Authors: Alianne Donnelly
Aiden strained to loosen his vocal cords, and managed a
small growl.
Desiree didn’t hear it. In a businesslike tone, she said,
“You’ve been injected with convert venom. Don’t try to fight it; it only makes
the effects worse. When you…finish, it will start wearing off.”
She uncovered one bucket, and Aiden scented cool, clean
water. The other had artificial things—plastics and rubber.
Stop,
he
tried to say, twitching his tongue to form the word, but he had precious little
breath and his jaw felt welded shut.
Don’t do it. Please!
Desiree sighed. “Here we go.”
No, no, NO!
Aiden’s vision hazed with red when she undid his pants. It
was all very efficient, clinical—pop went the button, down slid the zipper, out
came his dick. His breathing turned ragged, his heart pumped so hard, and he
sweat as if his body tried to rid itself of the venom through his skin. It
didn’t work.
“I’ll try to make this quick,” the witch said. But before
she got to work, she hesitated, reached up and closed his eyes.
Robbed of sight, Aiden almost lost his mind. His body
quivered against the strain of denied movement, snapping muscle fibers one by
one. The damage repaired itself even as his tissue burned, creating more.
There were sounds all around, small, delicate ones he
couldn’t decipher, and it scared the shit out of him, the not seeing, not
knowing. Everything echoed in his mind, always circling back to what was
happening, always keeping him in the present.
Then came the first touch, a steadying hand to keep his dick
still while she inserted a catheter. “This might hurt a little,” she warned.
“I’m sorry.” She pressed down hard against the underside where it met the
scrotum, and an agonizing convulsion overtook Aiden, forcing semen from his
body in endless contractions.
He lost his breath; his heart stuttered and stopped for so
long, he thought it wouldn’t start up again. Fire snaked through his muscles,
and an explosion of sparks seared his brain, obliterating all thought, leaving
him empty of everything but pain.
It felt like his whole spine was being ripped out through
that tube, and all he could do was lie there. His throat worked to scream, but
no sound came out. His eyes wouldn’t water, his hands wouldn’t clench. On the
outside, he was good as dead. But inside, every nerve ending screeched in
endless agony.
And through the deafening roar of blood pounding in his
ears, he heard the witch’s quiet litany: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me…”
He had no idea how long it lasted. At some point, Aiden’s
mind couldn’t take anymore and shut down, catapulting him through a strange
waking dream of psychedelic colors. He couldn’t make sense of anything—there
was pain, but there wasn’t. Light danced before his eyes, but then it was gone.
He knew he was lying on hard stone but, for a while, it cushioned him like
ocean waves, rocking him between bone-grinding agony and mindless oblivion.
By the time he drifted back to consciousness and registered
the cool dampness against his skin, the cell was dark and empty. He was alone,
limbs slowly waking from their paralysis. The cold water bucket sat by his
hand, a wet cloth pressed to his groin.
Aiden bit back a moan, refusing to let them hear. Shaking, he
turned onto his side and curled in on himself, waiting for the end to come.
Keep walking, Desiree. One foot in front of the other.
Get up there—and don’t you shake like that! Step. That’s it. Another one. Good.
Keep going. Almost to the top.
The light is right in front of you, you just have to get
to it and you’re home free.
Stop. Shaking!
Walk. Breathe. Walk. There’s the exit. You’re almost to
the light.
Take a breath.
Take a—
Oh, my God…
~
Desiree shoved the bucket at Arik and turned away as her
stomach heaved. All of it came out: pain, misery, anger, fear, and any hope of
ever calling herself a decent human being all purged out of her, leaving her
hollow and so damned cold.
She couldn’t stop shaking.
Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Dare’s loud,
nasty laugh.
“Shut the fuck up and make yourself useful,” Arik snapped.
The bucket clattered to the ground. “Fuck naw, I’m not
touching that shit!”
Arik didn’t address it. He grasped Desiree’s shoulders and
righted her, searching her gaze—for what, she didn’t know. She was empty, numb.
Arik shook her. “Come on, now, girl. Stay with me.”
She scoffed. “Like I can ever go anywhere else.”
Arik’s mouth twisted. He wrapped an arm around her to keep
her upright, ordered Dare to get the bucket, and walked her to the lab. Of
course. No time to curl up in a ball and pretend the world didn’t exist. She
wasn’t finished yet.
Desiree’s stomach roiled again but there was nothing left
for her to throw up. She clutched Arik with clammy hands, and let him lead her
wherever. It didn’t matter anymore.
Bright light suddenly dimmed as they went indoors. “Put it
down and get out,” Arik said to Dare. “We’re gonna have a nice long talk
later.”
“Yessir!” Dare mocked, and dropped the bucket.
“Asshole,” Arik muttered. He led Desiree to the hearth and
stoked up the fire. “How are you doing over there, huh?”
Desiree blinked. Oh, he was talking to her. “Fine,” she
said.
A blanket settled around her shoulders. “Here, drink this.”
Desiree took a gulp and almost choked on the searing heat of
raw, homemade whiskey sliding down her unprepared throat. She coughed, gasped,
and shoved the bottle back at Arik. “That was uncalled for.”
“Look at me.”
She did.
“That’s better. You okay?”
Desiree shook her head, eyes burning with unshed tears.
“No.”
“Whoa, take it easy now. You’ll be all right. You did what
you had to do, right?”
“Did I?” Arik opened his mouth to respond, but Desiree shook
her head. “It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. You know what really
happened down there? Klaus won. Like he always does. The devil over my
shoulder, forcing my hand. Only he didn’t. He taught me so well, I did it all
by myself. He finally got what he’d always wanted.”
“What’s that?”
“My soul.”
Arik snorted, disguising the sound by clearing his throat.
But his humor was stronger than his self-control, and he burst out laughing.
“What the hell is so funny?” she demanded.
“You!” he said between bouts of laughter. “
Gaarrgh, the
devil got my soul. Damn his evil hide.
”
“Stop it.” A thread of anger laced her voice. “You have no
idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Seems to me like the Wolfen got one off for free.
I’m supposed to feel sorry for him?”
Desiree reached for the bucket, hand much steadier than it was
a moment ago. She removed the lid and took out a stoppered 250ml beaker filled
to 200ml with Alpha’s semen, tainted dark with blood. She held it up for Arik
to see. “Does this look like fun to you?”
His laughter died, and he turned pale, bordering on green.
“What the fuck?”
“Can we dispense with the jokes now?”
Arik gulped and nodded. “ZX-127…what is it?”
“Convert venom. It’s what they use to force mates to be
fertile. In females, it induces instant ovulation. In males…this. There is a
paralytic component that keeps their prey from fighting back while
they’re…used, and in some cases, eaten. Klaus has been studying it on a
molecular level for years. It’s never actually been tested as an injection
before.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
“Will he heal?”
She’d distilled a full dose to use on Alpha, and it had
worked exactly as Klaus had predicted, maximizing sperm production to the point
of physical damage, which usually made the venom a one-shot deal for human
prey. But Alpha wasn’t human. “Wolfen can regenerate and heal fully, given
enough time.”
“Which means, as long as he’s here, Klaus can do this to him
over and over again.”
“Except, it won’t be Klaus doing the dirty work.”
The door opened, admitting both light and the great and
powerful Klaus. “Und how is our patient?”
Arik removed himself to the door. “Shaken, but she’ll live,”
he reported. Silly.
“The Wolfen is incapacitated for the moment,” she said, and
handed over the beaker. “The serum worked.”
“Excellent,” Klaus crowed, but his expression was less than satisfied.
“There is an inordinate amount of non-seminal liquid.” Ever the purist.
It’s called blood, you son of a bitch.
“Can it be removed?”
“If we had a centrifuge, sure. Without one, highly doubtful.
The time it would take to attempt it would render the sperm cells useless for
our purposes.” And they didn’t have a freezer to preserve them, either.
After a moment of contemplation, Klaus set the beaker aside.
“Very well. I will have the females prepped for insemination in the morning.”
Desiree nodded. Nothing more she could say.
Klaus watched her for a moment, then stepped closer and laid
an imperious hand on her shoulder. “You did well, Dee. I am proud of you. Why
don’t you go get some rest?”
Desiree squeezed her eyes shut, counting to a thousand and
back, until he got the hell away from her.
The door closed softly, a sinister whisper of malice.
Desiree hadn’t realized she was holding her breath, until it
burst out as a sob. She was shaking again as she shed the blanket and got back
to work. Evil waited for no one.
“He said to give it a rest,” Arik reminded her.
She ignored him. There was equipment to sterilize, crude
turkey basters to prepare, and Wolfen sperm to process.
“Dez?”
Chop, chop, Stumperella, there won’t be any fairytale
woodland creatures coming to clean house for you now.
Arik sighed, helped her clear a worktable, and set out her
instruments, because her hands were too unsteady for the delicate glassware.
She let him do it while she gathered the rest of her non-breakable instruments.
It was busywork for her hands so her mind wouldn’t dwell.
“Can you get me that bucket of distilled water? And the
soap, too. It’s on the shelf over there.”
“Sure,” Arik said. He retrieved both, but paused by the
other table where Klaus had left the beaker. He stared at it, rubbing his chin,
while Desiree stood waiting with her hand outstretched for her tools.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
“Sperm is temperature-sensitive, right?”
“Yeah, raise the temp too high and the cells die off.” She
frowned. “Why?”
Arik nodded and swiped the beaker off of the table. “We got
our orders for the night. The boss said you should get your rest, and I need to
make sure that you do.” He set the beaker down right next to the fire.
“Wouldn’t want to disobey him. I mean, it’s already late, and it’s been a
really long day.
Really
long. Shit goes wrong when you’re that tired.”
He smiled, handing her the water and soap.
Desiree took them, gaze locked on that beaker. Already the
low heat of the fire was starting to affect its contents, forcing the blood and
seminal fluid apart. Left that way long enough, the unique chemistry of Alpha’s
Wolfen blood would cause it to sink to the bottom—a clean separation from the
dead sperm.
Exactly what Klaus had wanted, just not the way he’d wanted
it.
“Arik?” she said distractedly.
“Yeah?”
“Have I told you lately that you’re a genius?”
He gave a modest shrug. “I have my moments.”
But it wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing ever was. “If Klaus
finds out about this…”
“Best not to stick around that long. Don’t you think?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to leave
tonight
?”
“It’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”
Desiree shook her head. “This isn’t something we can do
half-assed. We have to wait until morning.”
“Are you insane? Walk out in broad daylight? And how do you
propose we keep Klaus off our backs once he wakes up?”
“I don’t know!” Too much pressure! She couldn’t think. “This
is too fast; I need more time to plan.” They’d need supplies, and weapons, and some
story to tell in case they were stopped.
A muscle twitched in Arik’s jaw. “Here I thought this was a
done deal.”
“It is—now! But it’s not like I’ve been plotting this all my
life.”
“Oh, I see.” He retrieved the beaker and thunked it down
onto her desk just short of breaking the glassware, then leaned on it to get in
her face. “In that case, it looks like you have more work to do.”
He walked out, leaving her alone with the prospect of what
Klaus expected her to do tomorrow. Desiree sat on the corner of her desk,
feeling a hundred years old. Her thoughts drifted together as she stared at the
beaker, coalescing by slow degrees until they solidified into ironclad
conviction.
I can’t do this.
It would be like Chernobyl all over again, only without the
sterile conditions or a steady supply of chemical compounds. Klaus didn’t want
just a new generation of Wolfen; he wanted a continual breeding program of test
subjects on which he could happily practice his sadistic urges.
He’d left her with no choice. If she went along with it,
she’d be too far gone to say no to anything else; it would all pale in
comparison to this. If she resisted, Klaus would punish her and find a way to
force her hand, even if he had to break it and manipulate it for her.
No, that gave him more power than he deserved. Desiree still
had a choice. It wasn’t easy, but it existed.
She could do this, tell herself there was no other way and
become no better than Klaus, or she could not.
Desiree held the beaker up to the firelight. Already a thin
film of semen had separated at the top. It might be viable at this point.
I choose not.
She replaced the beaker near the fire, shuddering when she
let go. No turning back. The thought that by this time tomorrow, she could be
free forever, made her heart pound and her palms sweat. Looking around her lab,
she made a quick mental list of basic necessities. Then, as casually as she
could, Desiree went around and gathered them all into a bucket. Whenever Arik
came back, she’d tell him where it was so he could grab it, and then they’d
leave, long before Klaus woke up.
Oh my God, this is really happening. I’m getting out of
here!
But Arik didn’t come back. Dare did. “Getting late, Tripod.
Finish up.”
“Where’s Arik?”
“Did you hear what I said?”
He had an ugly twist to his mouth, the way he always did
when his temper was short. Arik must have given him that talking to.
Deciding it was safer not to anger him more, Desiree swept
one last glance around her lab, made sure the supply bucket was out of sight,
and headed out.
Full night had fallen hours ago, and Haven’s streets were
empty except for the guards on patrol. They greeted Dare as they passed,
exchanged macho chitchat and good-natured arm punches, while ignoring Desiree.
In the market, Dare stopped to talk to a pimply teenage boy
he’d decided to take under his wing.
“Yo, Nicky baby, what’s up, man?”
“Come on, dude,” the boy whined, “you know I hate it when
you call me that.”
Dare chuckled and cuffed him, which the boy seemed to
consider a show of affection.
Desiree rolled her eyes and kept going, making her slow way
home.
“Hey, so check this out,” Dare said, lowering his voice.
“You know that thing I keep telling you about?”
At the far edge of the market, torches lined the path to the
baths and the latrines. Guards were supposed to keep them burning through the
night, but someone had been derelict. Half of them had fizzled out, leaving
long stretches of shadows. An eerie sight, and not one Desiree relished, so she
slowed even more, waiting for Dare to catch up.
“Oh,” Nick was saying, “you mean that thing where you think
you can—”
“Will you shut up? Yeah, that thing. And I don’t think it, I
know it. Tonight’s my night, man.”
Great. Who would be the lucky lady of the night? There
weren’t many who hadn’t had a taste of his loving yet. From the snatches of
conversation she’d caught over the years, that taste was usually short and
bitter. But for some, it was better than nothing at all. Desiree happened to
not share that philosophy.
“You’re insane,” Nick said.
Dare slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll see.” Then he
shoved the boy to get on his way and caught up to Desiree. “Move.”As if she’d
been stalling him.
She sighed, and moved. “The torches are out.”
“I noticed,” he said.
“Aren’t you going to light them?”
“What, you scared of the dark, Tripod?”
Answering would just invite more conversation.
Happily, he quieted after that, and Desiree almost forgot he
was there.
Until they reached the baths.
“You look tense.” Dare grabbed her arm. “You should take a
bath to relax.”
“Wha—hey, knock it off!” He yanked her so hard, she almost
fell. She lost her grip on the crutch and it dropped by the cave entrance as
Dare dragged her deeper toward the pools. “Let go of me, asshole!”