Atone in Darkness Page 3

  Well, not necessarily unique. After all, he shared them with at least ten other test subjects according to the data she’d inherited along with the lab. How had her predecessor managed to find so many others who had the same rare markers in their blood? With her area of specialty, she should’ve heard about any ongoing studies on the subject.

  As she waited for the centrifuge to finish its cycle, it crossed her mind that maybe the project was classified. That would certainly account for the secrecy. But if that were the case, wouldn’t she have had to go through an in-depth security clearance protocol before being hired and given access to the data? So many questions without answers. And the truth was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to figure it all out. Denial might be cowardly, but she needed some way to control the fear that was her constant companion.

  For a few seconds, she turned her attention away from the rows of neat and tidy numbers on her computer screen to study the man they represented. His tan skin had developed a sheen of sweat as he pounded along on the treadmill. There was such power and predatory grace in the way he moved. This wasn’t the time for her hormones to kick in, but he was so quintessentially male that she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have all that strength and intensity focused on her. Even now, her cheek tingled from his touch. Such gentle power.

  A doctor wasn’t supposed to lust after her patient, not to mention that Chase was there against his will. Luckily for her, he seemed blissfully unaware of her scrutiny as he kept pounding along. Did he think he could somehow outdistance his demons while running in place? She hoped it worked for him.

  But now he was slowing down, taking a cooldown lap or two before moving on to the exercise bike. She immediately dragged her attention back to her computer screen. A real live man couldn’t really be reduced to rows of numbers. Regardless, she tried to pretend it was possible. Anything to maintain some measure of emotional distance from him and the predicament they were both trapped in.

  She might have been naïve to take this job without looking beyond the glitter of the offer, but that didn’t mean she was always a fool. It was doubtful their captors would ever lower their guard long enough for Chase to escape. They couldn’t risk him getting free to testify against them for kidnapping him in the first place, not to mention the multiple assaults that might have killed a lesser man. Following that logic, they couldn’t afford to let her walk away at the end of her year’s employment for all those same reasons.

  As if her dark thoughts summoned them, the lab door slid open and six of the guards filed in. Chase had just stepped off the treadmill, barely breathing hard. He glanced at her and then at the men forming a semicircle around him. She set down her clipboard and started to position herself between him and the guards. Chase shook his head, telling her without words to stay out of it. When she did, he gave her a look of approval before calmly walking toward his escort.

  “Don’t wait up, Doc. I’m guessing my dance card is pretty full today.”

  The closest guard gave him a hard shove toward the door. “Shut up, Number Five.”

  Chase turned back long enough to pat the guard on the cheek. “You’re just jealous, big guy, because I’m a much better dancer than you are.”

  Marisol wanted to kick Chase herself for not controlling his mouth, as the doors slid closed behind him. She might admire his fearless nature, but he had to know he would pay for taunting them with his blood and extra pain. Considering the bad shape he was in after his last session, she wasn’t sure how much more he could take and survive.

  Now all she could do was finish analyzing the new blood test results and study the EKG recordings. Afterward, she’d grab a quick dinner in the cafeteria and then continue working for another few hours. She was in no hurry to return to her quarters. It was doubtful she’d get much rest tonight anyway. How was she supposed to sleep knowing the guards were beating the hell out of Chase for no reason other than they were sadists and enjoyed it?

  Come morning, she’d do what she could to help him, although she wasn’t sure she was doing him any favors in the long run. But giving up on helping him recover from his injuries would be like signing not only his death warrant but hers as well.

  God help them both.

  3

  * * *

  Chase hurt.

  No surprise considering he’d died during the dance, once again murdered at the hands of his captors. God knows they gave it their best this time, and they would probably hate learning that they’d failed to ensure he’d stay dead. His memories of the whole affair were understandably muddled, but he didn’t mind not recalling all the details. It had been bad enough struggling to breathe as his pulse stuttered and stalled without having an audience looking on and laughing as he fought against the darkness. He vaguely recalled the sadistic bastards kicking him a few more times just to make this latest death a little more special.

  The return trip back to the living was never any fun, but this time was a whole lot worse. It gave him a new appreciation for everything the Handlers back at headquarters did to ease the process for him and his fellow Paladins. He’d like to thank them personally for their efforts, but it was looking more and more likely that he’d never get that opportunity. Eventually the guards would finally lose control and find a way to end his life permanently. Chase knew that decapitation would work, or they could sever enough arteries at once to ensure he bled out before his body could start the healing process.

  God help him, but he almost wished that would happen.

  His body might be willing to heal again, but his mind was a different matter. Right now, he struggled to keep his jaws clamped shut, the only thing keeping him from screaming loud enough to put howler monkeys to shame. The only reason he had for not giving in to the urge was that it would scare his keeper and most likely earn him another beating from the guards.

  The cell door clicked and slid open. It took everything he had to force his eyes to come back online. They still couldn’t focus right, but at least they worked long enough for him to recognize the blurry human being hovering over him was most likely Marisol. An extra-deep breath drew in enough air to pick up the almond scent of her shampoo.

  “Oh, Chase, how could they do this to you?”

  He hated the sound of tears in her voice and tried unsuccessfully to lift his hand far enough to offer her the simple comfort of human touch. Right now, he needed that as much as she did. The trouble was neither of them should reveal that much weakness to his enemies. While she might not be firmly in their camp, neither was she completely in his. Not that he blamed her. She’d obviously gotten in way over her head and had no idea how to save herself, much less him.

  Although she tried to hide it, his keeper was clearly terrified of her coworkers and had good reason to be. After all, she was a woman alone in the middle of nowhere with only one beat-up Paladin and a whole lot of violent goons for company.

  “Damn it, this time I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, and then I’m going to e-mail my employers and tell them that this travesty has to stop.”

  “No!”

  He meant to yell the single word, but it came out more like a stage whisper. Even so, she immediately returned to his side. “I’m sorry, but I have to do something, Chase. If they keep this up night after night, it’s only a matter of time before they go too far. You might have an amazing ability to heal, but no one comes back from death.”

  Okay, that was funny. Had she really never noticed that sometimes he wasn’t breathing when they brought him back? On the other hand, what did he know? Maybe they left him lying in the gym until his heart got started again. It wasn’t the time for such discussions, and not just because his ability to speak was so limited right now. Plus, there was no telling who might be listening besides his pretty doctor.

  Maybe he could distract her long enough for him to regain his power of speech more fully. “Water.”

  It took another couple of breaths before his lungs drew in enough air to add, “P
lease.”

  Marisol looked happy to have something she could do to help. “Of course.”

  She was back seconds later. “I brought you ice chips. Take it slow and let them melt in your mouth. They’ll ease your thirst, and you aren’t as likely to choke.”

  The cool touch of her fingers eased beneath his neck and lifted his head long enough for her to slide a spoon with a few chips on it between his lips. The slow trickle of cold liquid felt like heaven on his parched throat. “More, please.”

  Woot! Two whole words in a row. He was on a roll now.

  After giving him another few chips, Marisol left his side. His eyes were starting to focus better, enabling him to track her progression as she gathered up a miscellany of supplies from the lab outside his door. When she returned, she set it all down on the bedside table. After dipping a washcloth in a basin of water, she gently washed his face.

  “Tell me if this is too hot.”

  “Feels good,” he whispered.

  She offered him a shaky smile and kept working. After a bit, she carried the basin back out to the sink in the lab and exchanged the bloody water for clean. Upon her return, she started cutting off what was left of his T-shirt, probably intending to assess the damage from last night’s time with the guards.

  She paused, and her dark eyes stared down into his for a brief second. “I wasn’t sure you were even still here at the compound. You’ve been gone for almost three days. I haven’t seen you or heard a word since the guards took you away after your workout on the treadmill.”

  She dropped her voice to a low whisper. “I asked two different guards where you were, but they both just ignored me.”

  He mulled over that little bombshell. He’d been dead that long? Well, hell, that wasn’t good news. Paladins might be resilient, but even they had an expiration date that kicked in if they died too often. Each occurrence made it that much harder to come back from the darkness sane and whole. His prolonged absence also explained why she looked so much more stressed than usual. Maybe he could manage three words this time. “Sorry you worried.”

  “I’m sorry they hurt you.”

  So was he, but considering she worked for the same assholes who paid the guards to do this to him, her obvious distress still seemed a bit hypocritical. Not that he was going to point that out right now, when he couldn’t sit up alone much less defend himself from another attack.

  And one was looming on the horizon. There always was. The guards had made it clear that they’d been told to pick up the pace. As much as he’d like to think that had been them just jerking his chain, there had been a little too much glee in their expressions when they shared that tidbit with him. They’d also punctuated the news with their batons to give it extra emphasis.

  His eyes were once again refusing to work, his body’s way of telling him he needed to rest. He also had no desire to continue this discussion about a hopeless situation.

  “Need to sleep now.”

  Marisol nodded and walked away again. She returned seconds later to cover him with a heated blanket, which felt ridiculously good. “Rest will do you good. Meanwhile, I’m going to give you an IV. I know you hate them, but you need the fluids. It also means I can start you on an anti-inflammatory to help accelerate the healing.”

  Normally he wasn’t a fan of pumping a bunch of drugs into his system and refused to let her administer them. He’d make an exception this time. If the guards did have another session planned, he would need all the help he could get.

  • • •

  MARISOL GLANCED AT the clock and recorded her latest observations along with the date and time. Twenty-four hours ago, Chase had been weak as a kitten, barely able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a stretch. What a difference a day made. He’d gone from absorbing all of his nutrition through a needle in his vein to shoveling food into his mouth at an impressive rate.

  She’d tried to refuse when he’d demanded she let him out to use the gym equipment, arguing that he needed to take it easy and give his body a chance to heal. But had he listened to her? Of course not. Instead, he’d started doing calisthenics in the limited area of his cell. She’d immediately caved and agreed to let him out, but only if he let her monitor his vitals while he went through his routine. And if he insisted on overextending himself, she could always slip him a tranquilizer in his energy drink. She’d hate to trick him like that, considering he already had trouble believing that she really had his best interests at heart.

  So far, though, he continued to show off much of his usual amazing resiliency. The only problem was that she could see a small but steady deterioration in his readings over the past two weeks. His reaction time, endurance, and strength still scored above average, but they weren’t as high as they used to be. The question was how long he could continue to bounce back from the constant abuse.

  Would the guards or her employer even listen if she tried to intervene? That would be venturing into dangerous territory, but her conscience was insisting that it was her duty to try.

  “What are you thinking about so hard, Doc? From the way you’re frowning, it can’t be anything good.”

  She hadn’t noticed Chase’s approach, and his comment startled her to the point she almost fell off the tall stool where she’d been sitting. His big hand shot out to steady her as she stood up, trying to pretend that had been her intention all along.

  Rather than tell him about the negative downturn in his readings, she lied. “Actually, I was doing math in my head.”

  He snorted and gestured at all the electronic equipment that cluttered up the counters. “Really? With all this fancy stuff around, and you’re going old-school on the arithmetic?”

  Before she could admit he’d caught her in a lie, he leaned past her to study the graph on the computer. Her first impulse was to turn off the screen, but she didn’t. After all, they were his test results, which in her mind gave him every right to see them.

  His expression hardened as he studied what the numbers spelled out. While he might not have the medical expertise to decipher what the lab tests meant, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his scores had changed for the worse.

  “Explain what I’m seeing.”

  He snapped out the order as if he were used to giving commands. While she didn’t usually respond well to such demands, she found herself pointing at the screen. “These tests reflect the current status of your liver, kidney, and cardiac functions. As you can see, your baseline numbers have always been at or above the optimal levels of a male in peak condition. Until now, the tests right after you return from a session with the guards have bounced back to those numbers within a few hours.”

  She moved her finger farther along the line. “More recently, however, it is taking longer for your numbers to rebound, and even then they don’t quite match the original test results.”

  “In other words, every time they beat the crap out of me, I lose ground.”

  Smart man. He understood the horrible truth on the first try. “Yes.”

  He leaned in closer as if the array of numbers was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. As his grim silence continued, she found herself trying to think of something to say. Finally, she pointed at three sets of numbers that stood out from the others.

  “What I haven’t been able to figure out was why these outliers are so different from any of the others. The readings from right before them are within your normal parameters, but clearly there was something different about your body’s response to . . . your interactions with the guards.”

  Chase snorted, his expression anything but amused. “Since when is interaction a euphemism for torture? Just what do you think goes on when they gas me and then drag my unconscious ass down to the gym?”

  When she didn’t answer, he proceeded to fill in the blanks for her. “We usually start off with two of them holding my arms while the others take turns beating the crap out of me. And that’s just the warm-up. After that, the fun continues as they put bat
ons, Tasers, and even their steel-toed boots to good use.”

  There wasn’t a bit of emotion in his deep voice as he continued. “There have been a few times they’ve strung me up by the neck and left me hanging so that only my toes touch the ground. No matter how strong you are, eventually you lose out to gravity and start choking to death. That’s fun. Or they lash me to a pole and have fun tossing knives at me. They place bets and keep score, winner take all.”

  As he spoke, he rubbed his throat as if trying to soothe the pain and terror that he must live with on a daily basis. Her stomach churned at the images he was creating. She’d suspected—no, that was a lie. She’d known all along that it was bad. After all, she’d seen the bruises, burns, and lacerations. But until now, she’d been able to focus on treating the wounds, not the truth about how he came by them.

  “There are no words for how vile those men are.” She fought against the burn of tears as she turned to face him directly. “Chase, you have to know that I would’ve never taken this job if I’d known this is what it would entail.”

  She wasn’t exactly asking for his forgiveness, more like a little understanding. She’d made a stupid mistake, one she had come to regret every minute of every day, but she might as well have been talking to the wall for all the reaction she got from him. Not that she could blame the man. She might have made the wrong decision by coming here, but it was obvious that he’d been given no choice at all. She finally asked the one question she should’ve asked when he’d first appeared locked up in that cell.

  “How did you get here, Chase?”

  “What’s the matter, Doc? Your conscience suddenly kicking in? I’ve gotta tell you, it’s a bit late for that. We both know all you really care about is the big bucks they’re paying you.”

  His bitterness came as no surprise. Pressing him for answers would accomplish nothing other than to confirm her own suspicions. “Sorry, forget I asked.”