Touched by Lightning (16 page)

Joe crouched in front of the dog, doing one of those smoothing things with her skirt that Gyda knew she’d never manage, until she was face-to-face with the wolfhound. “He’s Mommy’s baby, isn’t he? He wuvs sweeping with Mommy and cuddling with Mommy when she’s cranky, doesn’t he? Yes you do!”

Gyda winced at the high-pitched baby talk. The dog did as well, pulling away from Joe for a moment to swipe his tongue over the back of Gyda’s hand. At first she tensed, waiting for him to take off the whole limb, but he was surprisingly dainty about it, being sure to keep his sharp teeth away from her skin. Her nose wrinkled a little at the feel of the dog’s tongue, but when he pulled away, all displeasure and anger and angst and jealousy faded.

She stared at her hand, expecting to see something, a rash or something that would account for the strange buzz floating through her body. It was almost the same sensation she had when she used her knives, or when she was flying high from the pleasure Brit gave her. Sixteen was all mellow and even Tora was at peace and calm, their tantrums about men and lovers and everything else a forgotten litany. Her skin remained clear though, no darkness or redness to indicate a drug. And what would a dog be doing with saliva that could medicate a person anyway?

But this was the Order of Themis. Human evolution was changing on a daily basis, leading to new abilities cropping up in the most obscure ways. She’d never heard of animals going through the same evolutionary changes, but it didn’t mean it was impossible. Maybe there were supernatural dogs out there with powers, because there was no way in hell this behemoth was anything but a dog. Unless he really wasn’t a dog…

Gyda’s gaze darted from her hand to the wolfhound, who was suffering through Joe peppering air kisses around his face. His tongue lolled out his mouth and he actually seemed to be enjoying the kisses and baby talk, because his eyes were a little glazed and trained on Joe’s face with complete love. No, he had to be a dog. No one could endure that kind of attention without going insane. Even if it was part of some elaborate plan to… She shook her head, not even sure what would be important enough to put up with this kind of behavior and finally gave it up.

It was a dog. A dog whose only power was the ability to share pure love with nothing expected in return. Maybe she should’ve gotten a pet at some point, Gyda mused as she watched Joe finally bring an end to her adoration fest with her dog. A pet might have made life a little less lonely, would have provided the love she needed but didn’t trust enough to ask of a person.

We’ll look into a pet after we finish up with the O.T.
, Sixteen acknowledged in a very mellow tone.
You know, if this is what it feels like when you cut yourself…I can sort of understand it. Sort of.

Joe turned to her just as the door opened, bringing the scent of ozone with it.
Brit.
Gyda’s gaze left the other woman, her attention focusing on the man who’d brought about such a powerful change in her life. His handsome face was impassive until he saw her. Then a spark of life lit his dark eyes, his dimples played peek-a-boo with her in a fleeting smile before he buried everything deep again.

Her heart did a strange hitch in her chest before Sixteen’s cynicism emerged.
Told you. You’re good for fucking, but as soon as something better comes along…

Before she could let that thought take root, another man appeared right behind Brit. For a moment, she thought she was seeing double, but as he stepped into the daylight from the shadows of the house, she saw various differences between the men. This man with his dark eyes and hair was colder, less charming than Gyda’s country lover. He had the same-shaped face and vaguely the same body shape, but where Brit was muscled and tattooed, vibrant with the life and power held in his body, this man was pale and lean. Brit wore a t-shirt and plain cargos, just about the only thing he owned other than worn jeans, while the faded copy of Brit wore an expensive suit.

Gyda might not have been much of a fashion fiend the way Joe obviously was, but even she could tell good quality in clothes, cars and furnishings. It helped when you needed to make quick money and swiping a few coats or a car were your only options. This man’s clothes were expensive and tailor-made for him, his shoes shiny enough to act like mirrors. Despite his perfectly groomed hair and well-fitting clothes, Gyda wanted to move away from him, her instincts on high alert. There was something about him that raised the hair on her nape, causing her to take an unintended step back. Sixteen’s mellow mood disappeared as she absorbed Gyda’s instinctive reaction.

Her mental shields, cracked open to allow her to feel closer to Brit, were assaulted by a strange, almost acidic lust. She flinched away from her lover as he approached, her body automatically putting distance between her and the source of that insidious emotion. She stepped off the porch, her body tense, Tora surfacing as a snarling, hissing presence in her mind.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the newcomer, her heart speeding up as though she’d run a five-minute mile. Her palms became clammy with sweat and her fingers curled into claws at this threat. Tora shoved against the barrier separating their minds, memories slamming into her like a jackhammer.

Pain, so much pain she wanted to die from it. Echoes of ribald laughter as she screamed and pled for mercy rang in her ears. The blind hope when they healed her, the warmth as her body was knitted together and then the betrayal as they broke her again. Only to heal her and break her yet again. Over and over until she couldn’t even scream anymore, until she couldn’t fight, until she didn’t care what they did to her. All of it flipped through her mind like a bad movie with jumpy pictures.

In each one the master was blurry, his face indistinct, his voice masked, but the pictures slowed until she could see them easier, see the second man in them. The one who wasn’t quite protected, whose face and eyes became more distinct until she saw him reflected in this man before her.

Him. The healer. The one who’d destroyed more than her body. He’d shredded her future, his laughing claims ringing in her head as she stared at him.

“It’s a very successful procedure,” he said as he held his hand over her lower abdomen. “I’ve experimented with forced hormonal sterilization with a few of our other toys.” He looked up at Sixteen with liquid-dark eyes. “No more periods to keep you off rotation, baby. This little pussy will be in action twenty-four seven, three hundred sixty-four days a year.”

He touched her skin, sending sharp needles of pain into her. It burned like acid and she fought against her restraints, tears leaking from her eyes, her mouth open to scream but nothing came out. Not anymore. Not after the last time…

“Ah, caught ya,” he drawled as he frowned. He looked over at the man standing on the other side of Sixteen. “Whoever had her last left some very active swimmers who were headed for fertile ground. But I got ’em in time.”

“How long will it last?” the indistinct voice of her master asked over the rushing of blood through Sixteen’s veins.

The healer straightened with a smirk. “Forever. This little bitch won’t be going into heat or making brats until I take it off her and since I don’t plan on doing that, we have ourselves a sterilized whore.”

“Excellent.” Her master said, stroking his hand over Sixteen’s wet cheek. “Be sure to heal her when you’re finished, I have plans for her tonight.”

He left her with the healer, who shed his clothes and set about playing, his leering face looming over her…

“Fuck!”

The shout was muffled, a distant roar to the screaming, howling Beast in Gyda’s soul. Tora pushed forward, stepping into her consciousness with the ease of long practice. The healer, the man who’d abused her so horribly was within her grasp and she wasn’t letting him go.

Brit, Gyda’s oh so charming swain, stepped into Tora’s path, his body puffed up with electricity, protecting the very man who’d committed a heinous crime against her.

Protecting the healer from true justice
.
He’s protecting the man who destroyed us.

This was why she hadn’t wanted them to get attached to anyone. They thought they had the right to butt into your business and this man, this healer was definitely Tora’s business.

She shoved Brit out of the way, using all the strength she possessed, sending his body spinning into the bitch in the pink suit. They went down in a jumble of limbs while the damn dog stared at Tora with disappointment. She shrugged off the thought and faced her target.

His smirk hadn’t died away, the gleam in his eyes brighter than ever. He knew she remembered him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he stared at her. He wasn’t frightened of her, his arrogance a shield he thought he could hide behind. He probably thought the recruits and trainers would save him.

Tora bared her teeth at him. No one was going to get between them. She could still feel his hands on her, his powers leeching the maternal purpose of her womb from her. He’d stolen something more precious than her soul or her life. He’d taken the promise of children from her. It didn’t matter to her that she had no intentions of having children, no desire to give birth, but having it stolen from her by this man to make her body the perfect vessel for lust was too much.

She snarled as she reached for him, only to be brought up short by a hard arm around her midriff. Tora bucked to free herself, her head slamming back, kicking her heels against the hard legs and digging her fingernails into the arm holding her. But it was Murphy whose body was impervious to her attack. She hissed and snarled, fighting him anyway, madness clawing at her.

All while that smug bastard stared at her with a knowing smile. She roared at him, her hands leaving the solid metal of Murphy’s arm and lifting to lunge at him one last time.

“Contain her!” an authoritative voice ordered from nearby. “Goddamn, someone bring her down!”

“Gyda, please,” Brit’s familiar voice pleaded with her, his sorrow beating at her mental shields. “Please come back.”

Tora felt Gyda perk up at her lover’s voice, at his pleas, felt her shove at the thick barrier separating them. Gyda wanted out, wanted to talk rationally with Brit, the man she loved more than anything. And Tora almost let her, but as though he knew exactly what she planned, the healer spoke.

“Lord almighty, cousin, I sure hope she’s more of a pussy cat in bed than this.”

Everything inside her went still inside her as Gyda, Sixteen and Tora absorbed this information. United in their fear of betrayal. Brit stood right next to the healer, a much brighter, vibrant presence, but the similarities were evident. The shape of their eyes, their coloring similar, and most telling was Brit turning to the healer to shout. How could she have missed that? How could she have been so stupid as to not remember what her tormenter looked like?

Because Brit had a different emotional wavelength than the healer did, something warmer and more compassionate, yet even beneath that she could feel the familial bond. A shared past, shared memories. And it broke her heart. No, not broke it, smashed it to a million pieces.

“Shut your mouth, Asa, ain’t nobody got time for your bullshit. You’re here to heal her. That’s it.” His frustrated look bounced between Gyda and the healer, confusion twisting at his face. “Gyda, just please…calm down and let him heal you.”

Cousins with the monster who’d taken away her future, who’d helped torture her. Brit shared blood with the healer, his features similar enough that she was shocked she hadn’t noticed it before now. Her memories were still too fuzzy for her to see everything clearly, but seeing Asa now cracked open another door in her mind, allowing her a sneak peek at his face. And she wanted to shred it, dismember him, tear him apart piece by piece.

Asa smiled again, his gaze drifting over her. “I can’t wait to get my hands on this one.”

Words so similar to ones he’d used all those years ago snapped Gyda’s last hold on sanity. The thought of him touching her for anything, of breathing the same fucking air as her was enough to send Tora and Sixteen over the edge. Gyda curled up in the back of her mind, shell-shocked to realize the man she’d fallen in love with, trusted with her body and her soul, had been planning to hand her over to the healer who’d brought her so much harm.

Tora, hungry for vengeance, planted her foot on Murphy’s thigh and kicked off, lunging for the healer. There were more shouts, a few screams and then the sharp sting of electricity bouncing through her body. She convulsed, her hands falling away before they reached the bastard’s throat.

And when she hit the floor of the porch with a thud, the last thing she saw was Brit’s shocked and sad eyes.

Brit heard the screams long before he reached the isolation cells located beneath El Dorado. The words were barely understandable, but there was no mistaking the pain in them, the hatred and fury in them. They barely had time to die off before the next one began, the unrelenting litany making the guards leading him through the facility twitchy. Even the other prisoners were silent, their eyes wide as they listened to those unrelenting howls.

His heart didn’t ache, it was pulverized. Guilt and self-disgust flayed his soul because he’d hurt the one woman who held his heart.
Yeah, great time to realize you were in love. When you were reaching out to incapacitate your lady love as she tried to kill your cousin.
But he’d known he loved her because he’d only had two choices when Gyda lunged at Asa with murder in her eyes. Knock her out and hope they could break through to her in a more protected environment, or watch her be executed for killing one of the O.T.’s most valuable members. He’d chosen to lock her up rather than let her die for her attack because if she was alive, at least there was a chance of redemption.

There was no redemption for him. From Joe down to the recruits, everyone looked at him with wariness and a little hint of disgust. Brit reached up to rub the back of his neck, hoping to ease a little of the tension. Fat lot of fucking good it did. His body was nothing more than a knotted mass of stress and had been ever since Gyda fell to the floor of his porch, more animal than human, body twitching from the powerful jolts of electricity he’d sent into her. Chaos had reined for several minutes as Joe teleported out only to return with restraints. The recruits had been scared to death about the near miss, requiring Murphy and Ted to soothe them. And Asa had stood calm as the eye of a hurricane as destruction swirled around him.

Two days of filing reports, answering questions by the Internal Investigations Division of the O.T., fielding calls from his mom who wanted to know about the woman who’d nearly killed her nephew and he was almost done for. By rights, he should’ve been put under house arrest until IID finished their shit, but he had to see Gyda and Joe, to his surprise, agreed because they had to find out what had sent her over the edge. Joe hadn’t had much luck pulling it out of Gyda’s mind, which was now lost to the Beast.

Even Leo, the man who’d put a lock on Gyda’s animalistic side, wasn’t able to break through. Estelle was devastated and blamed Brit. He hadn’t dodged her accusing looks since he
was
at fault. If he had paid more attention to Gyda’s mental and emotional needs instead of her physical ones, he might have been able to prevent this from happening. But he’d followed his gut and his libido, wanting her more than anything, determined to protect her from the world instead of helping her work through her problems.

“She’s been on suicide watch since they brought her in,” Joe murmured as she walked next to him. Another howling scream sounded, sending a chill down Brit’s spine. “They wanted to medicate her, but we need to know why she attacked Asa as well as the other information you weren’t able to pry from her.” She paused. “I should’ve realized there was more to it when I touched her that day in the warehouse…but that block she has isn’t one she created. This is my fault,” she whispered.

Brit knew that wasn’t true. If anyone was to blame it was him. Because he’d been too busy fucking her to do his job. Joe didn’t need to say the words, although he heard them loud and clear. It was no secret around the O.T. that he’d shared a bed with Gyda. The surveillance tapes had been confiscated as part of the internal nvestigation. The only good thing Brit had going for him was that he was Joe’s direct employee, a Siphon she needed to keep from losing control of her powers. Otherwise, he’d most likely be in a cell here as well.

The guards stopped to open the twelve-inch-thick reinforced steel door leading to the super-max security section of the prison. The howling screams were louder now, scraping over his nerves like nails across a blackboard.

Joe took the moment to touch Brit’s arm. “I know this is going to be hard for you,” she whispered, her blue eyes swimming with compassion. Throughout it all, the investigation, the interrogation by IID, Joe had been helpful and kind. She knew how deeply he cared for Gyda, how much it cost him to know she’d ended up here despite his love for her. “I’m hoping seeing you again will shake her out of it, but I have to warn you, Brit…” She shook her head and looked away. “It’s bad. This isn’t the woman, or women if you want to get technical, you love. It’s as though she’s sunk so far deep inside that feral mind there’s no talking to her.”

He didn’t say a word, couldn’t. He only inclined his head and followed the guards as they preceded them through the opening, the massive door clanging shut behind them, sealing them into one of the strongest prisons in the world. Like most super-max security prisons, the walls, floors and ceilings were reinforced steel, thick enough to withstand an atom bomb. The minute he stepped through the door, Brit felt his powers seeping out of him, the powerful Voids who worked this sector draining them.

It was just a precaution the O.T. took in case supes attempted to break into, or out of, the prison. It wasn’t the best place for someone with Gyda’s problems. Joe didn’t even seem happy with it, but it was the safest place they could find for her without drugging her into a near coma. The facilities were top-notch, the security air-tight and there was no breaking out. Knowing she was probably being treated as a patient instead of a prisoner should have eased his mind, but it didn’t. Nothing would.

The guards leading them to Gyda’s cell cleared Brit and Joe through security and the familiar buzz of Brit’s powers returned as the Voids withdrew their bubble of power.

“Healer Quigley is with her now,” one of the guards said without a flicker of emotion coloring his voice. “He’s assessing her for the need to put her on a feeding tube.”

“Fuck,” Joe whispered and shook her head. “Take us back there.”

Brit couldn’t have found his voice if someone was holding a gun to his head. A feeding tube. Brit couldn’t have said it any better than Joe. His stomach twisted into a knot and refused to relax as he followed the small retinue through the cold, sterile prison.

Cold because for the most part, the prisoners here were on ice. Literally. The individual cryogenic chambers, which looked more like capsules, were stacked on top of each other from floor to ceiling. Prison-issued numbers were stamped on the ends of the chambers, letting the guards know which prisoners were where. The ones who made it to those capsules were generally never heard from again. The O.T. made very few mistakes when they put supes through the justice system. There was a whole branch of the organization devoted to uncovering the truth even from those who were known to have strong mental shields. These criminals were the ones who were deemed too dangerous to even attempt to rehabilitate.

Once they passed those creepy, silent sentinels, the guards led them down another corridor that opened into a round room. The circular desk at the center provided seven alert guards with a perfect view of three corridors where more cells were laid out like spokes in a wheel.

“We’ve had her in one of the observation cells since she was brought in,” the guard at the front notified Joe and Brit as he led them down the center corridor. “There’s a room with a one-way mirror so we can watch to make sure she’s not harming herself or others. Which one of you is going in?”

Brit finally found his voice. “I am.”

The guard nodded. “Director Daly, if you’ll step through here,” he said and opened a door that led into a small dark room with a massive window. “Mr. Harper, please wait while I inform Healer Quigley you’re here. Only one person is allowed with her at a time unless it’s feeding time.”

He barely heard the guard, his whole attention focused on the big window, or more importantly the woman on the other side who looked as though she was a hair trigger from killing the man standing in front of her. Gyda’s hair was tangled and wild, her face pale with deep, dark shadows beneath her brilliant eyes. They’d removed her earrings and nose ring, the lack of jewelry bringing attention to the feral snarl on her face.

She wore a shapeless, paper-thin gown that only emphasized her delicate build. She had claw marks on her arms, as though she’d torn herself open in a fit, and the curl of her lip never let up. Asa spoke to her in a low tone, his voice a mere murmur of sound beneath her constant howling. Joe moved around the room, clicking through something but Brit couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman he loved. The woman he’d betrayed by not helping her the way she needed.

Brit’s throat clogged. She looked insane, her eyes gleaming with that unholy light, as though she were possessed by a demon. She bucked against her restraints, her fingers curved claws ready to lash out at someone.

Joe appeared at his side and gripped his shoulder, offering her silent sympathy as the door to the room opened. Asa looked away from Gyda and shrugged, standing up and leaving the cell. Her wild eyes followed him, hatred bleeding from every pore of her body. Brit’s skin chilled at that sight, trying to understand why she’d formed such an instant, intense hatred of his cousin. Because of the extensive static barrier protecting her deepest memories, the doctors and therapists were working on theories alone. Without breaking into her mind, which would leave her a vegetable, there was no knowing exactly what had caused her to attack unless she told them. The shrinks theorized she feared healers, people who’d let her down when she needed them most, but Brit wasn’t sure he bought it. This hatred felt too personal, too intense, as though she knew him from somewhere.

He’d thought that as soon as he saw her reaction to Asa, but he had no proof of anything. His cousin was a bit weird, a brilliant eccentric famed for his powers. If there had been any hint of darkness associated with him, it would’ve leaked by now, but there was nothing to suggest Asa was anything more than an ass. Yet watching Gyda now, the way her body almost went limp when the door shut behind the healer, made him wonder if there was something they’d missed.

“Brit, Joe,” Asa said as he entered the observation room. “I was just assessing her for a feeding tube. She’s completely feral, I’m afraid. I haven’t been able to get any information out of her, or help her more than to heal the wounds she keeps giving to herself.” He shrugged again. “I don’t think we’re going to find out anything about her captivity.”

“Pardon me if I think different,” Joe said in a cool voice. “You’re a healer, not a mind manipulator. I want Brit to talk to her. He’s the only one who’s had luck with her. If anyone can find out why she attacked you, he can.”

Asa darted a look from Joe and Brit to the woman trying to scratch her nose. “I don’t know. Her physical state is fragile at best. She screams anytime someone goes in there with her and I’ve had to sedate her from a distance several times just so she’d relax. I believe Brit’s…intimate relationship with her will only cause greater harm than good.”

But Joe stood her ground. “He’s going in.”

His cousin’s hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Be my guest, but you won’t get anything from her. Her brain patterns are simplistic at best.” His lips lifted in a smile. “Just don’t get close enough for her to bite. I don’t think she’s cognizant enough to know when to let go.” Brit could have sworn satisfaction gleamed in his cousin’s eyes as he said, “I doubt she remembers who she is, where she came from, or anything else we need to know. Like I said, she really is more animal than human right now, a rabid animal at that.”

* * * * *

“They’re going to let me have you,” he whispered as he watched her like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.” He carefully, subtly rubbed the bulge at the front of his pants. “All those lovely scars.” A spot of drool formed at the corner of his mouth as his eyes glazed with lust.

She snarled in silent fury, not giving voice to the fear raging in her heart. Tora saved it for when he approached again, which he would. He’d promised he’d be back when the guard asked him to step out. She gave her wrists another tug, ignoring the sting of her raw skin wrenching against the restraints again. They kept her restrained whenever someone came to her cell, not wanting to risk her attacking anyone else.

Tora spared a brief moment to apologize to the young guard whose only mistake had been telling her the healer was coming to see her. She’d lost her shit and hadn’t been able to get it back because every time she quieted down, Asa showed up. Again and again, using his words to evoke memories she wished had remained buried. Then she remembered that she couldn’t trust any of them. The O.T. was harboring at least one monster, there was no telling how many more were out there, waiting to destroy another innocent.

A growl rumbled in her chest at the thought, but she kept the noise inside. Her throat was on fire from all the screaming she’d done since waking up in this room. So many cells in so little time. This one was the worst of them all because it meant she was one step away from an icy coffin. Her heart threatened to explode from her chest at the thought of those cryogenic cages. Sure, they said the prisoners were unaware of anything once they were injected, that their higher brain functions were brought to a stop, all systems going on standby until the prisoner was brought back later. They—the experts—claimed prisoners were unaware of anything, felt nothing, dreamed nothing, but neither Tora nor Sixteen trusted that. Gyda had been strangely quiet since they saw him on the porch, locked away like a child fearing the monsters were real.