Obsidian

Chapter Three

Confusion gripped 880 as he became aware of things slowly. Something pressed closer to his right side, a light weight rested on his chest and he tried to sniff to identify the source. His body didn’t obey his command. He couldn’t see since his eyes wouldn’t open or it was pitch dark. Alarm struck next when he tried to lift his hand to his face. It remained unresponsive, as though it wasn’t attached to his body any longer.

He concentrated on the weight resting over his chest that seemed familiar for some reason but he couldn’t figure out why. He took several deep breaths, each one helped him learn the shape against him as he judged it by feel. He figured out it was a hand lying on his chest and part of an arm.

Joy filled him suddenly, a sense of relief that 46 touched him.

She was well but that elation faded as something sinister tugged at his memory. He tried to remember what caused that bad emotion but his mind fogged. He must be drugged. They’d paralyzed his body again, which meant he must have fought the technicians. He hated them. He tried to growl to demonstrate his protest but failed.

Fear came next. What had they done to him?

The arm sprawled over his chest and the warmth pressed against his side assured him he lived and 46 remained close. Things couldn’t be too bad if she hadn’t been taken from him. The technicians did that often to punish him and he worried every time that she’d never be returned.

He couldn’t remember what he’d done to draw their anger. His mind blanked. It alarmed him more. How badly have they damaged me? What drugs are they testing this time? He couldn’t move, speak, or even use his nose to assist him, to put clues together to determine his situation by scent.

Trapped inside my own body. It terrified him and he hated the helplessness that nearly drew him to panic. It was the worst thing they could do to him. He pushed emotions back, focused on his breathing, and was able to finally hold his breath for a few seconds. It was something. He’d just have to fight past whatever new test drug they’d forced into his body. He’d done it before and he wouldn’t allow them to win. 46 needed his protection. He meant to keep his promise to do anything to prevent the technicians from harming her again.

The hand on his chest moved, languidly stroking his skin as her body pressed tighter against his. She seemed to stretch. Something wasn’t right but he just couldn’t figure out what. Her fingers dug into his muscles a tiny bit, a soft sigh sounded, and hair tickled the top of his shoulder when she adjusted next to him.

“You made it.”

The female’s voice was soft, unknown, and if he could have, he’d have jerked away from her.

She had slept curled against his side with her hand on his chest. Where is 46? Who is this female? Why has she been put in my living space?

Gentle fingers slid up his chest to his neck, pressed along his artery and paused. The pressure eased and the mattress under them shifted just slightly as she changed position. Metal scraped, her heat withdrew from his side and a draft of chilly air took her place. A blanket settled down and she pressed them tightly against his skin. A light caress breezed over his cheek.

“Your pulse is steady. I was so worried you wouldn’t do well off the machines but you seem to be doing fine. Now I need to give you a sponge bath. I’ll change your bag before I reinsert the feeding tube. I’m sorry but I need to do it until you’re well enough to eat on your own. I should have reestablished it last night but I figured you had suffered enough trauma being moved.”

Confusion filled him and nothing she said made sense. He struggled to move, to open his eyes, but was unable to do so.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to take a quick shower while the coffeemaker does its magic.”

The caress on his cheek stopped and he felt a slight tug on his hair as she seemed to manipulate it. “I’m a bear without coffee. That’s a secret.

Most people don’t want to hear that I’m addicted to caffeine but it’s the only way I survived my residency. They really put you through the wringer.” The blanket moved by his chin, tucked tighter, and she petted his chest through the layers of covering. “I’ll hurry. I’m just in the other room, okay? The only bathroom is down here. I’ll even leave the door open. I know you aren’t going to wake that quickly but I can always hope.”

She stopped touching him but he heard movement not too far away. Water ran. A package rustled. He wished he had a keener sense of smell but his nose didn’t seem to work right. Silence followed until louder water came on, something squeaked and then clicked. The water noise became slightly muffled.

880 struggled to regain use of his body. He was alone, according to the unknown female, and her words made enough sense that he worried she was a technician. Why would one of them sleep at my side? What game are they playing? Is it another of their twisted games to see how I react? He could feel the weight of something on his wrists and ankles, more aware of his body as time passed. They’d restrained him flat by his limbs.

He needed to gain control fast.

The water stopped too soon. He hadn’t made headway with his body, but he’d moved his tongue. It was sluggish but he’d been able to feel the roof of his mouth. One pinky finger twitched.

The drug was slowly wearing off. His body would shake the effects of it but it would take time, something he wasn’t sure he had to spare.

She said she wanted to hook him to a machine.

The squeak sounded again and she sighed softly while rustling around.

“Okay,” she called out. “I’m dressed and now about to pour myself a cup of coffee. I’m going to heat up some water too and we’ll get you clean.”

She paused. “Shit. I just realized I’m going to have to strip you down. I’m really sorry about that but it needs to be done. No one wants to be dirty. I’ll be more embarrassed than you. Trust me on that. It’s the one thing that still kind of gets to me. I hated clinic hours when I’d have to look at men’s penises. Let me tell you that it wasn’t always pretty.” She snorted. “Of course that time in the emergency room should have earned me an Emmy for acting as though it was normal for a guy to come in with his dick stuck inside a pipe.”

He listened, unable to do anything else, as she moved around. Her talk of dicks stunned him slightly. She owned a pleasant voice, though, that didn’t grate on his nerves.

“He came up with the lamest excuse ever, as though anyone would believe it accidentally happened. He didn’t trip naked and land on the damn thing. He was a pervert—one with his penis really wedged inside that pipe.” She laughed. “He should have at least used lube.” She came closer.

“You should have heard him scream when I had to, well, you don’t want to know where I had to insert a needle. You’d hate hearing about that procedure. I’m the one who had to do it and I still cringe.”

She had just admitted to torturing a male. He tried to growl to warn her away from him as she approached but his throat remained silent. Rage gripped him as he worried that she planned to hurt him too.

“Okay. We’ll do this together.” She was very near. “It’s warmer now that the sun is up so I don’t think you’ll catch a chill. I’d wait a few more hours but I need to reestablish that feeding tube. You’ve lost enough weight.” The covers were pulled down his torso to the beginning of his hips.

Water dripped on him before a warm cloth touched his face. Her ministrations were gentle as she rubbed every inch until she paused at his throat. The cloth left and he heard water sloshing before it returned. She washed his neck and shoulders.

“Don’t worry. You haven’t lost too much mass.

It’s hard to weigh you but your ribs are more defined.” She washed him there, down his belly, all the way to the covering across his lap. “I’m a professional. It’s okay.”

The cloth withdrew and he tried to snarl again as she slid the material lower. He could feel air hit his hips and knew he wore nothing except something that trailed over one thigh.

“Okay. I said that, didn’t I? This isn’t so bad. I needed to check your catheter anyway.”

He couldn’t move as the female cleaned his skin and he was shocked when timid, small fingers adjusted his cock. She touched him without gloves and he felt his body stir in response to skin-on-skin contact.

“Shit!” Her hand jerked away. “I guess that’s a good sign. Destiny said you never responded when he did that but it’s definitely a reaction to stimuli.” She sounded nervous. “It all looks good.

Everything is secure here and, um, I don’t need to reinsert your catheter.”

Her gentle ministrations became a little hurried as she washed down his legs and covered his lap with something light and dry. It tickled a little when she washed his feet and between his toes with the washcloth.

“Your foot jerked.” Excitement laced her voice. “You haven’t done that before! Maybe taking you away from Homeland was a good thing after all.”

The sounds of her breathing drew closer to his head. Wet hair fell across his bare chest when she leaned over him. The locks were cold but warm breath fanned his throat. Something was removed from over his eyes. It tugged a little on his forehead and cheeks.

“880? Can you hear me? Please open your eyes. I removed the taped pads. You’re safe.

You’ve been rescued from Mercile Industries.

They don’t have you anymore.”

What does that mean? He struggled to see her but everything remained dark.

Fingers rested on his chest and stroked his skin gently. “You just need to wake up. I’m so sorry about what was done to your mate. I know it hurts but you have to come back to the living. You’re young, strong, and have a bright future. There are a lot of people who will help you adjust to life outside the facilities. We all care about you.” She paused. “I care about you.”

What happened to 46? Why is the female sorry? Panic gripped him and he pushed at the fog inside his mind. Memories rushed forth as if a mental door opened that shoved him back into reality.

46 had died. The humans had given her drugs that made her sick then murdered her outside his cage, where he couldn’t protect her. He’d had to helplessly watch her life drain away on the floor in a pool of blood. Howls of grief had torn up his throat as he’d tried to kill her murderers by attacking the cage bars. He’d eventually blacked out from the pain of knowing she was gone to him forever and the indestructible walls he’d battered. He’d failed 46 and had gratefully sunk into the dark pit of despair when he’d lost consciousness.

Disappointment struck Allison when the Species male didn’t open his eyes. He’d moved his foot and his penis had reacted when she’d studied the catheter by touching him there. She’d count it as progress.

She stopped stroking his chest, drew back and reached for a towel to dry the drops of water she’d left on him when her hair had plastered to his chest. Her gaze remained on his face, looking for any sign of emotion. She didn’t even see a flicker of change.

“It’s got to mean something that you had some reactions,” she encouraged him aloud, hoping her voice would register with his subconscious.

She talked softly as she worked on getting him stabilized. She emptied his urine bag, reinserted his feeding tube, and fed him. The liquid diet wasn’t enough for a man his size but it kept him alive and nourished. She had to turn him on his side, not an easy task, to clean his back and change the padding under his hips. Nurses usually did the personal care tasks for patients. She hadn’t had to deal with it since her residency.

The blanket was firmly tucked around his body to keep him warm. She turned away to dump the water into the sink from the bucket she’d used to bathe him. It had sprinkled outside during the night but the sun shone brightly at the moment. It looked as if the storm wasn’t going to be as bad as the weather reporter had predicted.

Guilt tore at her a little as she nibbled on toast, sipped her coffee and sat at the table, regarding her patient. Medical at Homeland would be shortstaffed with her gone but 880 was her priority.

Ted Treadmont could handle any emergencies.

He might bitch about the extra hours but he had the assistance of a few Species who were training to be nurses. It wouldn’t be too taxing for him to cover her shifts.

She’d bet the five candy bars she’d packed that the NSO was looking for her at that very moment. All she could do was hope she’d covered her tracks well enough to buy at least a week to spend with 880. She’d place the call to tell them where they were in seven days if he didn’t improve.

Her hands trembled in response to wondering what they’d do to her when she made that call. It was one of those times she hoped good intentions came into play. She hadn’t stolen 880 to do him harm. Tiger had refused to consider her request and although it wasn’t exactly conventional treatment, New Species weren’t standard in any way.

They were genetically altered human hybrids and she needed to adjust to their special needs as their doctor.

Allison washed her plate, refilled her coffee cup and dragged a chair closer to the bed in the center of the room. She sat, used the table to hold her drink and sighed. “It’s going to be a long week, isn’t it?” Her teeth dented her lower lip but quickly released it, annoyed with the habit she seemed unable to break. “How about if I tell you a story? I didn’t have time to buy any books but I loved reading as a kid. Ever heard the story of Beauty and the Beast?” She paused, waited for an answer that she didn’t expect, but wanted to pretend he could answer. “It was my favorite story as a kid.” Her gaze lingered on his scarred face. She knew it was unethical to be attracted to 880 but she couldn’t help it. “Here it goes.”

Half an hour later she stopped, had expanded the story as much as she could, but didn’t want to wear out her voice. She left his side to unpack her bag but stayed in the living room. She checked his pulse every few hours.

“She’s using cash she withdrew from the bank to mask her trail.” Tim Oberto crossed his arms over his chest. “We are searching every motel within a two-hundred-mile radius. The dumps and dives don’t ask for identification or credit cards. We are watching all her family and known acquaintances. She hasn’t called them yet but we’ll be able to trace her when she does. We’ve tagged her driver’s license, her bank accounts, credit cards, and sent her photo out to trusted associates who will be searching for her.”

Tiger growled, enraged. “She has to have help hiding him.”

“I agree.” Justice frowned at the task team leader. “What else is being done, Tim?”

“Every law enforcement agency in ten states has been notified to be on the lookout for that rental truck. She may be trying to use it to keep them on the move, hoping it will be harder for us to find her. That’s true but with an APB out for all rental trucks matching that description, she’ll eventually be caught. They are all being pulled over and checked. We’ve hired more air support and they are searching for that truck. We’ll find her but it isn’t going as fast as we hoped. She’s smart.”

“It’s part of the reason I hired her.” Justice rolled his shoulders and his fingers flexed over his desk. “I am still stunned she did this. She was so timid.”

Destiny had joined the meeting due to his close association with Allison Baker. “I don’t believe she will purposely allow him to be harmed.”

Tim snorted. “She could have sold him to some bastard already or handed him over to one of the many anti-New Species groups out there. They’d love to have one of you and make up some lie. I can see the headlines now. They’ll probably say he’s carrying some disease that is communicable and harmful to the general population just to start a panic.”

Destiny snarled. “Doc Allison cares for us. She was upset when we denied her request to use a female’s scent to see if 880 would respond. I think that is why she took him and she is hoping to wake him. It wasn’t the right thing to do but I refuse to accept that she did it to give him to someone who would kill him or use him to do us harm.”

Tim shook his head. “I won’t be surprised when we get a call for ransom at the very least.”

He stared grimly at Justice. “I’d make funds available in case that happens. My team will handle the exchange. That’s the best outcome I can think of at this moment.” He paused. “We should release her photo to the news stations and let them know what his real condition is just in case I’m right. It’s better to cut the snake’s head off before we feel the bite of its venom. The last thing we need is the CDC showing up thinking we’re hiding some kind of disease or to have jackasses calling the White House to whine.”

“No.” Justice sat up straighter in his chair. “We don’t want anyone to know she kidnapped a Species. It would put a target on them for our enemies.”

“She’s already working with them.”

“Tim,” Tiger growled. “We’re stressed enough.

We’ve been over this and decided to avoid media attention. This is a Species matter until we know otherwise. The fewer who know, the better. We have to at least consider that the note she left was true. She may have taken 880 in some misguided attempt to help him. We’ll find them but we’ll do it as quietly as possible.”

“Fine.” Tim threw up his hands in frustration.

“Don’t listen to my advice. That’s just what you pay me for. If she’s so saintly then she’d call us when she sees her face plastered all over every channel, knowing how dangerous it just got out there for her.” He shot Destiny a glare. “Your Dr.

Allison is in deep shit.” He stared at Justice next.

“I’m not putting on kid gloves when we find her.

She kidnapped a New Species and put his life in danger.”

“I know.” Justice sighed. “Do whatever you need to, quietly, to recover our male.”

The female climbed into his bed, pressed against his side, and 880 was aware of her small size. More feeling had returned to his body but his limbs refused to answer his commands. Under the covers the fingers of his left hand curled though, a sign he had worked past the drugs paralyzing his body.

Why was the female sleeping next to him?

Where were the human males who tormented him daily? The mattress under him was different, softer than the one he’d grown accustomed to.

His sense of smell was slowly returning as well, with faint hints of unfamiliar things.

The female carried a sweet aroma…but strange. Her body heat wasn’t strong. She must be cold, but why didn’t she just leave his cell if the cooler temperatures bothered her? A horrifying thought crept into his mind. What if the human guards had forced a new female into his cell?

They’d once introduced 46 into his life by locking her inside his room. The technicians had told him she belonged to him. They wanted them to breed to see if having children was a possibility. They had been young at the time and he’d cared for her. They didn’t get along, both of them were strong willed, but they’d depended on each other. Her loss filled him with rage.

The technicians had sworn he could share a living space with 46 as long as he lived if he did as they ordered. He’d mostly agreed to their tests and hadn’t fought the technicians too often unless it became too painful. The consequences of those refusals had caused 46 harm. They used her to punish him by hitting her or giving her drugs that made her sick. It amused them to see him worry when his female grew weak. He’d learned quickly to suffer anything they did to him to protect her.

Things had changed though one day. They’d been drugged, moved while they slept, and had woken in a new place. He didn’t understand what they wanted from him anymore. The new technicians were crueler and they didn’t care if he obeyed or not. They’d taken 46 away despite his obedience, only to bring her back sick. Needle marks had assured him they’d given her drugs and she’d weakened. The food he fed her wouldn’t stay inside her stomach. He hadn’t done anything to anger them into killing her, yet they had.

A small hand slid over his chest and drew his attention. The new female’s touch was soft against him as she rubbed a small patch of skin over his heart. Her body pressed tighter to his side as she shivered, obviously cold, and used him for his body heat.

“Day one didn’t go so bad, did it? I just wish I’d thought to bring a radio or a television. You might enjoy listening to them instead of me.”

She rested her cheek on his chest near her hand and soft strands of her hair tickled his arm. “I’m kind of boring. I’m sorry about that. If you were awake, you’d probably say something like ‘Alli, please shut up’ or maybe ‘Alli, you need to get a life’.”

He pondered her words. She had a name but it was a strange one. He mentally repeated it a few times, trying to determine if he’d ever heard it before. Alli. It wasn’t familiar.

Silence stretched and he wiggled his toes. They twitched and hope flared that he’d battle off the effects of the drugs soon. He didn’t think he’d ever been down so long before and he was alarmed. Normally his body was strong but he didn’t feel that way at the moment. He detested weakness.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed but it gets cold here at night. I also worry without the machines monitoring you. I’m right here if you get into trouble and I’m a light sleeper. I figure you will also get accustomed to my scent better if I’m this close. I just wish you’d wake. I’d be so happy if that happened. I want you to sit up and talk to me.”

I would as well. He moved his fingers again.

His toes twitched. He held his breath a few seconds before continuing the steady rate, in case she noticed. She might alert the technicians and he decided to hide the fact that his body was recovering until he knew where he was, who she was, and why they’d put this new female with him.

Her hand slid a little lower to his ribs, explored them, and his body responded when blood filled his cock. It had been a long time since he’d shared sex—too long—and guilt welled inside him. 46 had died. He shouldn’t want to mount the new female.

“You’re really worrying me. I’d guess you’ve dropped a good forty pounds since you were brought to me. You’re a big guy but this isn’t healthy. Every day you stay down is just one more that it’s going to take you to recover. Please fight to come back. I know how sad you must be.” She paused. “I was really in love once but he died. I was such a mess for a long time after that so I get it. I honestly do. You wonder why you should keep living, what the point is, but I’m glad I kept going. He wouldn’t have wanted my life to end because his did.”

Her soft fingertips and palm slid higher to his heart. She burrowed tighter against his side and a soft breast pressed against his ribs. He breathed in her sweet scent—not arousal, but nice.

“He died suddenly. It was such a shock because he was so full of life.” Her voice changed as emotion softened it. “I shut down too for a few months. I never thought he could die, he was just too animated, and it was beyond imaginable that anything could take him away from me. We had planned to spend the rest of our lives together until that car accident.”

A warm, wet drop landed on his skin and he realized that she cried. It stunned him and left him disconcerted. He inhaled slowly and tried to pick up any sick smell, but didn’t get anything but the sweetness he had begun to associate with the female.

“I admit I’ve kept anyone from getting too close to me since then. I don’t want to risk feeling so much just to suffer that kind of pain again. Of course as the years pass I realize I’m going to be that crazy lady with twenty-five cats if I don’t get over it.”

The surprise of her tears turned to confusion fast as he listened to her words. She didn’t make much sense. What does that even mean? He wasn’t sure.

“I’ll get over it if you come out of this healthy.

You have to fight, 880. You need to know that life is worth living. It’s worth the risk. Look at what I did trying to save you.”

He waited for her to explain that but she didn’t speak for a long time. He wanted to know what she’d done for him.

“You’ve got to come out of this.” More tears wet his skin. “I have a feeling that I’m going to be in really big trouble over stealing you from the NSO. They will probably lock me up and throw away the key.”

She’d stolen him? How? Many questions filled his mind, quickly developing into hundreds. How had she taken him from his cell? How had she escaped in the first place? Why had she burdened herself with him? She didn’t feel big enough to carry him.

He couldn’t remember anything past the day 46 had been murdered. His rage had taken hold and he’d attacked the bars. He’d refused to give up trying to reach the humans who’d killed her no matter how much he’d damaged his body.

One thing became clear. This female wasn’t his enemy. At least he hoped that was true. She could have been forced to try to lull him into a sense of trust only to calm his rage at their captors. They’d need to find a new way to control him if they still needed him.

The fingers of his left hand actually fisted and he squeezed. He wasn’t going to allow the female to know he was regaining the use of his body.

He’d remain meek, wait for the perfect moment when he was stronger and strike then. Their captors would pay for what they’d done to him, 46, and the female at his side.

She yawned and nuzzled her cheek against him where her head rested. He knew when she drifted to sleep as her breathing slowed. His left foot moved.