Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33658 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
He means I’ll be a sex experiment, but I block out my fear of such a thing. “If you really want answers, punishing me for speaking up and killing off Milton before I know his usefulness is wasting time.”
Julian grimaces, but surprises me by waving at Dorian. “Give him the drug.”
“As you wish, Father,” Dorian complies, approaching Milton, the evil he reeks of ravishing me with dread of his nearness. A sense of something not being right settles hard in my stomach. Dorian grabs a handful of Milton’s hair and jerks his head backward, shoving a pill in his mouth.
Oh God. Panic rushes through me. “That wasn’t ICE! What did you give him?”
Dorian’s attention settles hard on me, callousness beyond his age etching his finely carved features as he slams Milton’s face into the table.
My stomach rolls at the hard crash of skull against wood.
“Lady,” Dorian says, tilting his head to study me as if I were a specimen to be evaluated. “I’ve given him what you wished for. He will suffer no more. This should please you.”
Milton convulses and falls off the chair to the ground.
“What does that mean?” I scream at them, the wolves snarling at me and warning me to hold my position. “What does that mean, he won’t suffer anymore?” I turn a pleading stare on Julian. “Julian, please! Please, help him. I’ll do anything you want.”
“You’ll do what I want, regardless,” he replies. “But it’ll be without him. He’s dead. And you are not the only scientist here with your expertise. But you are female, and I do not wish you dead, just motivated. So here is your motivation. Every time I feel you are failing me, I will kill one of the humans. And you are failing me. Consider Milton’s blood on your hands, Layla.”
I choke on my own breath, and this time it has nothing to do with cancer. This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself this is a nightmare. I’ll wake up soon. It must be the side effects from the treatments in Germany.
A shift in the air has my eyes flying open, and suddenly, Julian is in front of me, the wolves parting to allow him to stand almost on top of me. I gasp, shocked at his nearness. He doesn’t touch me, yet I can almost feel his hands on my throat. I try to move, but it’s as if I’m frozen in place.
“I suggest you get to work,” Julian bites out, his voice low and poisonous. “Before I decide to kill another human simply because…well, it’s entertaining. Especially when I watch you worry for them.” He pauses as if for effect, then asks, “Am I clear?”
“Yes,” I whisper, but the word is barely audible.
For several seconds, he studies me, his features stony and intense. “Then do it,” he finally says. “And I’ll leave Milton here to remind you of the consequences of displeasing me.”
He gives me his back, his wolves following on his heels. Dorian falls into step beside his father, but not before casting me a mocking glance. The boy is pure evil. Born evil. Growing more so with each passing day.
And when I’m certain this day can’t get any worse—a second before the doors close—Tad’s big, obnoxious self steps inside.
“Good news, Layla. Sweetie. Darling. Honey bunch. We have some quality time together. I’m to look out for you.” He smiles and winks. Then he walks over to Milton and shoves him aside before claiming his chair. “You heard Julian,” he says. “Let’s get to work.” The doors open again, and I count six scientists in lab coats entering the room. We’re a regular assembly line of submission.
Anger, pain, and yes, fear collide inside me with a force so mighty, I think I might collapse. Something happens with that force inside me. Energy crackles in the air, and glass shatters in various locations of the lab. It’s as if my emotions are alive, like electricity in the air. My head spins, and my chest tightens. What is happening to me? Remotely, I hear Tad curse, then he’s on the floor, and so are the other scientists. They just drop like rocks and hit the concrete with hard thuds.
But I don’t.
What is happening?!
My fist balls at my chest, willing my heart to calm, but my hand is unsteady, shaky. I force myself to inhale and exhale and count to ten slowly. The dizziness subsides, and the room comes back into focus.
Then, and only then, do I scold myself for standing still. I race to Milton’s side and roll him over, cringing at his blank, open eyes as I check for a pulse I know I won’t find.
My stomach lurches, and I reach up to close his eyes. More glass around the room shatters as I whisper, “I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” But I don’t cry. The pain isn’t nearly as fierce as the anger eating me alive.