Pain, discomfort, and exhaustion, as ironic as it was, were sensations that jolted me awake.
The hot, burning, throbbing pain on the right side of my abdomen made me groan because it was all too familiar, and the bad news was that my enzymes had been harvested, which was one thing that fucked me up.
I was once again strapped upright on some damn rack, and with most of my skin exposed and air moving around me, it was reasonable to assume I was somewhat naked, though my drugged state made it difficult for me to decipher exactly all the sensations in my body.
My mind was groggy and disoriented, but as I got my mind a bit more revved up, I recalled stun grenades, but as I very carefully felt sensations on me, I felt none of what would be normal after being hit with that bastard.
And it fucked me up even more, as it meant I had been out cold for quite a while, weeks maybe, as it took time for me to recover from them.
My senses, hearing and smelling, told me I was not alone, and that others were suffering as well.
My team, fuck me sideways; this is not good.
And then some kind of mechanical click, a sensation of hotness spreading in my veins, and darkness took me once more.
The next time I woke up, it was just as brief; it was a less delightful encounter, as I was in the middle of a live dissection without much anesthesia, or at least when I woke up, at least six damn sharks were cutting into me, studying me.
I could also feel metals in my system, as I had a metal headache, and once one of Julian Sarks’s noticed I was awake, he just adjusted one of multiple IVs running into me, and soon I passed out once again.
I had no idea how many times I woke up briefly in the middle of something, and it always faded away from my mind, so I just could not recall what had already been done to me or get any kind of sense of time.
It was always almost the same thing: the sarks were annoyed as they noticed me waking up, and they had to do something; it was almost like an insult to their skills of keeping me down.
Well, it had been a while since they had had me, and I had gotten a hell of a lot stronger since then.
Julian Sark had been one who had been part of the team that created me a long, long time ago, but I had never had time to really question him.
He had this irritating family magic that cloned him.
He had twisted it so that it allowed new ones to be born while old ones were still around.
There were over 600 Sarks in the world, corrupted clinicians who were aiming for betterment for humanity for pay.
The rich would pay them, and they would try pretty much anything to cater to those rich humans.
Julian Sark was mid-height, had blonde curly hair, and had light brown eyes, and was not handsome but pretty plain-looking, but his gaze was dead; he saw most supernaturals as pieces of meat, tissues to be used.
He was my so-called mortal enemy, my main target, and I had killed thousands of versions of him and tortured him too, but he just kept on coming at me, as I was unique and he still believed he could exploit me even more.
One thing that he robbed me of was my liver enzymes, a certain type of CYP mutation that was also linked to my shape-changing; with those, he could manufacture some of his drugs way cheaper but sell them with obscene profit.
He had bribed a lot of doctors to prescribe his old-fashioned ED drugs, blood pressure medication, a few heart medications, and lipid regulators.
I had done my utmost to stop him from using enzymes illegally, but it did not stop him, and once again, I had no idea how much he had already pulled from my enzymes or what kind of uses other enzymes would have.
As I once again woke up, strung on a rack, hanging by my arms, but with tight steel bands encircling my chest and waist, chafing as I tried to breathe, it was damn hard to get my mind back online.
I finally opened my eyes, as it was useless for me to pretend to be unconscious, as it seemed there was some kind of monitoring device keeping my brain activity logged, and now I had to start compiling data, see where we were, and how the hell we get out of here.
The room was large, as all of us were strapped into these racks, naked or almost naked; I and several others were naked, but Alaric, Tim, and Taylor, as well as the wizards, had some kind of briefs on.
Next to me was Wulfe, naked, and what surprised me was the open hostility in his gaze and even more so his angry, bitter hiss.
“Oh, the high and mighty princess wakes up. Let’s see if you are trying to do the same to me that these other bozos are convincing me I am part of your pack and I have amnesia and I am supposed to be in love with you, you goddamn freak.”
I gulped.
His rejection somehow hit me hard and made this so much harder for me to deal with.
Charles’s rather weak voice spoke somewhere left of me.
“Don’t mind him, honey; Sarks gave him some experimental compounds to bind his magic and most of his powers, but the side effects are amnesia and hostility. For Sarks, this is a hilarious effect.” You are reading on novelping . com, the official source.
Charles’s voice seemed subdued and drugged, and he was weak; I could sense it via our bond.
I took a breath, closed my eyes, and extended my mind into our web to get an idea of who was feeling what.
Charles and Adam, as well as the boys, were in pain; they had been operated on, and they had fought, but now they were drugged, sore, full of stitches, and wounded.
Wulfe, I could not sense him at all, not in mind nor in our web; he had left even when he was physically around.
Tim and Taylor were out cold, whereas Katherine, Elena, Mimosa, and Shadow were full of the need to hit the Sarks; they were trying to work up rage, but drugs stopped that in them as well.
Wizards were messed up seeing things, and I guess they too had some experimental compounds in them.
Alaric, Murdock, and Dexter were calm; they were actually waiting for me to come up with some brilliant idea on how to get us out of here.
Right now, I felt less like a leader and more like a victim.
I was turning my head to check what shackles or restraint system it was; my vision was blurry, and I was groggy and disoriented as shit.
Metals circulating in my body did not help a bit, as they used up my reserves, and I could clearly see others were just damn skinny; we all were.
Recovery might take time, physically, and then all of these experimental compounds would do to us.
Pain tore through my heart and soul as I realized that this might be it, Wulfe; if I were to get us free, he might just leave, forget me, and never return.
I had no idea what kind of compounds they were or what they did to him, an old creature like him.
He was one damn hard creature to force into submission and treatment if he did not want it.
I kept my mouth shut as I continued to map my surroundings, having established some linkage between them, so I could relay in real time my thoughts to everyone: what I had seen, and what I could make out of this situation.
This seemed to perk up at least the girls and wolves; their alpha power grew, and the need to care for our pack made them more snappish.
Adam was also awake, and he commented from time to time.
I was just pondering in our hive, “There are no physical cameras, but then again, they don’t have to be big; it is more than likely we are monitored.”
Adam added, “Well, we are hooked on monitors, so it is reasonable to assume that Sarks have their own monitors in some place.”
Alaric remarked, “I am not sure if this floor is special; those other slats might have pressure sensors, so if we get free, they might have alarms on them. I am not sure. Can we verify it or not?”
Magnum said, his voice weary, “Well, keep an eye on what they do when they enter; it might be that the control panel is on the other side of the door, but it is not too thick, so you will hear when they are coming. If it takes time for them to get the door open, it might mean there are some security systems to be disabled.”
I replied in our hive.
“Well, in case of that, it might be a good idea to try to change the shape when we get free. But sure, I can take the bird form, but we could try something small and light as well; the only thing is not knowing if there are pressure plates and how sensitive they are and what they do if they are triggered.”
Adam grunted out loud.
Taylor said in our hive, “Of course, escaping is the priority, but we should try to map other areas and stay awake as much as possible and see if we can have time to escape or be free. Even if one of us could escape, they might get others free as well, and maybe we could all get out of here.”
I was silent, sure I had my backup plan, meaning unleashing my powers and flooding them to everyone via our new network, but now I hesitated, mainly because of Wulfe.
As he was in the state he currently was, I was not so sure if I should empower him.
He just might dump us and escape, leaving us in the lurch, and so when I would use my powers, I would have to be sure that he was on board or have a way of stopping my powers from entering him.
Of course, our physical fitness had already taken quite a hit, and I was not sure if I was the only one who had been infused with metals.
I had the four horrors, meaning cobalt, vanadium, rhodium, and iridium, all affecting my physiology, lowering my immune defense while making my system rev up faster, making me more susceptible to drugs, and making them harder to eliminate, not to mention just how damn much they had robbed my enzymes, which did not help things at all.
Murdock said, sarcastically, “Oh, this gives me such motivation to kill even more Sarks; you can be sure of it, my butterfly, once I am up and running and we are free from here. I am unavailable for anything other than showing Sarks what I can do.”
Dexter seemed to echo his plans.
Those two had learned to feel; they were no longer psychopaths or sociopaths but individuals who felt deeply, and this kind of torture felt like it.
Since both of them loved me and protected me, seeing me being tortured, naked, skinny, and wounded did not help at all and made them even more pissed off.
Alaric said, “I must admit, brat, this is an experience I could have done without, but then again, at least I have personal experience with Sarks. Murdock is right; it gives motivation like no other, and from this on now, Sarks are no longer names on a list but a very personal set of shitheads who will get what is coming to them.”
I took a breath; sure, this was not nice, but now was not the time to let the need for revenge take over.
I sent it via our hive burst of my powers, just to remind others I had oomph to get us out of here, but we had to be wise; this was a huge operation, and if we even had hopes of saving anyone, now was the time to use our brains first.
Even if it might mean taking a few more hits.
Charles said to me, “Good, honey; you have oomph. Let’s make a plan. You’re right; rushing does not help.”
It was a fine time for a bit of distraction; maybe this was a bit of a fuck-up in Sark’s face, as they assumed we would be frantic, trying to get free.
I said via Hive, “Follow my lead; time to fuck with Sarks. Let out as many good pheromones as possible. Let’s not be victims, and it is one thing that fucks them up.”
Elena said, in our hive.
“Oh yeah, I am ready; I am no longer a victim.”
I took a bit better stance on the rack, meaning I tensed myself and relieved pressure on certain points, and then talked out loud in a conversational tone.
“Have you ever tasted cheese called Belper Knolle? It is covered in a ton of black pepper; it is a Swiss cheese made from raw cow’s milk, and it is almost a cheese truffle. I mean, it is a tiny round ball, and you can use a truffle grater to get these shavings and put them on potatoes or something.”
Katherine said, “Well, I am not sure, but I am not a big fan of black pepper, so it might not be my favorite. I like good aged Parmesan, an enormous wheel.”
Tim commented, “Well, I like to sometimes have a cheeseboard; I mean, select like 12 to 20 fresh cheeses that I have never tasted, some excellent wines, a sports game on TV or female company, fruits, and crackers.”
Adam said, “Well, I happen to know a few high-end cheese shops as well, so maybe we could one day have a cheese and wine tasting day.”
Mimosa remarked, “Count me in; I am all up for tasting wine.”
I said, “Well, as you know, I had my time to live a bit differently, and during that time, oh boy, I tasted different cheeses, but the funny thing was, I had no idea what they were called. For example, I had those cheese cores from enormous wheels from Moldova, and sure, some of them were quite yummy, but what they are called or what they even are, I have no clue. And for wines, well, I have pretty specific tastes; I prefer white over red, sparkling, and champagne, but I like dry, fruity, and not too sweet.”
Shadow said, “Oh, I need to teach you to appreciate fine tannins in high-quality red wine; it is a work of art.”
Taylor quipped, “No need; just splurge on the most expensive Dom Pérignon and show it to my lovely lady here, and she will follow you to the end of the earth.”
I rolled my eyes.
Our little casual conversation was meaningful; we were showing off to Sarks that we were not weak, victims, frantic, or in pain, even though we were.
This would make them most likely to escalate, and when escalated, mistakes were bound to happen, and it was exactly what we were aiming for with this.
We would make Sarks irritated and reckless, and I just kept my eyes peeled for mistakes and opportunities.
As time had gone on, Sarks had become way less clinical, and the war between us was almost personal.
We were baiting them for good; now it was a waiting game.