Saint remained sitting inside the pool, the temperature of his body increasing rapidly. He placed his hand on his head as a tremor struck through him, making him growl again, this time louder.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The guards had informed Dax about Saint running out of the mansion with furs and claws.
Dax hurried out, darting toward the pool. The moment he saw the torn net, he froze in his tracks, his eyes trailing down the net that claws had vividly torn through. He stepped closer, this time afraid this might be worse than the usual episodes they’d already gotten used to.
Crouching beside the pool, he called Saint’s name, waiting for a response, but just a bubble rose from the water, giving him the assurance that he was actually in there.
"Marchetti," Dax called, but instead of a response Marchetti growled as though he was in pain, the sound resonating through the mansion.
"They are here and they want you to come out of the water," Dax assured him, but Marchetti remained mute this time, not even growling.
Dax dipped his hand into the pool, about to tap the water, but the moment his fingertips touched it he retreated, whimpering. A burn blister had formed on his finger.
"You’re burning up, Marchetti. This is different. What’s wrong?" he questioned, sweat gathering on his forehead into tiny drops as they trailed down toward his lip.
"Guards!" he screamed as up to ten guards rushed to his side.
"Get me Doctor Quinn and Milo right now and some of Saint’s clothes and a towel." He ordered the guards, who all scampered to obey, bowing their heads in respect. Two guards stood beside him in protection. "Both of you, go upstairs to Saint’s room. There’s a lady there, don’t let her leave the house."
"Roger that," they said in unison and marched into the building.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aurora remained rooted to the spot, gawking in total horror at the place Saint had burst out from down the stairs, her face drained of color.
The dark glare and the growl when he had shouted for her not to come closer had not been the calm voice that would ask for the nanny.
She remembered the genetic test she had earlier that day and brushed the thought aside. She stepped toward the stairs and came face to face with two heavyset guards, each twice her height, which made her stop in her tracks.
The two guards looked at each other for a split second, then back at her, and nodded before one of them stepped forward and hauled her over his shoulder while the other helped him hold the gun he was using for protection.
For a moment, when Aurora saw the gun, she almost collapsed, but she straightened herself up and did not let her legs buckle. "Where are you taking me?" she inquired, hitting the back of the guard who carried her, but he did not budge.
"I have a test today, please let me go," she pleaded, tears blurring her vision as the realization sanked in, this did not look like a place she would be leaving any time soon. They pushed her into the bed and then walked out, locking the door to the room she had run out of.
While they stood outside guarding the room, Aurora got up from the bed and walked toward the window. If she jumped down she would not make it out alive, she reminded herself. After more than twenty minutes of pacing, contemplating, and searching for a way out, not even after pleading with the guards to let her go, her legs gave out.
Her butt hit the floor as she curled her knees toward her chest, her hair disheveled. She sobbed silently, hoping her father would be looking for her by now. Suddenly a loud growl echoed through the mansion.
She scrambled up, fidgeting, her lips quivering. She moved closer to the window and peered out, but found nothing except the black car that had just pulled in while guards moved like something serious was happening.
She gripped the curtain to steady herself and wiped the trail of tears from her face with her hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A black Rolls-Royce drove into the compound.
When it came to a stop, a tall man who looked a bit older than Saint stepped out holding a first aid box clutched in his hand. Behind him another slightly older man trailed, as the guards led them to the pool where Dax remained, crouched and still trying to plead with Marchetti to come out after using the words they normally used to calm Saint during his episodes, but none of it worked.
They stopped beside Dax. He got up and shook hands with both Dr. Quinn and Milo.
"What went wrong this time?" Quinn asked, placing the box on the floor an inch away from the pool as he removed a single syringe containing a blue liquid.
"This is worse than the one he usually has. The water is hot. I’m guessing Marchetti has taken total control and....." Dax began, but Quinn cut him off.
"He’s suppressing it," Quinn said, pressing the liquid into the syringe.
"Saint should just let Marchetti take control. He can’t continue hiding it for twenty years. I’m afraid this one won’t end well," Milo added, concern showing vividly on his face.
Doctor Quinn dipped his hand into the pool and pulled it out immediately. A red blister, like the result of hot water, had formed on his hand. "Something triggered Saint," Quinn confessed in his deep baritone voice.
"And what do you think triggered him?" Dax asked, his brows knitting together in confusion as he stared at the water. The tiny bubbles that had been on the surface had stopped.
"Do you expect me to know?" Quinn asked, on the verge of snapping, trying to think what might have triggered Marchetti to become so feral.
"He’s your job, Doctor Quinn," Dax hissed, dragging his fingers through his hair.
"Really?" Dr. Quinn laughed, placing the syringe into the box as he stood up, totally irritated by Dax’s biased behavior. "The reason you’re in this house was to monitor him and prevent him from getting into this again, but what did you do? Nothing."
"This is not the time for this, both of you," Milo chimed in, pushing his body between the two men who were giving each other death glares.
"I know everyone is scared, but this is not the time to blame one another. We can think about what could have possibly triggered him later, after we have dragged him out of that water. And in case you both didn’t notice, bubbles aren’t coming out of the water."
Dr. Quinn returned to the syringe he was working on, while Dax pulled his shirt over his head. His nails elongated into claws and his eyes changed to a blood moon red as he transformed into his full wolf form and dove into the pool.
By the time he reached the bottom, Saint was lying there half naked with just a torn sheet wrapped around his body in his human form, his breathing ragged and shallow.
Dax pulled him up, his hands wrapped around Saint’s bare chest as he dragged him out of the water with all the strength he could muster.
Reaching the surface, he changed back into his human form while Milo helped him pull Saint out and lay him flat on his back.
"Let him have control for once, Saint," Dr. Quinn muttered as he plunged the syringe into Saint’s upper arm.