Ely was as stubborn as any Breed male, especially when it came to running her labs and her research.
“I have to leave then.” The enforcer sighed. “I still have rounds to make and then I’ll be back.”
Mica gave a quick nod, then sat silently on the gurney as she waited. She saw several of the cameras on the walls above her, no doubt recording every breath she took and her temperature; they would be reading her thoughts if Jonas Wyatt could get the cameras to actually do it.
“Well, did Dr. Ely know you were coming?”
Mica swung around, terror racing through her at the sound of Brandenmore’s rough voice penetrating the room and scraping across the senses.
She came off the gurney, nearly stumbling and falling to the floor before catching herself in a crouch instead.
She stared around the room, eyes wide, her heart racing in her chest as she fought against the overwhelming fear of facing him again.
Mica knew that the only reason she had survived her last encounter with him had been the Breeds surrounding them at the time. There were no Breeds now. There was just Mica and whatever weapon she might be able to find.
“I believe I might even be able to smell your fear,” the voice commented as a section of wall slid open across from her. “I like that scent, Mica. It smells especially good on you, little girl. Sweet and subtle.”
Mica stared at the glass-enclosed cell in surprise. She had never seen where the Breeds kept their prisoners they were rumored to have. She had only known that they did indeed keep them. And now, she knew what their quarters looked like.
A twelve-by-twelve cell with white walls, a narrow bed, a vid- and halo-screen high on the wall and a partially enclosed shower on the other end.
Pretty swanky compared to the filthy cells and open toilets the Breeds were forced to use in most of the labs they were kept in. Few of them had had any conveniences outside of a mat or mattress to sleep on until they were old enough to put their training into use. Then, and only then, were they given decent sleeping areas or food in exchange for the services, or the killings, they were required to provide.
And in the cases of those Brandenmore targeted, they had known nothing but the agony and horror of being nothing more than research projects.
Slowly, Mica eased up from the crouch and stared back at him in fascination. She knew for a damned fact he was more than eighty years old. But he looked no older than his early thirties, and if not for the evil glowing in his eyes, he wouldn’t have been bad looking. But that evil was there. In his gaze, in his expression, in the very air around him as they stared at each other across the distance.
Phillip Brandenmore shook his head somberly. “I can’t believe I had you in my grip and allowed you to live.” He sighed in regret. “Your life is one of those that’s considered to be one of importance among the Wolves. You do know there was a price on your head by the Breed’s enemies, right?”
“So I’ve been told,” Mica answered as she watched Brandenmore shove his hands into the pockets of the overly large pants he wore while his shirt seemed to hang on his well-muscled shoulders.
His smile was cunning and filled with sinister delight. “I helped put it there, you know. As the freak’s favorite friend, you would be invaluable. What would she do to protect you?”
Mica knew the answer to that. Cassie would kill to save her, or she would die for her. The same as Mica would do for Cassie. There was no other option. They were too close to ever allow the other to be harmed if they could stop it.
Mica didn’t tell Brandenmore that though, she just stared back at him silently, almost fascinated with the monster he had become and the fact that she was facing him.
“Excuse me for not dressing in my finest,” he said, excusing himself drolly. “But then again, I guess this can be called my finest, can’t it?” He leaned his shoulder against the glass, a dark brown eyebrow arching as he stared at her arrogantly. “Well, aren’t you going to talk? Don’t you think I get sick of listening to these pissant little Breeds? I’d like to talk to a human for once. Someone with more personality than a cat or a dog.”
Mica wanted nothing more than to leave to escape the vile sense of evil he filled a room with. He was a bastard and he knew it. Hell, he reveled in it.
“I can’t think of a single human or Breed that would want to discuss anything with you,” she told him, fascinated by the reptilian air Brandenmore seemed to possess. There was no way to hide what he was now. Despite the charm, despite the good looks, that aura of evil still surrounded him, still acted as a warning so heavy, a premonition so painful, that humans and Breeds alike were affected.
“How little you know,” he sneered, though he was clearly enjoying himself. “I knew several who would like to talk to you as well, my dear. About several matters. Your little mating anomalies as well as the fact that you’re the best friend to one of the most unique Breeds living. Tell me, if I kill you, what happens to her?”
Mica could only shake her head. “You would die and Cassie would shed a few tears, nothing more.
There’s no way to hurt Cassie enough to destroy her. Her parents have done too good of a job in teaching her to protect herself and her heart.”
Brandenmore merely grimaced, though his gaze was filled with amusement. “My my, you’re not very important to anyone, are you, little girl?”
“Oh, I’m sure I am,” Mica drawled, though she was just as certain that those few were only her parents.
It would destroy her parents, but there was no lover, no sister, no brother. She would quickly be forgotten.
“I’m obviously important to you,” she stated. “Those were your men that attacked me in New York, wasn’t it?”
“Of course,” he admitted. “They would have traded your life for mine.” He stared around the exam room, his face pinching into a look of distaste. “They’re letting me die here.” He turned back and glared at her. “With you, I could have had my freedom.”