Hard To Bear (Blue Moon Junction, #3)

He caught her eye. “I’m sorry, Coral,” he moaned. “I’m so stupid. I’m such an idiot.”


Yes, you are, Coral thought. “It’s not your fault,” she said, her words thick and slurred.

Yes, it is, you idiot, she thought.

Coral realized that she recognized the shifter on the table to her right, from the picture on Mrs. Kirby’s mantelpiece.

“Marie?” she called out.

Marie twisted her head to look at her. There were dark circles under her eyes.

“Do I know you?” she asked, bewildered.

“No, I’m a reporter. I was investigating your disappearance. Well, I was trying to,” she added. Inwardly, she seethed. She just wanted sixty seconds alone with Melinda. That was all she’d need.

“You’re here because of me? I’m sorry.” Marie’s voice was weak and sad. “They’re going to kill us all after the comet goes by. Dissect us.”

Coral felt a spasm of terror, and nausea twisted her stomach. Was she really going to die? Would anyone find them?

She got her answer, in the form of a weak voice calling from across the room. “Coral,” Maybelle called. “Are you all right?”

Coral had to twist her head painfully to see; Blanche and Maybelle were there, strapped to tables.

Coral’s heart plunged to the bottom of her stomach. Blanche and Maybelle had been her only hope of rescue, and they’d been captured.

Sure, Bettina had eavesdropped and so she knew that Coral and Frederick had headed into Metamorph territory…but by the time she realized they were missing and alerted the authorities, it would be far too late.

“Well, hello, look who’s awake,” a familiar voice said. She twisted her head around to see Dr. De Rossi walking towards her, wearing a white physician’s jacket. He’d accessorized with a gun holster which he wore outside the jacket. He paused by her table.

“You. You sonofabitch. You work for Metamorph,” she said, her voice slurry.

He made a polite half-bow. “I’m head of the research department, in fact. And you’re the nosy wolf who has been giving us so much grief. No matter, you’ll end up helping us accomplish our goals today.”

“What the hell is going on down here?” she said. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, you might as well satisfy my journalistic curiosity.”

“Why not?” he said. “It’s nothing personal, you understand. We’re happy you came here today. We can use you as one of our control subjects.”

“Subjects for what?”

“There’s a comet passing overhead that will cause a flare-up of power in the ley lines which are directly beneath us. Hundreds of years ago, it caused countless humans to develop the power to shift into animal form at will.”

“I know that. But why kidnap the original shifters? What does that benefit you?” Coral’s head felt thick as cotton and she had to struggle to speak without slurring.

“We theorize that these shifters, with their superior bloodlines, will be even more powerful than regular shifters when exposed to the combination of Archibald’s comet and the ley-line intersection. Did you know it’s going to pass even closer to Earth this time than it did in the 1800s? It should cause an even more powerful flare-up in the ley lines. It should increase these descendants’ power and strength exponentially. It will also be fascinating to see how the comet affects our human test subjects, and our other shifter subjects such as yourself. We’ll extract most of your blood over the next few days, and then dissect you.”

He spoke eagerly, eyes shining with excitement, as if he were pitching a new product to investors. “We’ll be able to synthesize the properties of your blood and use it on human mercenaries, to turn them into hyper-powerful killing machines. And it’s quite possible that I, and all of these human soldiers here, will be able to shift after the comet passes.”

“You’re completely frickin’ crazy,” Coral hissed, furious.

“Tell that to the governments who are competing to be the first to purchase our Supershifter solution.”

Several uniformed men walked up to them, and Coral recognized them as the men who’d accompanied Melinda in the woods where she’d been captured.

One of them stepped forward, saluting smartly.

“Garcia. Are your men ready? Any sign of intruders?” Dr. De Rossi asked.

“No, sir, but I still feel you should abort the operation.” Garcia scowled at Dr. De Rossi. “The risk of exposure is too great. You’re putting all of my men in danger by-”

There was a shockingly loud explosion, and a look of surprise flashed across Garcia’s face as a huge hole opened in his chest. The bang of the gunshot echoed in the room, and Garcia crumpled and fell silently to the floor, his chest a mangled ruin.

De Rossi turned to one of the other men, pointing his pistol at him. “Nelson. You’re promoted. Do you have any objection to this operation continuing?”

“No, sir,” the man said, a greenish tinge coloring his features as he deliberately avoided looking down at his fallen comrade.

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