The Breeding Experiment - Laurann Dohner Page 0,11

every inch closely. The cell wasn’t like the last one. That had just been a room with nothing but floor, walls, and a ceiling. This one had that upright torture device, the exam bed—where she figured bad things took place—and along the wall was a cleanup area. There was a sink-like vessel in the corner, with supplies piled up at the end of the counter attached to it. She got to her feet and went over to inspect them.

Most of the supplies were folded towels, some liquid that, based on smell, might be soap, or maybe some kind of cleanser for—

It hit her then.

The cell was for torturing their victims.

She didn’t want to think too much about that—or about how that sink may be where the evil aliens cleaned blood from their tentacles after brutalizing their victims.

“Monsters,” she mouthed, playing with the faucet, testing ways to turn it on until clear water poured out of it.

She grabbed one of the little towels and wet it, making sure the liquid was indeed water by tasting it first—better her than Gnaw, at this point—and then rushed back to him.

First, she cleaned his wound and got his head to stop bleeding. She also adjusted his body until he looked more comfortable. Lastly, she grabbed more towels to fold under his head as a pillow of sorts. There was no way she’d be able to lift him up onto that exam bed. It had padding but was taller than any she’d ever seen before. Then again, the aliens with their tentacles were taller than most humans.

“We’re going to be okay,” she crooned to him. “Just open your eyes.”

Had they seriously hurt him? The small cut on his head had already stopped bleeding. The skin had split a little, but it wasn’t bad. He might need a stitch or two, but she had no way to do that. Her medical knowledge wasn’t vast. Having two brothers had necessitated basic first-aid lessons, though. Boys were always getting hurt.

She ran her fingers through the thick hair on the top of his head. One of his pointed ears twitched when the side of her thumb brushed it. She hesitated before gently exploring it. He had cartilage in his ear like a human, but it was as velvety-soft as his skin. Warm.

She studied his face. He wasn’t nearly as scary looking while sleeping, with his features relaxed. His lips were fuller than hers and his nose a bit longer. Even his eyelashes were thicker and fuller than a human’s. She stroked his cheek, liking the feel of his warm skin.

“I’m here, Gnaw. Please wake up.”

He slept on.

She kept touching him, hoping to rouse him from sleep by playing with his black hair and caressing his cheeks. Her thoughts frequently went to her sister. She hoped the aliens weren’t hurting Becky.

Depression and guilt came with that thought. She’d fled Radison to keep her little sister safe. Instead, she’d taken her away from one danger and right into another.

* * * * *

Gnaw woke but remained still. The last moments of his memory returned in a flash, and he strained all his senses.

Soft, small hands were on him, and he could hear light breathing that wasn’t his own. He inhaled through his nose, identifying the scent as that of the female human from the shuttle. Darla was still inside his cell.

Her fingers were buried in his hair above his ears, her tiny, dull claw tips gently massaging his scalp. It felt nice. Her other hand was near his jaw, rubbing against his skin lightly enough to almost tickle. He lay flat on his back, his head on something thin but softer than the rest of the surface under him. He inhaled again. The Elth scent lingered but it was faint.

“Where was I…?”

Darla’s low voice almost startled him, but he managed to control his body by not revealing himself to be awake yet.

“That’s why I got us fleet jobs. I had to get Becky off that dratted planet.”

“Where are they?” He tried not to move his mouth as he whispered.

She froze briefly, then resumed running her fingers through his hair. When she spoke, she whispered back. “We’re alone but I think I see cameras. Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes and sat up, staring around the room. They were still inside his cell. More like an exam room. He got to his feet, his chest and ribs aching from whatever they’d hit him with, but otherwise he felt fine. He also had