index finger into a small, thin blade. Then she rotated her hand, reflecting light into the human’s eyes.

“The gen two serum makes Therian females responsive to males,” Carly began without relaxing her pose.

“Let me translate that for you,” Zophiel moved closer to her sister. “The serum makes both parties so desperate for sex they’ll do anything to get it. It also spikes hormones and increases the release of eggs and the production of sperm. Basically it makes it almost certain that the female will conceive.”

“What percentage of females, under the influence of this serum, conceive?” Nehema’s voice remained even, almost emotionless, but already Zophiel saw fury smoldering in her sister’s eyes. Nehema had dedicated her life to protecting the innocent. And worse, she’d believed Osric and Milliner’s lies, making her appear foolish and naive.

“I only had access to statistics for the mountain lab and many of the females were transferred immediately after…being given access to the male.”

“What was the percentage for the mountain lab?” Nehema persisted.

“Eighty-seven percent conceived.”

“That’s where the fun begins,” Zophiel suppressed a smile. She was tired of being alone in the darkness. Nehema could be unbelievably ruthless when she felt that a cause justified her actions. So Zophiel would simply reestablish Nehema’s cause. “Humans take too long to produce offspring, so Carly found a way to shorten the wait.”

“I was following established protocols,” Carly insisted, fear finally registering on her face. “I didn’t develop the breeding program.”

“What were the established protocols? How was the wait shortened?”

Carly licked her lips, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. “By locking the female in her animal form, gestation times were cut in half.”

Each word Carly spoke drew Nehema’s savage nature closer to the surface. Zophiel could sense the raw energy pulsing from her sister.

“And it doesn’t end when the children are born.” Zophiel knew she was adding fuel to the fire and anticipation was making her giddy. She moved back behind Carly, drawing her sister’s focus to the worthless human. “They keep the helpless children trapped in animal form too. Animals mature much faster than humans and the backers can’t wait around for decades while their slaves grow up.”