Know Thine Enemy

CHAPTER Ten



When she opened her eyes, she saw a mattress in the room.

Izzie wasn't sure how much of the night she'd actually slept. Strange dreams had followed her around every bend, and, when she wasn't plagued by the unknown phantoms of her psyche, she twisted and jerked awake only to remember where she was and why she was here. There was no escape—not from the ghostly sight of Harrison in her head nor her new unsettling reality.

The mattress was at least an improvement, though she had no doubt today's tests would up yesterday's ante. Her insides twisted, but her mind remained focused. More tests meant more interludes with Ryker. It meant being not alone, and right now she hated alone.

Briggs entered the room a few minutes after she stirred, a plate of toast in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He flashed her a wide smile.

"Good morning, Subject Beta. Did you sleep well?"

Izzie pulled the blanket they'd given her over her shoulders, flinching when her stomach growled. She didn't want him to know how hungry she was, or how little last night's soup had sustained her. Whatever he gave her was tainted and she'd only take what she needed in order to survive. Anything else was a luxury.

"I suggest you eat up," Briggs said, placing her breakfast on the table. "The next test commences in an hour."

Izzie waited until he was gone before leaping to her feet. She knew eating fast wouldn't make matters better, but, damn, she was hungry and nothing could stop her from cramming the bread down her throat. She paused only to breathe, then downed the glass of milk in a single gulp.

There was a fat steak with her name on it once she was free. And a huge side order of fries and a vanilla shake.

When she was done picking at crumbs, Izzie retreated to the mattress. Her tired muscles sighed in relief against the cushioning. Hopefully Briggs would let her keep it beyond today's session. There seemed little point in making the human test subject as uncomfortable as possible, but, with her lack of clothes and nothing but the floor to sleep on, he had succeeded in ensuring every nook in her body whined and ached with movement. Sleeping on a mattress would be a godsend.

Time moved neither fast nor slowly, though when her thoughts turned to Ryker her heart skipped a little. Izzie sat under the false security of her blanket until the buzzing outside her room again climbed to a crescendo. She waited for someone to strap her to the table as they had previously, but no one came. Lights flickered inside the observation panel and muffled voices sounded on the other side of the door. She heard Briggs talking, and her skin grew hot once she realized he had to be addressing Ryker.

Then the door opened and her vampire was ushered inside.

He looked much like he had the day before. His dark hair was ruffled, his complexion pale, his chest missing a shirt, and his eyes gobbling her up as though they'd been separated much longer than a night. He seemed guarded but didn't say a word. Rather, he studied her with such intent it left her shaking with anticipation.

Izzie pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Somehow, at once, she felt more naked with her coverlet than she had yesterday.

"Good morning," came over the intercom. Izzie turned her attention to the observation panel, where Briggs sat with his two assistants. "This marks day two of our trial study. You will note Subject Beta is not tied up today. After yesterday's performance, we didn't think the restraints were necessary. Please do not abuse this privilege or we will be forced to rescind it."

"How thoughtful," Ryker mused, not looking away from her face.

"061, please approach Subject Beta and prepare her the way you did yesterday."

The vampire tossed an angry glare to the observation panel. "Do I get her permission today?"

"If it pleases you, ask away. It won't change anything."

He flexed his hands into fists. "Figured as much."

"Please," Izzie said softly, startled by the sound of her voice but choosing not to question it.

Ryker went to such lengths to avoid hurting her, be it by word or action, and he had to know by now she couldn't do this with anyone else. Especially after yesterday—after seeing his face and witnessing his torment in doing what they asked, knowing it wasn't what she wanted but having little choice in the matter. Whatever bond they'd forged would outlast these walls, and she wouldn't risk it. Not now. He was the only ally she had.

Ryker shot her a cautious, uncertain glance. "What?"

"If it's not you it'll be someone else," she said. "They've told you that."

"Yes," Briggs agreed cheerfully. "We have."

Izzie nodded, swallowing hard. "Don't leave me alone in here. Please, Ryker."

"I don't want to hurt you," he replied, his voice hoarse.

"You won't." She released a trembling breath and cast off her blanket, laying back on the mattress and lifting her hips in offering. "Please."

"Please?"

She nodded again, her heart thundering. "It has to be you."

Ryker took a hesitant step forward, then another. A few seconds passed before the mattress dipped under his weight. He sat perched between her open legs, his wide eyes roaming her naked body with interest he couldn't fake. He raised a hand and placed it on her belly, right above the scar Harrison had given her, tenderly stroking her skin with his thumb. For the first time in her life, Izzie felt more than aware of her skin's imperfection, and wondered if he viewed the mark as ugly as she did.

The thought dissolved, however, against the stirring arousal he encouraged with his gentle caresses. "This okay?" he asked.

Izzie licked her lips. "Yes."

"Touch her intimately," Briggs prompted.

Ryker huffed. "F*cking perverts."

She gave him an awkward grin and shrugged. "Our fault for being so pretty, I guess."

"Yeah, we were asking for it." He scooted closer, his fingers dancing up her abdomen until he had a breast resting against his palm.

His touch shouldn't feel good but it did. F*ck, it felt amazing. He was tender where she would have expected something else—anything else—from a creature with fangs. There was nothing harsh in the way he cradled her flesh, the pad of his thumb brushing her nipple so subtly she would have thought it accidental had she not been watching his face. He looked hungry—starved—and his eyes were on her.

Her self-awareness vanished without warning. Lying naked, legs spread, a vampire exploring her body as a small group of voyeuristic scientists jotted down their reactions, and she didn't feel anything but need. Need for Ryker and his touch. Need for the soothing calm he provided in a world gone mad. His presence was enough to lessen the harshness of silence, to make her feel like she wasn't trapped in hell, rather just a bad dream.

He made her feel less alone. He reminded her she wasn't forgotten, even if he had no way to help aside from doing what he was told.

"Good," Briggs encouraged. "But we need more. We want her prepared for intercourse."

Ryker rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. She's a human female, you moron. How the f*ck do you presume I prepare her?"

"However it is you would."

"Figure we do it much the same way you pulsers do." Ryker glanced fleetingly to her p-ssy, his eyebrows arching and one of his fingers pressing experimentally against her vaginal lips.

Izzie worried a lip between her teeth. She hadn't realized how wet she was, and the shame wrought by that sudden awareness was damn near crushing.

God, was she actually enjoying this? Beyond the need for contact and the thrill of having him near, did she actual derive pleasure from being studied?

Izzie's stomach twisted unpleasantly. No, that couldn't be it. Not unless she was so f*cked up in the head that perversion was the only kind of normal she'd ever get.

"Shit," she murmured, blinking hard and looking away.

"You all right?" Ryker asked softly.

"No."

His hand fell away. "No? Did I—"

"No! No, please . . . ."

"Tell me what to do, darling."

How could she? She had no idea what she wanted. Nothing seemed certain anymore.

"Subject 061, please touch Subject Beta," Briggs commanded.

Ryker swore, parting her slick folds with his finger. His eyes remained on her face, and though she knew he looked for a sign—any sign—to stop, she couldn't help but flush under his scrutiny. Shit, she was sick. Wanting more, needing more, needing to feel him inside. Would they ask him to f*ck her today? It was coming, she knew it was coming. If not today certainly within the next few visits. They'd want to watch her bounce on his cock, completing her humiliation. The thought alone was enough to drive her mad.

And make her feel hot in ways she'd never anticipated.

"Izzie?"

Her name—the short, simple nickname she'd chosen for herself after fleeing Harrison's house—sounded wild and exotic on his tongue. She'd always felt androgynous on some level—blending into a sea of faces, indistinguishable from the person standing next to her. Now, though, she felt feminine. Felt the root of her sexuality at its core, and need strangled her as it never had.

Izzie had never wanted a man before. Not really. She'd slept with Wright once, a long time ago. That hadn't been raw or passionate, angry or heated. It hadn't been anything like the intoxicating power of want, and she didn't know whether to rebel now that she knew what desire felt like or give in.

She knew she had to give Ryker a sign before he'd proceed, but she didn't know how. He had no choice either way. The bastards that had made them their pet science project didn't care about her consent or his comfort, and, while some shameful deviant in her chest wanted the vampire give in to his basic urges, the rest of her could barely look at him for trembling.

A sick, terrifying thought cut through the haze. Was this what Harrison had seen when he looked at her? The sinner? The seductress? She who would make monsters out of men?

"Nod, sweetheart," Ryker murmured encouragingly. "It's all right."

She obeyed.

"Gonna touch you now. Just like yesterday. Okay?"

Izzie nodded again, her hips lifting of their own volition. Ryker's gaze followed the movement, his nostrils flaring.

"You smell—"

"I smell?"

Briggs cleared his throat over the intercom. "How does she smell?"

Ryker rolled his eyes. "Like a girl in heat."

"Suggesting she is responding to these sessions."

Izzie's skin burned, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh, God."

"She's responding to me, you ass," Ryker snapped. "Think she likes being on display?"

"Yes, well, you are a part of these sessions, but we—"

Her eyes stung. She had the horrible feeling she was about to cry.

"Can't help it if I'm irresistible, can I?" His thumb found her * and began stroking her in gentle, lazy circles.

"It's all right," he told her softly. "Just you and me, okay?"

Izzie blinked hard, her vision blurring. "This isn't me."

"I know, sweet." Ryker's fingers disappeared without warning.

Though her body screamed in protest, she refused to vocalize her distress. Right now, everything hurt. She ached when he touched her and wept when he did not, and, in the uncertainty of the moment, the wealth of disgust she harbored for herself battled the need coursing through her veins, making everything harder.

His hands slipped under her thighs. When she braved another look, she found Ryker perched between her legs, his cool breath tickling her slick flesh and sending a fresh wave of need across her skin. Izzie swallowed hard, and her heart thundered.

"Very good," Briggs encouraged.

It was enough to smack her back to the present. Though, thankfully, her vampire was there.

"Just you and me," Ryker whispered again, nuzzling her slick flesh as though preparing for morning worship. "Focus on me."

That much seemed impossible with her mind engaged in civil war.

Then, without ceremony, his tongue plunged deep inside her, and the world around her dissolved into a sea of color. Sparks detonated across her skin, an inhuman moan ripping through her throat. Her body was aflame, her blood bubbling with elation so pure it had to be illegal. And, before she knew what she was doing, her thighs had closed around his face, her hips bucking up to persuade his tongue deeper inside her p-ssy.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped. "Oh, my God!"

This was wrong, so wrong. Whoever she was, whomever she'd been, was gone. The girl who cowered in the closet, the child who had driven a dagger into her father's chest, the hardened fighter scouring the streets for meaning—that girl had disappeared. Lost. All at the hand of the vampire eating her from the inside out.

Wrong.

But, f*ck, if he stopped, he'd tear her apart in the process.

"Mmm . . . ." Ryker purred, his devilish tongue withdrawing from her aching, wet opening before diving in again. "Just stay with me."

At that moment, she would do anything he asked. At once, nothing mattered. Not the room, the mattress, or the panel of observers studying her reaction, making notes, and stripping her of everything that made her Izzie. She didn't care. She just wanted Ryker—wanted him to take her away, far away, if only for a few seconds. Wanted to feel him feasting on her like she was anything but a captive in a lab. Like she was what he wanted beyond the hope of freedom residing beyond these walls.

His left hand slipped over her hip, his gaze meeting hers.

"Stay with me," he murmured again, pulling back just slightly and licking his lips.

Her face flamed. "I'm with you."

From somewhere far away, Briggs said, "Good. Good."

Ryker grunted but didn't reply, rather slipped his tongue inside her again, his thumb settling over her *. And, God, it was too much. Dragging her away from the bleak world in which she lived and leading her away to a world peopled by them alone. Just her and Ryker. Ryker slurping noisily at her p-ssy, dipping, exploring, licking her up, growling against her flesh.

Izzie sucked in a breath and moaned his name aloud, her hips arching off the mattress. He'd crawled inside her skin and made himself at home. No matter what happened from here, she'd take him with her. In her head, her chest, in her lips and skin. He'd be with her forever in ways no one could understand or explain.

"F*ck me," Ryker breathed into her, his tongue lapping at her slit, swallowing her with his eyes when she cried out. "You taste divine."

Taste? She hadn't even thought of that. The idea that she even had a distinctive taste had her skin melting off her bones with a strange combination of shame and intrigue. However, for the way he suckled her juices like a man starved, she decided he could have as much of her divine taste as he liked. "I . . . oh . . . oh my . . . Ryker!"

"I am, you know," he growled, his thumb rubbing her * softly before sighing and releasing her to make room for his mouth.

And the second he drew her swollen pearl between his lips, a wanton, womanly cry touched the air in a voice she barely recognized as her own. His tongue indulged in long, sensuous laps of her tortured flesh, two fingers slipping between her p-ssy lips and gently pushing inside. The compounded sensation would unmake her completely.

"Someday," Ryker murmured, releasing her * with a parting lick, his fingers slipping out of her aching hole. "You're gonna wrap this delicious flesh around my cock. Both in here and out there. I'm gonna need to taste every inch of you."

This had happened too fast. She'd lost herself too damn fast.

"You gonna let me f*ck you, Izzie?" he rasped, the steady thrust of his tongue in and out of her p-ssy and the way his fingers played her * dangerously close to climax tearing down the walls around her. "You gonna let me show you how good it can be? You gonna let me make you mine? Completely mine?" He pinched her * and sucked hard at her opening, his eyes brightening with every cry that erupted from her lips. "So gorgeous, you are."

"Ryker, I . . . ." She trembled so hard she nearly cried, her nerves jostling closer and closer to the ambiguous edge of something she'd felt but once before. Shapes blurred around her before her eyes were blinded by white, her body quivering in ecstasy. "I . . . oh!"

"Come for me, baby," he bid her hoarsely, rubbing her * so fast she thought she'd break. "Come on my tongue. Drench me good."

Then, without warning, his fangs elongated, and he plunged his demon tongue so far inside her she saw proverbial stars.

And that was it. Izzie threw her head back and made a chorus of his name, her hips thrusting madly off the mattress. Her body sizzled and exploded, doused so deep in never-ending waves of rapture that she was panting in easy seconds for memory of how to breathe. It lasted forever but it ended too soon. She felt Ryker suckling at her p-ssy, felt his fingers moving still over her slippery, sensitive *, and nearly yelped in a twist of pleasured pain.

Sweat lined her brow, and her chest ached with the heavy weight of her gasps. And, by the time the world returned to her, she was dizzy with sensation.

Ryker remained where he was, resting his cheek against her scarred belly and gently running his fingers between her p-ssy lips—touching her, but not. Cooling the flames he'd set inside her body, but keeping her dangerously close to the boiling point at the same time.

She was lost. How it had happened she didn't know, but the prospect of going forward alone left her hollow. He played his role for their captors beautifully. And that was what it was—a role. A part in a sadistic game. He might enjoy her, like her, but there it ended.

The worlds from which they came were too different, and she wasn't foolish enough to think otherwise.

For the first time in her life, she wanted. She wanted something for herself—something tangible. Something worth fighting for.

Ryker was it. Overnight, he'd become her cause.

Her gut ached, and her heart twisted.

Trust her to fall for a demon.



* * * * *



He couldn't help himself. God knew he'd tried. Yet, with her taste in his mouth, her scent around him, his mind replaying her gasps and moans, the way she jerked and thrust against his face—he had to find relief.

Ryker slumped against the wall of his cell, panting hard, his hand milking his cock. Whatever had possessed him back there, he didn't know. A need to take her away, give her something, convince her, even fleetingly, that they were the only two beings in existence. Her eyes haunted him—the helpless look on her face when she realized she responded to his touches, and the visible loathing she experienced as a result. He saw it all. He felt it. And he'd needed to ease her shame.

He'd needed to give her something she could hold.

Whatever came next was anyone's guess. Ryker had been mostly convinced Briggs wanted him to plunge inside Izzie's hot little p-ssy today, but the second she came down from her orgasm he'd been escorted out. Back to the smaller cell, back to his prison. Soon, Briggs would come in as he had the night before. He would give Ryker a bag of blood for dinner, then stake him in the back and have his assistants wash him off. Clean him in preparation for tomorrow's test.

Did they do the same with Izzie? The thought of some perverted intern running his hands over Izzie's naked skin had the beast in Ryker's chest ready for a fight.

Mine.

Ryker shuddered into orgasm, pulling hard on his dick and sending the ceiling a spiteful glare. "Hope you enjoyed the show!" he shouted.

Briggs did not reply, but Ryker felt him watching.

Next time . . . God, Ryker had no idea what would happen next time. His fangs today had itched to sink into Izzie's supple flesh. Taste her, take her, inject her with the natural high his bite provided, and fulfill his need to dominate her. All in one move.

Vampire's bites were addictive to most. Three bites would complete the transformation—three simple bites to create new children of night. Ryker hadn't tasted a woman he cared about since Caroline, and even then, Caroline had been a child, and he'd loved her for very different reasons. After her death, he'd promised himself never to repeat the mistake.

But then again, he'd never foreseen a complication like this.

Beyond initiating the first step of the transformation, vampiric bites provided a rush unlike anything a normal junkie had tasted—infused strength and energy, and a sense of delirium that made groupies of unsuspecting donors. The effects wore off after a while, and Ryker had always been careful never to bite the same human more than once.

He would never force his fate on others. He'd chosen this, and he'd never deny the choice to someone else. Biting Izzie could be dangerous if he didn't watch himself. The bite might well fuel her with enough strength to break free—which made the thought all the more tempting—but whether she'd possess control of herself or her actions was anyone's guess. She might wind up getting hurt . . . or worse.

Regardless, Ryker's desire to bite her, to sip her blood, was selfish and for the wrong reason. He just needed her to know to whom she belonged. And therein lay the danger. If she didn't hate him for what he'd done already, she'd assuredly hate him for taking her choice away.

One bite. One little bite. It won't turn her.

God, he wanted it badly. She was his. And she, these scientists, her demon hunter friend, and the world needed to know it.

He just hoped he could control himself.