Oh God…

“He can heal serious injuries,” I blurted out, shrinking back when the doctor stood in front of me. “How do you think I got mutated in the first place?”

“Sometimes that is a fluke, Katy.” Sergeant Dasher moved to the other side of the table.

I dragged in air, but my lungs seemed to have stopped working. Daedalus could barely replicate the mutation and had subjected Beth and Dawson to horrific things, trying to get Dawson to mutate other humans. What Daedalus didn’t know was that there had to be a true want, a need behind the healing. A need and want like love. That was why it was so hard to replicate.

I almost told them that to save my own skin, but then I realized it probably wouldn’t make a difference. Will hadn’t believed me when I told him. There was no science behind that. It made the whole healing thing almost magical.

“We’ve learned from the last time that having Daemon in the room during the procedure isn’t a good idea. He will be brought in after we are done,” Dasher continued. “Lay down on your stomach, Katy.”

A little relief eked through me when I realized it would be way too hard to slit my throat with me lying on my stomach, but I still delayed. “What if he can’t heal me? What if it was a fluke?”

“Then this whole experiment is over,” Nancy said from her corner. “But I think you and I both know that won’t be the case.”

“If you know it won’t be the case, then why do you need to do this?” It wasn’t just the pain I was trying to avoid. I didn’t want them to bring Daemon in here and make him go through this. I’d seen what that had done to Dawson, what that would do to anyone.

“We have to do trials,” Dr. Roth said, his look sympathetic. “We would sedate you, but we have no way of knowing how that would affect the process.”

My eyes swung toward Archer, but he looked away. No help there. There was no help anywhere in this room. This was going to happen, and this was going to suck donkey butt.

“Get on your stomach, Katy. The quicker you do this, the quicker it will be over.” Sergeant Dasher placed his hands on the table. “Or we will put you on your stomach.”

I looked up, my gaze locking with his, and my shoulders squared. Did he really think I was just going to do this willingly and make it easy for all of them? He so had another thing coming.

“Then you’re going to have to put me on my stomach,” I told him.

He put me on my stomach pretty quickly. It was rather embarrassing how fast he got me flipped over with the help of the other guard who had come in with them. Dasher had hold of my feet, and the guard had my palms pinned down next to my head. I flopped around like a fish for a few seconds before realizing it was doing no good.

All I could lift was my head, which put me at eye level with the guard’s chest. “There’s a special place in hell for you people.”

No one responded—not out loud, that is.

Archer’s voice filled my head. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath when I tell you.

Too panicked to even pay attention to what he was saying or give much thought to why he was trying to help me, I gasped for a breath.

The back of my shirt was lifted and chilly air rushed over my skin, sending a wave of goose bumps from my spine to my shoulders.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. My brain was shutting down, fear taking hold with razor-sharp claws.

Katy.

The cold edge of the scalpel came down on my skin, right below my shoulder blade.

Katy, take a deep breath!

I opened my mouth.

There was a quick jerk of the doctor’s arm and fire lit my back, an intensely deep, burning pain that split my skin and muscle.

I didn’t take a deep breath. I couldn’t.

I screamed.

Chapter 15

Daemon

I didn’t feel too spiffy.

About four minutes ago, my heart had started pounding like crazy. I felt sick to my stomach and could barely concentrate on putting one stupid foot in front of the other.

The feeling was vaguely familiar. So was the shortness of breath. I’d experienced this own brand of hell when Kat had been shot, but that didn’t make any sense. Relatively speaking, she was sort of safe here, at least from random psychos with guns, and there was no reason anyone would hurt her. Not at this moment, that was, but I knew they had done stuff to Beth to force my brother to mutate humans.

A warm tingle exploded along the back of my neck as the guard and I headed down the hall on the med floor. Kat was nearby. Good.

But the sick feeling, the general sense of dread and pressure building in my chest only worsened the closer I got to her.

This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

I stumbled, almost losing my balance, and that brought a big ol’ dose of what-the-hell. I never stumbled. I had wonderful poise. Or balance. Whatever.

The Rambo wannabe stopped in front of one of the many windowless doors and did the eyeball thing. There was a clicking sound, and the door opened. Air punched out of my lungs the moment I got a good eyeful of the room.

My worst nightmare had come true, springing to life in horrifying clarity and detail.

No one was standing near her, but there were people in the room, even though I really didn’t see them. All I saw was Kat. She was lying on her stomach, head turned to the side. Her face was ungodly pale and strained, eyes barely open. A fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead.

Dear God, there was so much blood—seeping off Kat’s back, pooling on the gurney table she was lying on, and dripping into the pans below the table.

Her back…her back was a mangled mess. Muscle cut and bone exposed. It looked like Freddy Krueger had gotten hold of her. I was pretty sure her spine was…I couldn’t even finish the thought.




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