far. University students willing to join medical studies for a little money, prostitutes, the homeless...drug addicts, if we're desperate.
Well, shit, Tegan drawled, full of sarcasm. This is a real class operation you got here.
No harm done to anyone, generally speaking, Kuhn said with an annoyed smile. The procedures are very closely monitored and none of our recruited Hosts maintain a single memory afterward. We simply return them to their lives with a little cash in their pocket that they wouldn't have had otherwise. A little time spent here is the best thing to happen to some of the unfortunates we collect as donors.
Tegan was ready to spit a cutting remark at the pompous Darkhaven male, but it had been less than twenty-four hours since he himself had been hunting for blood on Berlin's darkened streets. He'd killed, even though he could justify it with the knowledge that there was one less human criminal around to violate a defenseless woman. But that didn't make him a saint by any stretch. At heart, all of the Breed were self-serving, ruthless predators. Some just attempted to hide the fact behind sterile white walls and a fleet of clinical equipment.
There now, the facility director announced when a small beep sounded on the console near the viewing window. The feeding procedure is complete. As soon as the patient is alone and resting, we can go in.
They waited as Odolf was disconnected from his feeding tube. The vampire fought the removal, his insatiable blood addiction making him snap and growl behind the wire-mesh face mask as the attendants cut off his supply. He struggled against his body restraints, but the effort was sluggish and ineffective, no doubt from the sedatives Kuhn had mentioned earlier.
The Rogue's dermaglyphs were still seething from deep purples to red to black, the colors of ferocious hunger traveling along the pattern of markings that ran up his bare chest and over his shoulders.
His huge fangs flashed bone white with his sudden roar of protest. His pupils were fixed into vertical slits, the irises throwing off a blast of amber light every time he tried to raise his big head up off the table. Even though he was drugged, the taste of blood had inflamed him to the point of madness--as it did all Rogues.
Tegan ought to know. He'd lived a similar thirsting, angry as hell himself. He hadn't progressed as far Rogue as this male, thankfully, but he'd come damn close. Seeing this blood- addicted male up close was a strong reminder of what those dark months Tegan had fought to shake off his own weakness had been like.
As Petrov Odolf rattled his bonds in futility, his Breedmate got up off the table beside him and cautiously approached where he lay. She kept her hands at her sides, even though it was clear from the anguish in her eyes that she longed to touch her mate. She said something too quiet to be heard over the cell's audio monitors, then she turned away and walked toward the door of the observation room, wiping tears from her freckled cheeks. Kuhn opened the door for her, and she seemed startled to see that she'd had an audience. Her face flamed red, and her downcast gaze said it was in shame. Pardon me, she murmured, trying to make a beeline for the outside hallway.
Are you all right? Elise asked gently.
The Breedmate gave a wobbly nod. A sob hitched in her throat, broken and raw. Will you excuse me, please?
This way, Director Kuhn said as the Rogue's female slipped out of their company and headed down the corridor. I can permit you no more than ten minutes with him, Madam Chase. And I must reiterate that I think it best if the warrior--
Actually, Elise said, her voice full of confident authority, I would like Tegan to conduct the interview without me.
Wha--Without you? Kuhn's brows crashed together furiously. That was not the term of our arrangement at all.
It is now. I'm not about to let that poor woman leave here in such a state of distress, she said, then glanced at Tegan. Tegan will speak with Petrov Odolf. I trust him in this, Director Kuhn, and you can too.
She didn't wait to hear the facility head sputter his disagreement, just strode out of the observation room and went after Odolf 's distraught Breedmate like a guided missile in a designer suit and stilettos.
Tegan was tempted to smile, but instead he turned a flat gaze on Kuhn.
After you,