Onyx Page 55



Terror consumed me, swallowing me like a rising tide. I reached for the bars, and the same barbed pain sliced through me, throwing me back. A scream tore from my throat as I shuddered, bringing my hands close to my chest. I recognized the pain now. It was what I’d felt when Smoker had placed that object against my cheek.

I tried to call on the power that was in me. I could blow these cages apart without touching them. But there was nothing inside me. It was like I was empty or detached from the Source. Helpless. Trapped.

A lump of material stirred in the cage nearest to me, rising up. It wasn’t a lump, but a person—a girl. My heart pounded against my ribs as she sat up, pushing greasy strands of long blond hair off her pale face.

She turned to me. The girl was my age, give or take a year. A wicked red-blue bruise spread out from her hairline, across her left cheek. She would’ve been pretty if she weren’t so thin and unkempt.

She sighed, lowering her face. “I was really pretty once.”

Had she read my thoughts? “I…”

“Yes, I read your thoughts.” Her voice was hoarse, thick. She glanced away, scanning the empty cages and then settling on the double doors. “You’re like me, I guess—owned by the Daedalus. Know any aliens?” She laughed then, lowering her pointy chin to her bent knees. “You have no idea why you’re here.”

Daedalus? What the hell was that? “No. I don’t even know where I am.”

She started to rock a little. “You’re in a warehouse. It’s like a transportation pod. I don’t know what state. I was out of it when they brought me in.” She gestured at the bruise with a flick of tiny fingers. “I wasn’t assimilating.”

I swallowed. “You’re human, right?”

Another choked, grim laugh sounded. “I’m not really sure anymore.”

“The DOD is involved in this?” I asked. Keep talking. I wouldn’t flip out completely if I could keep talking.

She nodded. “Yes and no. The Daedalus is, but they are a part of the DOD. And they are involved in me, but you…” Her eyes narrowed. They were a dark brown, almost black. “I could only pick up fragmented thoughts from the guys when they brought you in. You’re here for a different purpose.”

That was reassuring. “What’s your name?”

“Mo,” she croaked, touching her dry lips. “Everyone calls me Mo…or used to. Yours?”

“Katy.” I crawled closer to her, careful not to touch the cage. “What were you not assimilating to?”

“I wasn’t cooperating.” Mo lowered her head, hiding her face behind stringy hair. “I don’t even think they believe what they’re doing is wrong. It’s like one big gray area with them.” She lifted her chin. “They had another one here. A boy, but he’s not like us. They moved him out right after they brought you in.”

“What did he look like?” I asked, thinking of Dawson.

Before she could answer, a door shut somewhere outside of the large, cold room. Mo scrambled back, wrapping her thin arms around her bent knees. “Pretend to be asleep when they come up here. The one who brought you in isn’t as bad as the rest. You don’t want to provoke them.”

I thought of Smoker and his partner. My stomach roiled. “Wh—”

“Shh,” she hissed. “They’re coming. Pretend to be asleep!”

Not knowing what else to do, I moved to the back of the pen and laid down, throwing my arm over my face so I could peek under it without being seen.

The door opened and I saw two sets of legs encased in black pants enter the room. They were silent as they moved toward our two cages. My heart was racing again, increasing the ache in my head. They stopped in front of Mo’s cage.

“Are you going to behave today?” one of the men asked. There was laughter in his voice. “Or are we going to have to make this hard?”

“What do you think?” Mo spat back.

The man laughed and bent down. Black handcuffs dangled from his hands. “We don’t want to mess up the other side of your face, sweetie.”

“Speak for yourself,” the second man groused. “Bitch nearly ended any chances of me having kids.”

“Touch me again,” Mo said, “and you won’t.”

He opened the cage, and she immediately went after them. But she was no match for them. They grabbed her legs, pulling her out of the cage until she was lying on the cold cement floor. The one who called her a name rolled her over roughly, slamming her face into the floor. She grunted as he put his knee into her back, pulling her arms behind her. She let out another soft cry as he wrenched her arms.

I couldn’t sit still and watch this. I pushed up, ignoring the nausea. “Stop it! You’re hurting her!”

The one on her back looked over, frowning as he saw me. “Look at this, Ramirez. This one’s awake.”

“And that one needs to be left alone,” Ramirez replied. “We’re getting paid enough money to pretend she ain’t here, Williams. Get the stuff on her, and let’s get out of here.”

Williams climbed off Mo and approached my cage, kneeling down so he was eye-level with me. He wasn’t very old—maybe mid-twenties. The look in his dissipated blue eyes scared me more than the cages. Put what on me? “She’s a pretty one.”

I scooted back, wanting to cross my hands over the thin material of my tank top. “Why am I here?” My voice wavered even though I met his gaze.

Williams laughed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Listen to this one, asking questions.”

“Leave her alone.” Ramirez hauled the silent girl to her feet. Her head hung low, face shielded by hair. “We’ve got to get this one back to the center. Come on.”

“We could always Windex her brain. Have a little fun.”

I shrank back from the suggestion. Could they do that? Wipe away my memories? All I had were my memories. My eyes darted between the two men.

Ramirez swore under his breath. “Just do it, Williams.”

When Williams started to stand, I scrambled backward. “Wait. Wait! Why am I here?”

Williams opened the cage door with a small key and grabbed the chains. He yanked hard, and I fell backward. “I really don’t know what he wants with you, and I really don’t care.” He pulled on the chain again. “Now be a good girl.”

Showing how much I appreciated his suggestion, I kicked. If I could just get past him… My foot caught him under the chin, snapping his head back. Williams retaliated with a punch in my stomach, doubling me in half. I wheezed as he grabbed my wrists while he retrieved the handcuffs from the top of the cage, pulling so the chain attached to them reached the floor.

“No!” screamed Mo. “No!”

The fear in her voice increased my own, and my struggles renewed. It was no use. Williams clamped the handcuffs around my wrists, and the world exploded in pain. I started screaming.

And I didn’t stop.



My screams only died off when I could no longer make anything louder than a raspy whisper. My throat felt scraped raw. Only uncontrollable whimpers or moans escaped me now.

It had been hours since the men left with Mo. Hours of nothing but scalding, blistering pain that shot down my arms, bounced off my skull. It felt like my skin was continuously being flayed, torn apart to get to something underneath.

I faded in and out. Those moments of nothing were pure bliss, a short reprieve that ended too soon. I’d wake, thrust into a world where pain threatened to fray my sanity. Many times over I thought I’d die from it. That there had to be an end somewhere in sight, but the waves of hurt just kept coming, rolling over me, suffocating me.

My tears had also ended when my screams stopped. I tried to not move or jerk when the pain spiked. It only made it worse. I was no longer cold. Maybe it was because I couldn’t feel anything other than the hurting that was inflicted by whatever was encased on those handcuffs.

But through it all, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live through this.

At some point, the doors opened. Too exhausted to lift my head, I stared blindly at the metal beams through the bars. Would they take the handcuffs off? I wasn’t holding my breath.

“Katy…”

My gaze lowered, taking in the salt and pepper hair, the handsome face, and the smile that had charmed his way into my life and right into my mom’s bed. My mom’s boyfriend—the first man she’d even paid attention to after my dad’s death. I think she loved him. That was what made all of this so much worse. I didn’t care about what it meant for me. I had my suspicions before, and there was the general dislike of the fact he had been taking Dad’s place, but Mom… This would kill her.

“How you hanging in there?” he asked, as if he truly cared. “I hear it’s painful—the coating—to those like you and the Luxen. It’s pretty much the only thing that can completely incapacitate both the Luxen and those they mutate. Onyx mixed with a few other stones, like rubies, inflects such a strange reaction. It’s like two photons bouncing off each other, looking for a way out. That’s what it’s doing to your mutated cells.”

He adjusted his tie, loosening it around his neck. “I’m what the DOD calls an implant, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. You’re a smart cookie, but you’re probably wondering how I knew? The night you were brought into the ER after you were attacked, you were recovering way too fast. And the DOD was already keeping an eye on you because of your proximity to the Blacks.”

And being a doctor—wow, he’d know right off the bat if someone healed abnormally fast. Disgust seeped through me like a disease. It took me several tries to get the next raspy words out. “You started…to date my…mom, just to keep…an eye on me?” When he winked, I wanted to vomit. “You son…of a bitch.”

“Well, dating your mom did have its benefits. Don’t get me wrong. I do care about her. She’s a lovely woman, but…”

I wanted to hurt him. Badly. “You…told them about…Dawson and Bethany?”

He flashed a smile, showing off perfect white teeth. “The DOD was already monitoring them. Any time a Luxen gets close to a human, they do, hoping the Luxen will mutate the human. I was staying with her parents when she returned from hiking. I had my suspicions, and I was right.”

“You…you were sick.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Hmm, haven’t you been doing your research?” When I said nothing, he smirked. “And I won’t ever be sick again.”

I blinked. He’d sold out his only family.

“I brought them in first…and, well, we know what happened from there.” He knelt down, head tilted to the side. “But you’re different. Your fever ran higher, you responded to the serum miraculously, and you’re stronger than Bethany.”

“Serum?”

“Yes. It’s called Daedalus, named after the division within the DOD that oversees mutated humans. They’ve been working on it for years—a mixture of human and alien DNA. I injected you with it when you first became ill.” Will laughed. “Come on, did you think you’d survive a mutation of that kind of magnitude without help?”

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