Clink. Clink. Scuff. Clink. The chain rattled a discordant song every time Tomas moved, a reminder of his status. A prisoner.

How degrading. Didn’t they respect who he was? What he was…

Of course not, or they would have never dared to capture him in the first place.

It made him thirsty.

For blood.

Actually, he craved a fine bottle of wine, but that didn’t mean he’d disregard the blood thing. There was always a need to spill more blood. Fresh and hot was best.

Damn, I’m hungry. Tomas had grown a tad gaunt during his stay. He didn’t get much meat here. He didn’t get much to eat at all. The spartan existence proved rather refreshing. Relaxing.

With only a cursory curiosity, Tomas wondered what day it was. He could never be entirely sure. The drugs they pumped into his system sometimes put him under for days. He’d not rested so well in years.

Lots of sleep, though, meant he needed to catch up when he woke. He learned not to choke the technicians drawing his blood too long, else they had difficulties answering.

Like it was his fault they were so fragile.

The humans who worked here kept him full of drugs, lots of drugs, because when Tomas wasn’t sleeping, he tended to get frisky. And when he got frisky, people sometimes died. Usually screaming, in a puddle of warm blood.

Tasty for him, not so much for them.

Humans were so slow and easily scared. Not really much of an opponent for someone like Tomas. What made them dangerous was they didn’t fight fair.

The cowards kept Tomas in a stoned stupor because they knew he could demolish them. In that, they respected his superiority.

Because I am great. It was why the universe revolved around him.

The silly humans might think Tomas chained and a prisoner, but the truth was, Tomas bided his time. He knew his value. Knew they wouldn’t kill him. Not yet.

Those in the secret lab they kept him in wanted something from Tomas. However, he’d yet to figure out what. What did they steal from him while he slept? And why?

He should note that, while it was mostly humans working in this hidden lab, the one in charge of it all—the man Tomas would delight in tearing limb from limb and then roasting with some fine herbs for dinner later—was anything but human.

Theodore Parker ran this secret lab. He was the boss. A werewolf shifter by birth, a businessman in pharmaceuticals, Mr. Theodore Parker had branched out into medical experimentation, assassination, and basic grandeur plans of world domination. He had to be stopped.

The world is mine. Usually, Tomas didn’t dine on canine, but in this instance, he’d make an exception. Grandfather would be so proud. He’d raised Tomas old school, and that meant eating the enemy to take on his strength. Thankfully, Grandmother knew how to make them tasty.

After the ignobleness of being caught by a shifter—I will enjoy eating your eyeballs, Theo Parker—Tomas needed some grand gesture to restore his reputation.

What a shame that Parker never got close enough for Tomas to take a bite, even though Tomas had asked nicely. “Here, boy. Where’s my good dog? Won’t you come down, little puppy, and see how big my eyes are?” Tomas teased in his gruffest voice. He used the acoustics in the room to his advantage and was rewarded with the sharp intakes of breath by the humans watching.

Let them stew a while in their fear. It would tenderize them for later.

Parker didn’t come down to visit, which really put a crimp in Tomas’s mouth-watering urge for a wolf rump roast. When I’m done, I’ll floss my teeth with his bones.

Alas, sly and wily Parker knew better than to get within reach, but the man—who would become the new rug for Tomas’s mudroom—did enjoy watching.

At least, he used to. It had been a while since Tomas had seen Parker. The man kept busy; evil was more work than people realized.

Standing, the chains tethering Tomas rattled again, but he ignored their weight and noise in order to stretch. There wasn’t much else for him to do in the pit, which sounded as stark as the reality. A deep hole, the walls sheer, and close enough that he couldn’t take his true shape and fly. No mattress to pillow his body. Not even a blanket to warm his frame.

Escape seemed impossible with no ladder leading up. The glassy surface of the walls proved too slippery to grip. Assuming he could break free from the chains.

I could. But no use letting his supposed captors know that their attempt to hold him had a flaw. A big flaw. Their puny measures wouldn’t hold him when the time came.

The time is coming soon.

Since his capture, Tomas hadn’t learned anything. He was, however, well rested and bored. So very bored.

Let’s go kill something.

His inner spirit knew exactly what it wanted to do.

Stretching his arms, he paced the small area, refusing to glance upward, even though he felt the weighty stare of people watching.

Let them watch.

Let them tremble.

Let them wonder if today is the day Tomas will send them to their maker.

“Don’t tell me you still have hope, Tomas?” Parker’s mocking words echoed down from speakers placed at the upper rim of the pit. “You can’t escape.”

“Is that a challenge?” He liked to collect those. Personal achievements were some of his most treasured possessions.

“When will you admit you’ve lost?”

“How do you figure I’ve lost?” Tomas raised his head, the scalp of it shorn. It didn’t please him that his head felt bereft without the lush mantle of hair he’d once sported. The scientists here kept him clean-shaven, mostly to prevent the infestation of lice and other critters. How kind of them.

Just another reason to kill them.

And drink from their skulls. Barbaric, but hey, he wasn’t about to argue with his other side. It was, after all, a time-honored tradition with defeated enemies.

“You show such optimism,” Theo remarked, the various embedded speakers making his words echo. “And yet, it’s been what now, three months? You’ve tried a few times to escape. Killed some good people and never managed to make it out. Admit it.” Theo’s voice lowered an octave. “I have beaten you. I am in control.”

“Don’t get too ahead of your masters there, puppy.” A deliberate goad that gave Tomas great pleasure. “I am simply enjoying your hospitality. I have not slept this much in years. I feel wonderful. Refreshed. I should thank you and offer to pay for this wondrous experience.” Tomas leaned against the wall.

“So your screams during our last round of experiments were of pleasure, then?”

At the reminder of the excruciating pain, Tomas bared his teeth, and his beast, that inner raging monster, briefly rose to the surface. But that was as far as he allowed it. He knew what Parker was after, and he wouldn’t give in.

What had happened was something he’d rather not recall. But Tomas also wasn’t so weak that he’d whine about it. He played the victim to find out what happened. Firsthand was one of the best ways to figure things out.

“You wouldn’t have to suffer if you’d just shift.”

Parker’s end goal. He wanted Tomas to change into his true shape. Like hell. No one makes me do anything.

“Kind of hard for me to transform when you’ve always got me sleeping.” Although Parker had almost managed to force Tomas to morph during his last comatose round. Thankfully, Tomas had woken in time to stop it.

“The way I hear it, you woke early and maimed our newest attending scientist.”

“Maimed? I must have missed. I was aiming to kill. My mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” The restrained tone cracked slightly. “I can stop the pain and give you so much if you would just shift.”

Just. It sounded so simple. Parker wanted blood samples in a shifted state, his true state. Dangerous stuff his blood, which was why Parker wasn’t getting it.

However, Tomas didn’t let him know that. “So if I do as you ask, you’ll stop the torture sessions?” Which he healed from with only a few new scars. “Feed me decent carnivore meals rather than this protein bar crap?”

“I can do that.”

“What about a woman? As you noted, it’s been a while.”

“I can get a woman for you and all the rest. Shift.” Parker hastened to add. “And promise you’ll let us close enough to get some samples.”

“You can have the samples you want if you come down here. Right here.” Tomas jerked his thumb to a spot in front of him.

“I’m not a pet that you can order around.” The words hissed out. “And you are useless to me in this form.”

“Then let me go.”

“Never. You will change eventually. My scientists have been perfecting the formula. Soon, you won’t be able to say no, and I will have what I need.”

“What you need is your head shoved up your ass because, apparently, you refuse to see how full of shit you are.”

“Have it your way, Tomas. The painful way.” Parker turned off the speaker, but Tomas didn’t have to hear him to know what he said next. Drug him.

There was no escaping the mist with the medicinal scent. No hiding from its effects.

Now, as other times, he couldn’t hold his breath forever, and he slumped to the floor.

It seemed like but a blink of his eyes, and yet it must have been much longer, for he woke strapped to a gurney. His lids felt heavy, and so he squinted, but he didn’t see much, not with his lashes so thick he could barely see through them.

Those lashes, though, served to hide. He peeked through the tiny, obscured slit and recognized the heavily shielded room: no windows, one door—metal, bolted shut and requiring a keycard for access. A few cameras monitored the room, and the guards watching only needed to press one button to send Tomas back to Sleepy Land.

Movement and a rustle of fabric drew his attention to a spot behind his head, but he still didn’t move, pretending the drugs were still running too thickly through his system.

No point in letting anyone know Tomas once more processed their attempts to sedate, and even more quickly than before. They’d already changed his dosage and the mixture numerous times trying to counter his ability to filter it, but his body was stronger than any drug.

There’s a reason I’m better than you, Parker. I know how to play the long game.

He continued to feign unconsciousness, letting himself peek only through the slimmest of slits. He took stock of his body, noting the IVs digging into each of his arms. The clear one, a hydrating solution to keep him alive. The other pumped some noxious cocktail into his veins. Parker was determined to make him shift. So he can steal my DNA.

Not happening. Tomas knew the merits of paranoia and protecting his secret. Grandfather had drilled him growing up and stressed the importance of hiding from the humans.

Tomas learned early in his adulthood that the humans knew more than his grandfather realized. But those who knew didn’t out the shifters of the world. Didn’t expose those who lived under a strange veil of normalcy.

Everyone had lived in ignorant bliss until the day Parker decided to thrust the existence of cryptozoids upon the world. Shifters first, then the fairies and merpeople. Tomas even heard rumblings that dragons were coming out.

The craziness. Was nothing sacred anymore?

More noise as material crinkled. White fabric moved into view, and Tomas flexed his fingers, wondering if the person would move close enough for him to have some fun.

A scent caught him, deeply exotic, making him think of the heated desert sands and spice. Cinnamon and nutmeg. Delicious.

I want it. Craved it. He couldn’t help but sniff again.

The uncontrollable interest took him by surprise. I need to slow down.

No. Smells yummy, he argued with himself.

He wanted a bite. Roasted was normally his choice. Nothing better than crispy skin to crunch. But in this case, he’d settle for nibbling the spice-scented skin.

The figure moved away, and he heard mumbling. “Wrong. So wrong.”

What was wrong? And why did her voice tickle over him, drawing a frisson from his skin? Yes, her. The soft, feminine voice with only the slightest hint of an accent gave it away.

“How did I ever think this would work?”

Her castigation almost made him smirk. Hard to feel pity that the doctor’s formula did not work as expected.

A hand touched him, and he almost flinched at the electric contact. How long since someone had touched him? Surely that explained why his senses were roused by such a simple act.

“You poor thing. What is wrong with Parker? Why would he do this to you?”

Pity? That almost had him casting off his feigned act of sleep.

“Do you even know what they’re trying to do?”

No, but keep talking. He’d love to find out.

She sighed. “I certainly don’t know. Parker won’t tell me anything. And the few others I’ve met are just as clueless.”

Yeah, that irritates me, too. What was the point of terrifying people into talking when they couldn’t relate anything of worth?

“Why do they have you tied down? Drugged. What makes you so dangerous?” Again, a finger trailed over his skin, running along the edge of his hair, ending at his jaw.

Did she even grasp how dangerous her act was? Had no one explained he could kill her with one hand and not feel bad about it?

Then why haven’t I killed her yet?

He could. Even tied to a bed, he was deadly, and yet Tomas didn’t act. He didn’t move. He didn’t do a damned thing but let her stroke him. And talk—her melodious voice the nicest thing he’d heard since his capture.

Nicer would be her hand moving farther down.

“I was such an idiot. Thinking I could come here and expose what was happening. Stupid. I know. And now I’m just as much a prisoner as you.”

Hardly. She wore the white coat, and yet for some reason, her sad words made him want to rise and smite those that made her feel that way.

Grind their bones to dust.

Her fingers brushed imaginary hair from his forehead. “I should stop wasting time and draw your blood. Parker gets very upset when I dally too long. He seems to think you’re becoming immune to the drugs. Doubtful. He’s pumped you full of enough stuff to take down an elephant.”

An elephant? The comparison almost brought forth a growl.

Perhaps she’s admired my massive trunk. That brought a twitch to a part of his body that had played dead since his arrival.

Not dead, obviously, but still, lusting after the enemy? The drugs must be working some kind of evil magic. Perhaps they’d infected him with an erectile remedy that would keep him in a constant state of arousal that required him to leap from this bed and take the woman they’d so kindly offered.

I can’t just pounce on her.

Women tended to scream when a male did that. That tidbit had arrived via his great-uncle Vinny. He’d had more women divorce him than Tomas had dated.

Something pricked his arm, and he could smell—over the astringent antiseptic—the coppery scent of blood. His blood.

Always with his blood. Vials and vials of it taken, and for no reason. Don’t they know my blood is useless in this form? Apparently not, because they kept trying, which was really stupid of them. They really shouldn’t provoke me. He would have his revenge.

He must have moved, perhaps uttered a sound, because he practically felt it when she froze. The very air seemed to grow taut with anticipation—and fear.

Her fear. “Are you awake?” She whispered the words, and yet he knew those watching would hear.

No use feigning sleep. He opened his eyes and smiled, showing all his teeth. “Hello, doctor.”

She gaped at him, blinked thickly lashed lids over giant brown eyes. She didn’t scream or run. Her lips, full and a red that came from nibbling, quirked. “Hello.”

One tiny word. It slapped him. He might have recoiled. He certainly felt off balance, and Tomas didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re new,” he stated.

“I am. But I hear you’re not.”

Did the doctor think to play nice with the prisoner? He wasn’t that foolish. “Don’t play games with me, doctor. It won’t work.”

“Neither will your bully tactics.” She moved away from him.

He didn’t like her moving away. Then let’s go get her. The bed and the straps holding him thought to keep him away.

Nothing can keep me from her. Tomas pulled on his beast side with no hesitation, took the strength he needed, and then pushed upwards. His hands formed fists, the cords in his arms and wrists straining. Metal groaned, and he startled a gasp from the caramel-skinned doctor.

Snap. Snap. His arms came loose, which meant it took only a little extra time to free his legs. I’m not contained, you fuckers. Tomas stood and wondered when the gas would begin to seep.

He immediately frowned. They couldn’t do the gas. It might hurt the woman. Oddly enough, he found himself averse to the idea.

Currently, the doctor with the exotic accent stared at him, so it seemed only right to stare right back. It allowed him time to catalogue—and process—her fragile beauty. She was average height, which meant up to his chin, with a slim frame covered in tanned skin.

Skin I need to taste.

Except, he didn’t just think she’d taste delicious basted with avocado oil and spices and roasted over a slow, coal-burning fire. I bet her skin is lovely to lick. And what of the honey pot between her legs?

Lick some honey or lose himself to chocolate as he stared into the lustrous depths of her brown eyes? He couldn’t decide. Full red lips parted, drawing his gaze. Wanted them. On him.

“Are you going to kill me?” She spoke and caught him off guard.

“I should kill you. I don’t like doctors.”

“I’m a biologist.”

“Same thing. It’s not nice to experiment on people.”

“I didn’t experiment.”

“Yet you are in the room with me and saw the stuff being pumped into me. You cannot tell me that the stuff in that bag is anything my body needs.” He waved to the IV.

“I don’t know what it is. I was just asked to draw some samples.”

“Do you always take samples from unconscious people?”

“Parker says you’re not a person.”

“What does Parker say I am?” He smiled and again bared his pearly whites to no reaction.

She held his gaze, seemingly steady, yet he could scent the undercurrent of fear, see the fast, thready beat of her pulse. “He hasn’t said what you are, just that you’re dangerous.”

“I am.”

Her head tilted. “Perhaps even more dangerous than he realizes.”

“I think you’re right.” His lips twitched, rueful and teasing. “What a shame a smart woman like you works for a man like him.”

Before she could reply, and he could tell she wanted to, a familiar male voice erupted from the embedded speakers. “Dr. Kashmir works for me because she knows what’s good for her. Don’t you, doctor?”

It seemed Parker was watching today. How interesting.

The woman raised her gaze to the ceiling and glared. “I hope you die from some kind of incurable itch.”

Not a solution that involved spurting copious amounts of blood, but Tomas admired the insulting elegance and pure torture of it.

Tomas felt a need to show the doctor he could be quite vindictive, too. “I’ve offered to eviscerate him, but that twat waffle with a yellow belly turned me down.”

She shook her head. “He was right to turn you down. And you should know better. Evisceration is rather messy and won’t prevent him from returning as a zombie.”

He almost laughed. “You believe in zombies?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

A scientist believed? His brows lifted. “You know of someone who has managed to recreate the resurrection formula?”

Her grin proved endearingly cheeky. “Nope. But I am fascinated that you thought I might have. And what do you mean recreate?”

Parker interrupted. “While you’re chatting, why not make yourselves useful. Doctor Kashmir, please retrieve the samples we requested. And if the patient cooperates, perform a full physical.”

Cooperate? The usual answer was no, but in this case… “I’ll go along with it, but only if she forgoes the gloves.” He turned and positioned himself on the gurney. He peeled off the pale blue, linen smock top he wore, revealing his upper body.

Her mouth rounded, not in awe but displeasure. “Why are you so gaunt? A man your size should have a thicker frame.”

“I still have my muscle.” He flexed for her, showing the firm cord without an ounce of fat. Looking down at himself, he noted how tight his skin was to his body, delineating every tendon and bone.

He needed more food.

“Someone give this man a steak.” She echoed his sentiment.

“Nothing wrong with this body, doctor. Touch me and see.” He dared.

Her hands tucked behind her back instead. It appeared as if she was not prepared for him and didn’t know how to handle him.

But I know how to handle you. Licking a sticky sweet sauce off her body came to mind.

“You’ll have to move away from the door if you’re going to examine me, doctor,” he chided.

She remained pressed against the locked portal. “You’re being too amenable. What are you planning?”

“What can I plan? I’m a prisoner and patient at your complete mercy.” He did not think he managed unassuming. Given the biting of her lower lip, she appeared rather unconvinced of his benign nature.

“You broke out of your straps.”

“Don’t blame me for that. You would hate them, too, if you were a prisoner.”

“I am a prisoner.”

The lie angered him more than it should have. “You’re wearing the white coat. You can walk out that door at any time.” Technically, so could he. It was the bullets on the other side that concerned him a little. “You have a life, whereas I have the pit.”

“That’s you in there?” She appeared genuinely shocked. “Are you alone? Do you have a, um, pitmate?”

“Does it look like I have a roommate? I’m alone. This whole lab is centered around me. Or haven’t you noticed the lack of others to play with?”

“I haven’t been out much. Just here and my quarters. And once, the control room.”

Probably another lie made to make her seem stuck. Tomas began to grasp Parker’s devious plot.

It wouldn’t work.

“I’m getting cold over here, doctor.” He spread his arms. “Are we going to do this or not? Although, I warn you, the chill might make it so a certain measurement of length is inaccurate. I’m sure we could fix that, though, if you gave me a hand.” Crude, and not his usual style, but an urge to grab at the doctor meant a higher level of frustration than expected when she refused to come near him.

She didn’t move from her spot against the door. “Why does Parker keep you here?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t even know who you are.”

“More lies?” He tsked her. He doubted Parker would have brought her here and left her blind as to what Tomas was.

“I’m not lying. I have no idea who you are. You’re not who I expected to find, actually.”

She’d expected another? A hot flash of jealousy almost made him lose control. Tomas tempered it. “Sorry you feel so deprived. Is this where I tell you that I’m better than anyone else? To choose me?” He snorted. “You are attractive and quite tasty, I’m sure, but I haven’t lost my wits.” Her feminine wiles wouldn’t break him.

“You might want a second opinion on that,” she muttered, her slight accent adding a delightful twist to the insult.

She played her role of innocent so well. It angered him. “Is this my carrot, Parker?” he asked aloud, hiding any traces of frustration. “I know I asked you for a woman, but I expected someone less dressed. At least she’s pretty, not that I’ll see her face when I take her from behind.” He tossed the threat to the ceiling and the camera furiously recording from up there. As he did, he missed her approach—and the slap.

Crack.