this case, the subject is a known child predator,” Friedrich prattles on.
“We’re offering payment to child predators now?”
“No. We offered payment to the prison that incarcerated him.” He drifts across the room toward the monitors, studying the various waves onscreen. “There is no criminal more despised than the child predator. It’s interesting that this particular segment of our species garners the justification of violent retribution. Even the most empathetic human being can muster the apathy to watch these individuals suffer.” Still wearing a smile, he glances back at me. “We like to use them as a control group. And if it helps your conscience to know, they never leave the Institute.” As he makes his way back toward me, I catch the other lab coat heating up the metal rod for round number two. “This is what your funding has provided. Each room focuses on a particular sadistic behavior. The next room over is sexual sadism. Would you like to see?”
“No. I wouldn’t. I fail to see how this is considered science, at all.”
“These individuals are homozygous for a particular genotype--”
I raise a hand and shake my head. “I don’t need a dissertation. I’ll be honest with you, Friedrich. I don’t give two fucks what you hope to learn from all of this. I’ll keep providing the funding, because my father willed it and, to your advantage, put someone other than me as an executor on it. But I want no part of this shit-show anymore.”
Rand would be puking his guts onto the clean white floors right now, if I’d brought him with me.
Glad I didn’t.
“Who, um … who do you think you’re talking to Lucian?” It’s uncanny the way this guy’s smile never falters, even when it’s clear I’ve slapped him in the face with insult. “Do you think you’re talking to one of your father’s employees? This shit-show, as you called it, can bury you without anyone noticing you’re gone.”
“Then, why haven’t you yet?” With a smirk, I tip my head. “Oh. That’s right. Because the funding only lasts so long as there is an heir. Meaning, it dies when I die. You have some very powerful connections, no doubt, but face it, no one was as committed as my father.” Slipping my hands in my pockets, I take another step toward him, invading his personal space. “Don’t ever threaten me again.”
Clearing his throat, he steps back. “Very well. Quarterly meetings. That’s all I ask. And the occasional medical update. You don’t have to participate in the experimental studies.”
“I’ll think about it.” I pat him on the shoulder, catching his flinch, and exit the room.
There was a time this place weaved nightmares like a spider’s web, always present on the edge of my brain, waiting to wrap me up in its terrifying fibers.
Now, it can’t touch me.
When I finally reach my car, I find two texts from Rand on my phone. At first, I think he’s going to respectfully rail into me for what he’d surely consider another disastrous meeting, but his second text instructs me to check my email. When I open it, I find the remaining report that I requested of him last week. The more extensive research into Isa’s past.
One of the documents is a police report describing the attack at the party, mostly true to what she narrated, but there’s something new.
Something I had my suspicions about.
Something she’s managed to keep hidden away.
I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I flip through the other attached documents: therapists notes from her weekly sessions.
My raven beauty is far more dangerous than I imagined.
Darkness settles over the manor as I make my way up the staircase, the anticipation burning through me, even after a three hour flight. The box tucked beneath my arm is a gift, and one I spent far too much time choosing, just before I left Vermont.
The door to Isa’s room is closed, and when I click it open, the lights are off inside. Cracking it open just enough to slip through, I find her sleeping form stretched out on the bed, the sight of her stirring a sinister craving for soft moans, nails, and teeth. Coming to a stand alongside her bed, I set the box aside and lean down to kiss along the smooth curve of her neck.
A twitch of movement, and she startles awake, flipping onto her back. Silvery bands of moonlight shimmer across her face, drawing my attention to full pouty lips I want to bite.
I’m convinced