“Is everyone a doctor around here?”
Mom let out a little chuckle. “I see she hasn’t lost her sarcasm.”
Some things were innate, including my sudden intuition that this was more than just a family reunion. Dr. Marks wanted my blood. Why else would he have a syringe and a couple of vials on his tray?
“Is this necessary?” I asked, retreating and suddenly thinking my prison on the seven floor wasn’t so bad.
“I’m afraid so, Muffin. Everyone that steps foot into the Institute must go through the screening process. It’s no big deal. Standard procedure,” Dr. Winston assured me.
I snorted. The large syringe sitting on the surgical tray said otherwise. I hated needles. “I’d rather not.”
“You don’t have a choice. You were out there for weeks. This is for your own good,” my father said in a steady voice.
“Don’t worry,” Mom added, patting my hand. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I haven’t forgotten how much needles upset you.”
Upset? Upset put it mildly. I once puked my Happy Meal all over a nurse who had tried to give me a shot. “There is nothing wrong with me,” I insisted, tugging my hand from underneath hers. “And I refuse to be used as a lab rat.”
Dr. Winston frowned. “You’re being difficult, Charlotte. There is no reason to make a scene.”
Damn right I would make a scene. If it got me out of being poked or losing unnecessary blood, I was going to raise the roof in this place. I’d already been stuck with one of their needles. “How do I know you’re not going to inject me again with some kind of drug?”
“I told you that was only to protect you. There is no danger inside the Institute. If you cooperate, there will be no need for other methods.”
That did nothing to calm my anxiety. Not. At. All.
The two guards came to stand on either side of me, each placing a hand on my arm. “Struggle,” Trist whispered in my ear, “I dare you.” Something in his voice told me he would like that … a little too much.
I elbowed the asshole in the gut, my heart rate soaring.
Shit went sideways at that point.
Not that it mattered. I wouldn’t be able to overpower them, and yet, it didn’t stop me from trying. A pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind like vise grips. The dark inky veins were a dead giveaway. Trist. I kicked and bucked, but it was wasted energy.
“Let’s make this quick,” I heard my mother say.
Pressure clamped down on my chest, signaling I stood on the brink of a panic attack. There was a quick sting in my shoulder. I jerked, letting out a squeal. I’d been jabbed with a needle, and the drugs they injected began to ribbon into my system. In less than a minute, the room spun, going dark, and then it was lights out for Charlotte.
When I woke, I lay on a table, staring into a bright white light. My arm muscles were sore, and I rubbed at them, trying to chase away the pain. I’d gotten my exam after all. I just hadn’t been conscious, and honestly, that scared me more than the needles. Hindsight was a bitch.
In a numb haze, I sat up. Talk about one hell of a screwed up reunion. Hi, honey, I know it’s been a hundred years and I missed you, but before we catch up, how about you give me a tube of blood?
Did they have a therapist on staff? Because I needed a lifetime of sessions to get over the crap that was happening to me.
And the worst part? It had only begun.
Chapter Three
“You’re awake and just fine. See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Dr. Winston sat in a corner chair in my room, a binder of paperwork in his lap.
My mouth dropped open, wide enough that a glassfly could have flown right in with no problem.
Was he on crack? My father had definitely snorted something, and God only knew what kind of substances the world had now. “You lied to me,” I hurled at him.
A pitiless and unrepentant look crossed his face. “If you hadn’t acted out, there would have been no need to sedate you.”
“So it was my fault.” I sighed, giving up the argument. I would never win. I couldn’t do anything about it now. Whatever they had done was done. My eyes glanced to the binder of papers, and I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look. I swear I read something that closely resembled my name.
He gathered the paperwork together, shifting it so I couldn’t see what was on top. “Well, now that it is over, let’s get back to it, shall we?”
I kept my lips sealed and hopped off the table. Until I gained control of the fury inside me, I would say nothing, because if I did, two things could happen. I might cry, or I might go off the deep end. Neither had a positive outcome.
My two guards were posted outside my door as we stepped into the hall. Trist and… I didn’t know what the other man was called. My eyes slid to the nameless guard. Outwardly, he showed no signs of mutation. He stood taller than both my father and Trist. The Night’s Guard uniform brought out flecks of blue in his hazel eyes. There was a twinkle in them that led me to believe he found me amusing for reasons I couldn’t fathom.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Raze.” What a voice. It was smooth and sexy.
“Raze?” I echoed. “Like maze with an R?”
His lips twitched. “Hot, right?”
A crazy, I’m-losing-it laugh bubbled up my throat, but I covered it with a cough. “If you think so.” I crossed my arms.
The two guards and my father sent me a look.
I took a deep breath, telling myself to get a grip. You need to keep your wits, Charlotte. That I did.
Dr. Winston gave me a long, level stare, as if I was exhausting him. “We should have the blood tests back tomorrow, but overall, you’re as fit as a fiddle.”
“Wonderful.”
“There is one more thing I would like to show you. It will give you a chance to see what the Institute is really about.”
We took the elevator to the ground floor, which opened to a lobby that split into two halls. The sheer mass of this place was impressive, but I was about to find out the size of the building wasn’t it’s only notable feature.
Dr. Winston stopped at a large double door. To the right hung a control panel on the wall with a keypad and a series of lights. He punched in a combination that turned the lights all green before the doors made a clicking noise. “Welcome to the combat room.”