Chapter Fourteen

Khal

 

 

“G ods be damned!” Hartlin hurled the stainless-steel tray full of instruments against the wall. He turned toward me, shaking a quivering finger, though he was smart enough not to advance. I might be bound, but if he stepped a little closer, I’d launch myself, and tear that finger from his hand with my teeth. “You have one week, shifter. Then I’ll take care of the issue myself.”

Tina’s head snapped toward him. “Artificial insemination, with her? As the embryo hasn’t taken this round, there’s a chance the subject is faulty. And, even stimulated with hormones, she’ll be past the peak of her ovulation. Do we have another option?”

I was surprised she had the audacity to address him, and more surprised when he answered.
“You’re correct, she may not be viable as a carrier, and even if she is, a mixed-blood embryo won’t grow as quickly as a full shifter, or be as strong. But we do have a small window within which we can harvest her eggs. That way we can fertilize multiples and incubate. The probability of spontaneous abortion is higher in a tube than in a viable female, but what these mutants refuse to give me in quality, I’ll take in quantity. Of course,” he turned back to me, “If the fault lies with you, I’ll have no more use for you than I do for your neutered friend. Though I suppose at least he’s a source of information.”

Lyrie had gone quiet at Tina’s announcement of the negative test, all the fight suddenly seeming to desert her. My focus was on her as Tina attached a bottle of clear fluid to the angled sirdar arm above her, and I almost missed the significance of Hartlin’s last words. Information? What the hells had Spike done?

Hartlin raked a hand through his steel-peppered hair and tapped the bottle swaying over Lyrie, the glass catching the halolights and refracting it from his purple eyes. “Double her hormones. His, as well. To hell with the side effects, we don’t have time to play it careful anymore. We need to show results. Tennant’s back on base in a week, and I’ll be damned if I’ll have him petitioning High Command, insisting that his troops take precedence over the science. Without my research, he can consider his soldiers all dead.”

Tina frowned. “Why? How does Tennant petitioning High Command change anything?”

“They’ll shut the research facility down. Divert the funds so Tennant can take us to a full-scale war. He’s been angling for that for three years, now. Fool doesn’t understand the value of what I’m doing here. He’ll sacrifice the compound, hells, he’ll sacrifice every one of his men, to win a single battle. But we need a longer-term plan than that. If the Aaidarian government get wind of our project and send reinforcements for this lot before we’ve cloned and armed our shifter squad, it won’t matter how superior Tennant believes his numbers to be.”

“You don’t need a plan,” I grated out. “You’re all going to die.” Not at my hands, the way I was trussed. But Herc had Leo and Jag with him. Only three shifters, but they were formidable opponents. And, if I could somehow get a message back to Aaidar, let our government know about the Regime’s illegal gene replication programs that breached the treaty between our nations…First, I needed my own plan, though. I had to get Lyrie out of here. And bound, with two armed guards standing over me, and Hartlin and Tina in the small room, there didn’t seem to be a way. Even if I somehow managed to create a big enough diversion, Lyrie had gone quiet, lying silent on the table, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t assume she’d take the opportunity to escape, as we’d discussed. And I suspected that in any case, she wouldn’t leave without me. She hadn’t been big on taking my orders, to date.

Tina’s eyes flicked to me as she adjusted the drip rate of the tube leading into Lyrie’s arm, but she spoke to Hartlin. “Sacrifice the compound? You think if we go to war, we’ll lose everything we have here?”

Hartlin nodded grimly. “Undoubtedly.”

“But if you had half-breed fetuses, you could at least prove the viability of the project? Then the High Command will direct funds here, to the compound? So we can continue the research?”

“We’re on the brink of war, they’ll have no interest in the research component, any more. But, if we can show them advanced results, we’ll get funding. Half-breeds are a poor second choice, but I can split their DNA and perhaps clone it. Use it to infect our own army, to enhance latent shifter abilities. Maybe.” Hartlin scrubbed both hands over his face. “But what I really need is a pure breed, a quick-grower with the genes of both shifters. Pure genetics, ripe for replication.” He jerked his chin at me. “I want them monitored. No more deals, no more playing house. Throw them in a cell, dose them up, make them copulate twenty-four-seven.” He moved back to the stretcher and stood over Lyrie, his lips drawn back in a snarl more feral than any cat. “I’m out of patience with you, shifter slut. You either perform, or you die.”

Blood ran warm down my ankles as I strained against the nylonium ties, sweat beading my forehead as I urged the shift. I had to kill him. Put an end to his threats. Protect my woman.

As Hartlin strode from the room, Tina’s brow furrowed. She tapped one long fingernail against her lips. “Oh, hells no,” she muttered. “I’ve worked too damn hard for what I have here.”

“You’ve got nothing.” Lyrie’s voice was dull, as though she was the one who suddenly had nothing. “The Resistance are coming for you. All of you.”

Despite the fighting words, she didn’t flinch as Tina swung back to her, one hand raised. “Your pathetic Resistance army? A handful of you escape the compound, and suddenly you think you’re invincible?”

“Now that the shifters have aligned with us, you don’t have a chance.”

The nurse snorted. “You think the shifters are your allies? That mercenaries for hire to the highest bidder will come to your rescue? Let me show you something.” She turned to the guard. “Bring the other one in.”

Spike wasn’t cuffed when the guard brought him in. That was the last bit of evidence I needed. “Fuck, man, what’ve you done?” I groaned.

Spike’s gaze darted to me, but didn’t settle, shifting quickly back to Tina. His movements were agitated, his hand flicking open and closed in a distracted manner, as though teromotan wriggled beneath his skin. “I couldn’t help it, dude, they…”

“Yes, we did, didn’t we?” Tina purred, sidling over to him and running the back of her nails down his face. “You had to choose, didn’t you, kitten? Treat or beat. To be fair,” she ripped open his shirt, the noise tearing through the quiet examination room as she exposed his scarred chest. “He tried beat for a long time before he gave in.”

She stroked her fingers down his abdomen, then pressed close to him.

His eyes glazed, Spike responded mechanically, sliding his hands to her waist, pressing his mouth to her neck.

“Aw, low on the energy there, lover? Need a little help?” Tina’s voice lilted with laughter.

Spike shuddered, his knuckles gleaming white against her tight uniform.

She disentangled herself from his loose grasp and sashayed over to a glass-fronted cabinet containing vials and medicines. Pulled several containers out and placed them on the bench, then pressed her fingertips against a panel at the back of the cupboard. A hidden door sprang open.

Spike stiffened, canting toward her, like a cat scenting prey.

Tina withdrew a bottle and waggled it at him. “C’mon, boy, this is what you want, isn’t it?”

Fuck. The ties on my hands behind the chair held me in place against the weight of my bowed shoulders. Without even seeing the contents, I knew what the bottle held, could tell by the eager inclination of Spike’s body, his sudden attention and staggered steps toward the nurse. Now his blown-out pupils made sense.

Opivana. The most addictive opiate in the galaxy.

The Regime had turned Spike into a junkie, willing to do anything for a fix.

But just what had he done? We couldn’t rely on him to get us through the guards anymore, knowing he might turn us in. Had he divulged the secret of Lyrie’s shifting, or told Hartlin of our plan to escape through the caves? Hells, he’d been digging for information on the Resistance, wanting to know if Leo and Herc had made it there. Had he completely turned traitor?

I jerked in a fast breath, shame stabbing my gut. And, if Spike was a junkie, was Lyrie’s recollection of what had happened in the caves the truth? Had he attacked her?

“Fuck!” I clenched my teeth; the deep scratches on Spike’s face, the day he’d been thrown into my cell. They matched Lyrie’s claws exactly. How had I not seen that?

“Fuck, huh?” Tina smiled my way. “A request already?”

I ignored her, my head pounding. Even with Hartlin gone, all avenues of escape were compromised by Spike’s treason. I had no idea what to do, now.

Not that I could do anything, trussed like a celebratory tugurken.

Tina opened the bottle and took a tiny amount of powder on her fingertip. “Here, boy. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

As Spike jerkily stepped toward her, she reached up, rubbing the powder against his upper gums. His eyes closed and his face relaxed.

She giggled. “Don’t get too laid back there, lover. You have a job to do.”

His hands settled on her hips, and he smiled lazily. “My pleasure.”

“Oh, I intend for it to be mine,” she murmured, arching into him as his hands slid down to her backside. “But hold that thought for a minute.”

She crossed back to the counter, picked up a comm unit and attached it to her ear. Suddenly, her tone was all business as she pressed it and spoke to the invisible contact. “Sounds like Hartlin’s getting cold feet. We need to move to Plan B, right now.” She paused, listening intently. “Yes, positive. Don’t worry, I know exactly how to handle it. I’ll take care of that.”

She dropped the comm unit onto the counter and glanced from Spike to me, licking her lips.

Lyrie struggled up onto her elbow. “Tina, it’s not too late. We’ve seen what Hartlin’s like, you can say he forced you—”

Tina scoffed, the sneer slicing her pretty face. “Hartlin? Oh, you are climbing the wrong tree, little bobcat. He’s not the one you need to worry about.” She swiftly unhooked the bottle of fluid. “In fact, you don’t need to worry about anything, for a while. Time for you to go night-night.” She picked up a syringe from among the items that had crashed to the floor beneath Hartlin’s fury, flicked the cylinder with practiced ease, then plunged it into Lyrie’s arm without bothering to swab the site.

Lyrie’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she went limp. My muscles screamed as I strained against the nylonium ties binding me to the chair, my wrist dislocating, the sinews tearing apart.

“Don’t fuss so,” Tina eyed me as she tossed aside the syringe. “It’s only a light sedative. I don’t object to an audience, but I don’t want her throwing you boys off your stride. You and you,” she clicked her fingers at the guards. “Outside. Now.”

“How about I stay in here. This one—” the larger guard indicated me with the butt of his Teyraus. “He’s trouble. You need to watch out for him.”

“More like you want to watch, I’d say.” Tina flicked her hand at him. “Off you go. I know how to handle the big boys.” She waited until the door shut behind the guard. Then a hungry smile curved her lips, and she prowled toward me. Stopping only inches away, her strong perfume slapped my face. She angled her hips forward, then slid her hands up her thighs, disappearing beneath her short skirt. Her thumbs hooked in her panties, she shimmied out of them, turning away from me to bend over and retrieve the scrap of fabric from the floor. Making certain I got a good view of her naked ass.

Then she sauntered toward Spike and pressed up against him, her arms around his neck.

He responded instantly, his hands sliding down to hike her dress up as he kissed her, his fingers exploring her buttocks, driving into the cleft between her legs.

I grunted in disgust, trying to look beyond them, to where Lyrie lay on the steel table they leaned against. Tina looked around at my noise, and shook her head. “Ah, ah, no you don’t. You need to be paying attention over here.”

Spike had backed up so he was half perched on the examination table, and he cupped Tina’s buttocks, pulling her up into his lap. She spread her legs to straddle him, but twisted to watch me. “This is for you, tiger. To get you in the mood.”

“What are you talking about?” I fixed my gaze on the ceiling.

Tina untangled herself from Spike and padded back over to me. She grabbed my chin between her forefinger and thumb. “I said, watch.”

“What the hell for?”

“Becka, come back,” Spike slurred, pushing himself upright.

Becka? Damned Opivana.

Tina made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. “It’s insulting when they don’t even get the name right.” She scowled at me. “You watch, or your girlfriend pays.”

“Whatever.” I’d known she was into kinky stuff, but what the hell she was playing at, I couldn’t fathom. But I didn’t much care, as long as she took her time about it. Bound behind me, I tensed and relaxed my forearms, trying to work the nylonium ties over the floppy disjointedness of my wrist, as I assessed the room and replayed in my mind what I’d seen of the layout of the compound. I needed to get free, dispose of Tina, grab Lyrie and somehow get past at least two guards at the door. Before the black spots that swirled across my vision at each grind of bone-on-bone formed a complete blanket of darkness.

The other option was to bide my time. Hartlin said we had a week. That was a week of potential opportunities.

But I didn’t like the fact that Lyrie lay so still. Nor what I’d heard of Tina’s conversation with the unknown third party on the comm. Hartlin’s plan clear, it seemed the nurse had something else going on, and I suspected that no part of it was intended to help Lyrie and me. Nor did it sound like she’d give us the week’s grace.

She had Spike’s pants undone, now, and dropped to her knees before him, turning to one side so she could watch me. Making sure I was watching her. Her tongue out, she licked at Spike’s rigid cock. Looked at me. “You watch, or I’ll accidentally slip next time, and your woman will get a lethal dose of sedative.”

She opened her mouth wider, taking the tip of Spike’s cock in, sucking on it.

He quivered, wrapping his fist in her hair. “Oh, yeah, go to it, baby.”

A flash of annoyance crossed her face, and she slapped his hand away. “Shut up, you useless piece of meat.”

Vague hurt flashed across Spike’s face, and his glance briefly met mine. For a moment, he looked puzzled, but then Tina bobbed down, the veins in her neck cording as she took the full length of him deep into her throat. “Oh, yeah, Becka, you know how I like it,” he groaned, tipping his head back with his eyes shut.

I shuffled my feet to hide the sound of the blood dripping from my wrists onto the sirdar floor, but the noise of Tina’s choking and slurping filled the room.

Camouflaged by their rutting sounds, I rocked my chair back against the wall, trying to use my weight to unbalance it and snap one of the steel legs free. At least that way, hands still tied behind my back, I’d have a weapon.

Gods be damned! A cat-shifter, my weapons should always be available at my summoning. Fangs and teeth, I was a match for any man.

But it seemed I would somehow have to both find my freedom and fight, as a man, if I was to save my bondmate.

Tina slapped her hands-on Spike’s thighs and pushed herself upright, still on her knees, dashing the back of her hand across her mouth and smearing her lipstick.

Spike reached for her, but she put out a hand to stay him. “Wait.” She cut her eyes at me. “Have you been watching? Are you getting turned on yet, tiger?” She wrapped her hand around Spike’s cock, pumping slowly. Her gaze drifted to my groin, but there was sure as hell nothing going on down there. She pouted and stood, whirling back to Spike. “Sit there.” She pointed at a chair opposite mine.

Dutifully he shuffled across to it, his pants hanging open.

Facing me, Tina hitched her dress up around her waist and straddled his lap. Reached beneath herself to position his cock at the entrance to her pussy. “Would you like to be doing this to me, tiger?” she breathed.

“Becka, give it to me,” Spike groaned behind her.

Gods, as if it wasn’t perverted enough being forced to watch them, he had to call for my dead girlfriend?

Tina grasped his cock in a chokehold, her lips parted in a gasp as she stroked the head along her glistening slit. “Oh, yeah, tiger. Come on. Get into it. I want to feel you fuck me.” She sank an inch, letting Spike slide into her.

“I will, Becka, I will.” Spike jerked his hips up, trying to penetrate her further.

Annoyance flashed across Tina’s face and she twisted to glare at him. “I need a cat to fuck a baby into me, and you’ve proved you’re a no-good junkie. But this one,” she turned back to me, her fingers sliding across her clit, stimulating herself as she watched me, “This one I’m not going to screw up by giving moodar and shit. You’ll do me because you want to, right, tiger? Without those drugs, you’re going to pump a baby right into me.”

“Yeah, Becka, we can do it again,” Spike gasped, his fingers digging into her waist as he surged beneath her.

“For god’s sakes, not you!” She snarled. “You’re damn useless. No kind of a man.”

His thrusting stilled, his eyes briefly focused, though his forehead creased in puzzlement. “That’s not true. I’ll put another baby in you. I can.” His roving gaze caught me. “Khal? What’re you doing here, man? Tell her I can do it.”

I shook my head. I’d known him most my life, and he’d never had a long-term relationship, never mind a kid. He just didn’t work that way. Though, in light of his betrayal, how well did I really know him? “Get a grip, dude. She’s using you.”

Spike struggled up. “No. She loves me. Not you. Me.” As he stood, displacing Tina from his lap, she stumbled and he darted a hand out, catching her. She whirled furiously on him, and he staggered back, confusion written across his face. “Becka?”

“Goddamn junkie,” Tina snarled. “That fix wears off faster and faster.”

He swung back to me, shaking his head. “What’s going on? Where’s Becka?”

Hells, he was wrecked. The damned Opivana had fried him. Yet I couldn’t prevent my surge of sympathy; even off his face, his love for Becka never faltered. I’d been an idiot not to see how deep it ran. He should have been the one with her, they would— suddenly his words made a horrible kind of sense, a sick feeling twisted at my gut.

Becka had been trying to break up with me, even though she carried our child. Which had never been logical, except… “Becka’s gone, dude. Remember?”

His amber eyes turned glassy, but it was the sheen of tears, not opiates. He shook his head slowly. “No, she’s not gone, bro. She’s breaking up with you. Not gone. Not from me. I’m sorry, man, I wanted to tell you. Should have told you before it went too far. But Becka and me—we’re gonna be a family.”

Tina had crossed swiftly to the cabinet, taking the small bottle out again. As she moved back to Spike, powdering her finger, he frowned. “What the hell?”

I recognized his moment of clarity, the sweet spot between when the narcotic effects of the drug had cleared, and when he’d desperately need another fix. “Spike, listen to me. Remember where we are? Becka’s gone. We’re on Glia. The team, Spike, remember?”

“Enough,” Tina snarled, offering her finger to him.

He snatched at her wrist, holding her away, frowning between us. “Tina.” He looked relieved. “I remember. You’re my woman.”

“Like hells,” she spat, trying to wrench her fist free.

“Spike, she’s with the Regime. With Smithton.” Damn it, I needed to shift, get us all out of here while the guards were absent.

Spike’s gaze roved the room until it fell on the too-still form lying on the table. “Lyrie. Your bondmate, right?”

I could see the pieces slowly falling into place, though he still looked dazed. “She is. Spike, you have to—”

Tina tried to stretch her finger toward him again. “Here, lover, take another fix. You know you want it. And you want me, right?”

He smiled, starting to nod, then seemed to notice his pants still hanging open and Tina’s dress rucked up around her waist. “What the hell? Why are we—?”

“It’s part of the program, Spike,” I tried to keep my voice low, not wanting to alert the guards, but dammit, if Tina got that finger any closer to his mouth, we were done for. “The forced breeding program. She wants me to impregnate her.”

He shook his head, his eyes suddenly clear. “No!” He released Tina’s wrist. “You can’t. He’s bonded to Lyrie.”

As he said her name, Lyrie moaned, shifting her legs restlessly on the metal stretcher, and my heart clenched. Better she stay quiet and not draw this mad woman’s attention.

Tina lifted one narrow shoulder. “Why should I care about your inbred notions?”

“You’ll kill him,” Spike said.

She paused. “Before he’s finished fucking me?”

Spike shook his head, and his chin hit his chest as though he was suddenly exhausted and couldn’t hold it up anymore. “Broken heart. Slow.”

Crossing to the med lab bench, Tina snorted. “Well, providing he’s done his job, it’ll be much better for me with all of you gone.”

About to scoff at Spike’s melodramatic choice of words, I realized he was talking about himself. Fuck. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to find words. “Becka. She was yours, wasn’t she, bro?”

Spike nodded, the anguish of years in his eyes. “When we realized, it was too late. We got carried away, she got pregnant, and we couldn’t work out how to tell you. She said she’d rather die than hurt you. But she didn’t mean it. She couldn’t leave me, anymore than I could leave her.”

Rather die.

Becka had grabbed the skimmer control, wrenching it sideways. But she hadn’t meant to die, hadn’t meant to kill her baby. Spike’s baby.

Spike raked both hands through his hair. “I blamed you, man. I know it was wrong, but it hurt so bad, I blamed you.”

Tina stepped forward, handing Spike the Opivana bottle. A dose one hundredth of that size would be lethal. “Do yourself a favor.”

He stared at it dumbly.

Lyrie mumbled something, turning to face Tina. Her eyes slightly open, she frowned.

Tina glanced at her, then strode across to me, wielding a syringe.

“What are you doing?” Spike had the bottle unscrewed, but didn’t seem to realize he’d done it.

“Well, you seem to have rather spoiled the mood, and I think you’ve screwed up any chance for me and your friend to have a meaningful relationship, now. So, I’ll just be taking what I need,” Tina said. “I’d rather have had a good fuck, but I’ll settle for extracting his semen and using a turgurken baster. Less fun, but easier than listening to the pair of you reminisce.” She jerked her head at the bottle he clutched. “Soon as I’m done, I suggest you split that with your comrade. I can assure you, it’ll be a much nicer way to go than what Hartlin will do once I tell him neither of you are needed.”

As she held the syringe poised like a dagger, ready to plunge into my groin, Spike surged into action. “Don’t touch him, you bitch!”

Tina whirled toward him, her reaction instinctive as he grabbed for her. The long, sharp needle plunged into his chest.

Into his lungs.

Spike crashed to the ground, landing on his knees alongside me. He stared in stupefied surprise at the bright crimson blossom staining the rags of his shirt.

“Stop the bleeding. He’ll regenerate,” I snapped at Tina.

“Why bother? More Opivana for you, this way.”

Spike’s teeth stained red, he grit them together, his words jerky and disconnected. “Khal. Man. I’m sorry. It was never your fault.” Blood bubbled and foamed from his mouth, and he took a ragged breath.

“Spike, hang in there!” Unable to move to help him, I leaned as close as I could.

“I didn’t tell them, bro,” he gasped out. “I didn’t tell them…” The hazel light was fading from his eyes, but he clutched the front of my shirt.

“Tell them what?” Gods, he was dying, he was dying right before my eyes, and I couldn’t move a damn muscle.

“That she’s a…griffin.”

Lyrie slowly pushed herself up on one elbow, but I shook my head, signaling with my eyes for her to remain still. Tina didn’t seem to notice, turning to the med table and pulling her dress into place as Spike’s gasp rattled around the room and he slumped to the floor at my feet. “One down, three to go.”

Three?

She fiddled among the equipment on her table, selecting a syringe and a long, curved surgical knife, and moved across to Lyrie. “Question is, do I deal with both of these issues now, or just the one?”

As I growled, Lyrie moaned, and Tina laughed. “Oh, I suppose it’d be far too obvious if I disposed of your woman, wouldn’t it? But I will take care of my immediate competition. I can provide everything the Regime wants, they don’t need that spawn she hides in her belly.”

Pregnant. Tina had lied. Lyrie was pregnant.

As Tina held the syringe over Lyrie’s unprotected abdomen—over our baby—the shift ripped through me, more painful than it’d ever been. The nylonium binding my wrists and ankles exploded apart, the chair splintering as I surged up and kicked it across the room. The claws gouged from my fingers, my muscles screaming as my bones broke and reformed.

One bound took me over my fallen comrade, across the room and to Lyrie’s side. Crouched over my mates’ wide-eyed form, I snarled at Tina.

She staggered back a pace, but her glance moved beyond me, alarm flaring.

Spike clambered to his feet. With determination solidifying in his expression, he leapt toward Tina, taking her down to the floor with a crash.