Dr. Chaunders watched as fresh cracks formed around the flesh that should have been lips. The juice oozing from those fissures in the raw skin looked too dark to be blood. Williams paid no attention to the scrutiny from the other man in the room. He was deep in thought.
Creed could be the perfect subject for his next level of testing. Just for the sheer joy of it, a certain idea had been spinning wildly in his sadistic mind. The thought occurred to him a couple of months back when nostalgia had him remembering the bird’s nest he found as child. Cracking open the shells to study the wet, giant-eyed, unhatched embryonic birds inside brought his first thrill. Maybe, after all this time, he just needed to get back to basics. Maybe he just needed to recreate a similar situation where he could—investigate the inner workings of an embryo. And what would be more interesting than a metahuman embryo? Yes, the idea made the corners of his mouth curl is anticipation.
This young man, whether he remembered it or not, cherished family. And though he had no memory of his treachery, he still needed to be justly punished.
Yes, I think he would be the perfect specimen for his next line of testing, Dr. Williams cooed to himself imagining the torment on the soldier’s face when he realized what was in store for him.
“I will allow the metasoldier to awaken after we perform one last procedure. But, once he is awakened, keep him in seclusion. I don’t want him in contact with any other metas. Tell him he is being punished for his disobedience at the Match and is to follow a rigorous training regime to rebuild his body to peak performance.” The Director smiled his wide, toothless grin.
“And tell the team I require a meeting with them all in exactly one hour in the conference room. I’ll explain the required procedure then.” The last he said even as he strode out of the lab. He had some plotting to do and was very excited at the idea.
He slipped the two spheres into the front pocket of his three-piece suit and removed his handkerchief. The scent was stronger than he had felt it in months. There it was—his strawberries and lilies, coming to visit him.
He patted the flesh that should have been his nose, blocking all outside smells for a moment and just breathed. Yes. It was definitely her. His sweet daughter, in all her innocence, had come to pay him a call.
How considerate of her!
Williams walked briskly from the hospital, across the courtyard and into his administration building. He never noticed the wide girth everyone at the Facility gave him when he was out among his soldiers. It didn’t even occur to him to notice the grimaces at his appearance. None of that mattered to Williams. He thought on such an ethereal level; the peons around him may as well have been gnats.
The whole way up the elevator to his third-floor office suite, he imagined his beautiful daughter he gifted so many years before. Once seated at his obscenely large mahogany desk, the doctor leaned back and closed his eyes, concentrating on the connection he felt with the girl whose dark eyes absorbed the world around her. He imagined her dark hair spilling around her face in untamed waves and curls as wild and thick as her emotions. In his mind’s eye, he clung to the delicious innocence of the girl, savored her, feeding on her purity of spirit. And in return, he gave her more gifts than he ever shared with anyone before: he showed her his favorite memories. He held nothing back in his communal reverie. His strawberries and lilies reacted with anguish to each new image he shared, causing the doctor to giggle with double the joy at both the memory, and her abhorrence of it.
His little girl was changing. He could taste it as he savored her presence in his mind. Some of him was rubbing off on her. The thought thrilled him to no end. He held her tightly in his mind. Held her eyes open so she had to watch the gifted images, moments in time, with absolute attention to detail.
Chapter 22 Love Bites
When Meg woke, her face was wet.
She reached to wipe away her tears and felt shooting pain in her forearm.
Holding her arm up to her eyes, she saw a reddening, angry bite mark shaped exactly like her best friend’s flesh tearing teeth.
“Ow, Maze!” She groaned at him. He was lying across her lap.
The cunning-eyed coyote looked at her indignantly as if to say, if you’re stupid enough to let yourself get sucked into that blackness, then don’t you dare judge me by how I get you out.
“Did you have to bite so hard?” she asked him, as though he would answer.
It was only then she looked around the room. Alik was standing nearest to her on her right, chest rising and falling rapidly like he’d just sprinted. Evan was at the foot of the bed, hazel eyes wide with fear. Cole was pacing the room, hands on his shapely hips. Her mother was on her left, carefully draping a robe over Meg’s exposed shoulders. Margo’s face was drawn; worry lines etched deeply across her brow.