That’s why she’s so dedicated to her research.
“What can you tell me about Santiago?”
“Señor Creepy?” She sighs, rubbing her eyes. She’s got to be running on fumes. “He just showed up today. Smyth introduced him to me. He had a bunch of bodyguards. They wanted to know my progress. That’s all I can tell you. That’s all I know.”
Shit. She’s not giving me anything.
“The cells you’re working on. The super cells. Where did you get them?”
“Something called the Alpha Program. Smyth won’t tell me the real source. He doesn’t want the research biased.”
“No, Layne.” Her eyes snap to mine when I say her name. “He doesn’t want you to know how he got them.”
“How did he get them?”
“Illegal harvesting. He takes people captive, and forces them into his experiments. That’s what Project Alpha is.”
She swallows hard. “He did that to you?”
I look away as the dark pulse of horror envelopes me.
I’m in a concrete and silver wire cage, a choke collar is around my neck, the chain hitched up and attached to the ceiling. I’ve been alone, with almost no human interaction for weeks. Still, when Smyth appears in his white lab coat and clipboard, only fear washes over me. My body tightens, bracing for more pain. More endurance testing. More knife wounds to the chest, hot brands on my legs and arms.
Smyth detaches the chain attached to the choke collar and yanks me up against the silver coated bars. Anger burns in his eyes. Hatred.
“Sam?” Layne’s concerned voice comes from across an ocean. The horrible throb of bass drowning out her words drops away the moment she takes my hand.
I draw in a gasp of breath, give my head a shake to clear my vision.
Smyth. Why did he hate me so much? It’s a question I never asked myself back then. Now, it suddenly seems like an important clue-one I’d missed until now.
“Are you all right, Sam?”
I scrub a hand over my face. “I have to stop him.”
~.~
Layne
“WHAT ARE you going to do with the data?” I ask. I was trying for casual, but I know I failed miserably when Sam’s sympathetic gaze rests on my face.
“Layne,” he says gently. “I understand you were excited about your findings…”
“That research could save lives.” I can’t keep the heat from my voice.
“You can’t go public with any of it, sweetheart. What are you going to tell the scientific community, that you used cells from werewolves? You’ll be laughed out of every circle. Not to mention the fact that even if they would accept that explanation, I can’t allow you to disclose our existence.”
My mouth falls open, the protest on my lips dying as I realize he’s right. Without more of the shifter cells, I won’t be able to replicate the data, and I’ll never be able to explain it.
Tears smart my eyes and I get up from the table to hide them.
Sam surges up, too, and wraps his arms around me from behind. Not capturing me, like he did in the lab this evening, just holding me. “I’m sorry.”
“I need that research.” My voice breaks.
“And I can’t let you keep it.” His voice is quiet, unemotional. It’s a simple statement of fact. He’s taking away the only thing I’ve worked for since the year my mother died, since the day I knew I, too, would die of the same disease.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I turn in his arms and smack his chest with my open hand. “What are you going to do with it?” My raised voice is higher in pitch than normal.
“I’m going to use it to find Smyth and then I’m going to destroy it after I destroy him.” The resolve in his expression is deadly, and I have no doubt he’s capable of doing all he promises.
“No. You can’t. I’m so close-”
“You’re not. You haven’t been working with human cells. Your research is all skewed.”
My mind races. “Maybe, maybe not. I need more time and tests to analyze it.”
Sam’s shoulders sag. “Layne-”
“Don’t destroy it,” I beg. “Please. It’s so important.”
He cradles my face with both palms. “We’ll figure something out.”
I hit his hands away. “What does that mean?”
He turns away and shoves his fingers through his blond hair, sending it spiking in new directions. “A compromise. It means I’ll try to find a compromise with you. Okay?” He sounds exhausted.
The fight drains out of me and suddenly I’m bone tired, myself. It’s late-probably past midnight and I’ve had a doozy of a day. “I’m going to hit the shower, and go to bed,” I mumble.
He turns and looks at me with this intense tractor beam. “Yeah. Okay. You can take the bedroom. I’ll sleep out here.” He waves a hand toward the tiny living area.
I nod. Defeat weighs on my shoulders although I’m not sure why. Sam agreed to find a compromise. It’s the best I could hope for, under the circumstances. It’s more like I’m experiencing the weight on his shoulders, but that doesn’t make sense. I am, admittedly, drawn to the tortured young man intent on revenge. But to actually feel his feelings is… impossible.
But then, yesterday I would’ve sworn changing from a wolf into human form was impossible, too.
I brush it off and head to the shower. When I turn off the water, I find a neatly folded t-shirt and boxer briefs on the bathroom counter. Yes, the same one Sam taped me to an hour ago. Knowing he’d been back in the bathroom while I showered shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it is. So is the thoughtfulness he showed in leaving his clothes for me.