Atone in Darkness Page 5
• • •
IT COULD’VE ONLY been minutes, but it felt like forever before silence returned to her world. Marisol waited another few seconds before daring to stick her head out to look around. Seeing the room was empty, she abandoned her hiding spot and rushed across the lab toward Chase’s cell. The door stood open, and the cot was empty. Had they taken him with them?
“Chase, are you in there?”
No answer. She skidded to a stop just outside the threshold. He was in there all right, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. That was horrific enough, but it was the way his eyes stared at her, unblinking and lifeless, that had her keening in grief and pain.
She dropped to her knees on the floor as she frantically felt for a pulse she already knew wouldn’t be there. CPR wouldn’t bring him back, but she had to try. She did chest compressions alternating with breaths until her arms ached and her head swirled with dizziness. Giving up her efforts meant giving up on him, but there came a point where a doctor had to accept that some patients were beyond saving. It was time to step back and admit enough was enough.
It would make no difference to Chase now, but she closed his eyes and rearranged his limbs to make him more comfortable. Looking around the small cell for something to cover him with, she reached for the blanket that she’d warmed for him earlier. Her heart told her it was wrong to leave him there on the floor, but right now she had no choice. Somehow she’d escape this place and find a way to get justice for him. She might not be able to identify all of the guards who were responsible for his death, but she knew one by name. Dan would pay for this atrocity.
Before covering Chase’s bruised and battered face, she brushed the hair back off his forehead. “God, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known that nothing good would come from threatening Dan. You did your best to protect me. I will do everything I can to bring you home to your loved ones.”
Not that she had any idea who they were or how to contact them. Regardless, she owed that much to him. How could she ever get over knowing he’d died trying to save her? She couldn’t remember anyone ever lifting a finger to protect her from anything, not even her parents. Heck, especially her parents.
Then there was the problem that she was as much a prisoner as Chase had been. What made her think she could do anything for him when she couldn’t even save herself? With tears streaming down her face, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and then tugged the blanket over his handsome face.
Having done all she could for him, she pushed herself back up to her feet and walked out of the cell. More than anything, she wanted to return to her quarters and lock herself inside, but she couldn’t risk running into Dan and his friends again. Eventually, she’d have to venture out of her lab, but she didn’t have the strength right now to face another confrontation.
The other worry was how to defend herself if she did encounter trouble. She went through the lab drawer by drawer, cabinet by cabinet, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. When she was done, she studied the meager collection she’d assembled: a few scalpels, some chemical reagents, and a box containing small vials of a tranquilizer. Nothing that would be very effective against men armed with automatic weapons.
Doctors were supposed to do no harm, but she would defend herself. To start with, she filled several syringes with the tranquilizer. She had some doubts as to how much of a deterrent they would be, but she felt more in control with even rudimentary defenses in place.
Next, she cast around for something else to occupy her time and her mind. She considered updating Chase’s files to reflect his time of death and the circumstances, but her emotions were too raw right now. Her head and her heart both ached, and it took everything she had just to keep moving.
After a bit, she checked to see what food supplies she had on hand. The pickings were pretty slim, but she settled on eating two of the breakfast sandwiches that Chase liked. The emotional toll of the day’s events had left her totally exhausted. Once she was finished eating, she made herself a pallet in the back corner of the lab out of sight of the door and stretched out, making sure to keep a scalpel in easy reach.
Then she cried herself to sleep.
• • •
MARISOL JOLTED UPRIGHT from a sound sleep, her pulse racing. For several seconds, she blinked up at the ceiling and tried to make sense of why she was sleeping on the floor in her lab. Then the memories of what had happened came flooding back along with a resurgence of grief and pain. Chase had been murdered by the guards.
She was about to stand up when a noise caught her attention. What was that? Closing her eyes to listen better, she waited to see if she heard it again. There it was. She had no idea what made that soft rustling sound, but it was definitely coming from somewhere on the other side of the lab.
Were the guards back? Only one way to find out. She crawled over to the counter in the center of the room. After pausing to listen again, she peeked around the edge toward the entrance to the lab. Relieved to find herself alone, she let out a slow breath. Checking the time, she was surprised to learn she’d slept for several hours, and it was nearly dinnertime.
Most of the guards would be either on duty or in the cafeteria, which meant the hall outside the lab would be all but deserted. She’d gather her arsenal and her laptop in preparation for making a run for her quarters at the opposite end of the building.
Before she’d gone two steps, that same rustling noise whispered through the room. She spun around searching desperately for whoever was playing games with her. Except for her, the room was still vacant.
She crept closer to the entrance to see if perhaps the noise originated out in the hall. But no, she heard it again, this time coming from behind her. There was only one place she hadn’t checked—Chase’s cell.
That was the last place she wanted to go right now, but what choice did she have? Her pulse was pounding in her head so loudly that she was surprised she could hear the noise over it. Drawing a deep breath, she stepped in front of the door, keeping her eyes elevated so she didn’t have to see the outline of Chase’s corpse under his makeshift shroud.
There was no one in the small room, but her relief was short-lived when she heard the sound again, this time accompanied by a low grunt. She stumbled back a step when she realized the source of the noise was right at her feet. The blanket covering Chase’s body rippled as if his body was twitching. Her mind tried to reject what she was seeing. He was dead. She knew that for a fact. His pupils had been fixed. There’d been no pulse, and his lungs hadn’t drawn a single breath no matter how hard she’d fought to bring him back.
But evidently facts didn’t mean anything, because a hand slipped out from under the edge of the blanket, the fingers clenching into a tight fist as she looked on in horror. Finally, her training kicked in as she dropped to the floor and yanked the blanket off. When she laid her fingers alongside Chase’s neck, he had a pulse. Ragged and slow, but definitely there. Guilt warred with relief when Chase slowly turned his head and his blue eyes blinked up at her.
“God, Chase, I thought you were dead.”
When she tried to take his hand in hers, he yanked it back out of reach and snarled, “Get away.”
Her heart broke. “Please, Chase, let me help you. I swear I would’ve never left you lying here on the floor like this if I’d known you were alive.”
His head thrashed back and forth. “Get away. Don’t want to hurt you. No control.”
Then a flash of burnt orange washed over the whites of his eyes. With a growl that sounded more animal than human, he made a grab for her. The danger he presented finally sank in. She scrambled back out of reach and through the door. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, but he almost made it to his feet before she managed to hit the button to close the cell door.
What had the beating done to him? Something profound for sure, because the man she’d known was nowhere to be seen. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the one staring at her from the other side of the glass was a cold-bl
ooded killer.
5
* * *
Every inch of Chase’s skin burned as feeling returned to his nerves. The sludge in his veins flowed slowly as it drove back the chill of death, a familiar sensation. He’d been through the process before, lately more often than he liked.
What was different this time was tracking his keeper’s every move through an angry orange haze. Why the hell had he warned her to get away? He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to fuck her. Hard and fast. Then again, slow and sweet. His instincts demanded he coax her back into the cell, so he could get his hands that lush body. Yeah, he would drag her over to that narrow cot, where they could get to know each other in a whole new way. He wanted—no, needed—to tangle his fingers in that sleek fall of blond hair and watch those dark eyes stare up at him in a fog of passion as he showed her everything he knew about pleasuring a woman. Damn, he was so hard it hurt.
“Come here, Marisol. You know you want to.” He smiled to encourage her. Or maybe not, judging from the way she immediately retreated another few steps. “I’ll make it good for you. I promise.”
She started to step back again but then reversed directions and came closer to the cracked glass door. “Chase, I don’t know what’s going on right now, but this isn’t like you. Did the guards drug you again?”
He laughed low and ugly. “Why would they? They were having too much fun killing me—again.”
Now she looked more worried than scared. “You’re not making sense, Chase. If they’d killed you, you wouldn’t be standing here talking to me right now.”
He knew the truth was a secret, but how could she not see it standing right there in front of her? She’d read his DNA. Watched him heal. Knew he wasn’t like other men. How long would it take her to piece it all together? Unable to stand still, he paced back and forth in front of the glass, kicking the remnants of the chair out of his way.
As he prowled, the orange haze faded, slowly releasing its hold on him. It was a relief to feel the fury die, leaving a growing sense of calm in its wake. Everybody knew each Paladin came hardwired with the ability to survive death. That was the good news. The bad was that the gift varied from man to man, leaving Chase with no idea how many times he would be able to find his way back out of the darkness intact. Hell, even when things proceeded normally, the reawakening came with all of the primitive urges running at full throttle—the need to breathe, to eat, to mate. He paused as his gaze flicked back to his keeper.
Yeah, that last urge had yet to fade much at all.
He resumed pacing. It wasn’t talked about much, but he’d heard horror stories about what happened when a Paladin ran out of luck. He’d never seen it happen firsthand, but he knew people who had. By all reports, the poor bastard woke up crazy and out to kill everyone in sight. That’s why their Handlers kept syringes handy that were loaded with a lethal combination of chemicals to shove into the Paladin’s vein to end the pain and insanity. It was a terrible burden for them to carry, but it was the last gift they could give to the men who had fought the good fight for too long.
There was no way to know if this brush with insanity was a harbinger of things to come or if it had just been a side effect of dying twice in such a short time. He clenched his fists and fought the urge to punch the wall. It was one thing to die in the service of a higher purpose fighting alongside his brothers-in-arms.
But dying here, trapped like a rat in this cage, was such a fucking waste.
Well, if he was going to end his existence in this world, he was going to do it on his own terms. He made one last lap of the cell before coming to a stop in front of the door.
“Let me out, Doc.”
Marisol stared back at him, a scalpel clutched tightly in her hand. Was she planning on skewering him or was she standing guard in case Dan and his buddies came back?
When she didn’t immediately move toward the door, he tried again. “I’m back in control and won’t hurt you. The guards will. If not tonight, soon.”
Although he’d still give anything to bed her right here, right now. Deciding he’d best keep that distracting tidbit to himself, he maintained a calm facade and waited for her to make up her mind exactly who it was she trusted right now—him or her coworkers.
It would cost him a lot of time and energy to finish breaking out of the cell, but he would do it if necessary. Still, it was a relief when she finally nodded and opened the door. To reassure her that he presented no threat, he retreated to the back wall of the cell.
She didn’t come in, but that was all right. They both knew that was smart on her part. He let her study him for a few seconds before breaking the silence. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Apology accepted.” Her eyebrows dipped down low over her eyes. “And I’m sorry I left you for dead in here. I don’t understand how that happened. I was so sure.”
“We’ve got bigger problems on our hands. The gloves are off when it comes to the guards. If they don’t come after us tonight, they will soon. They left you alone this time, but that’s not going to always be the case.”
She still looked doubtful. She could live in her little fantasy world, but he would fight his way out of this place or die trying. And if he came back batshit crazy, at least any men he killed would have deserved to die. The only problem was that if he left Marisol behind, then he would be no better than her mysterious employers, the ones who’d stranded her here with that bunch of animals. Right now, the guards were still on their leashes, but he wasn’t lying to her about the prospects of that continuing for much longer.
“Come on, Doc. You’re smart. You have to know time is running out for both of us. Either we work together to get out, or we both die here.”
Die again, that is. And his gut said the next time he quit breathing, the man who woke up wouldn’t be the same Chase Mosely who’d taken pride in being a Paladin. The warrior who stood the line and fought to keep the world safe from harm.
“You can trust me or you can trust them. Your choice.”
Before he could come up with another, more convincing argument, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She waved her hand in the direction of the hall outside of the lab. “What do you suggest? They patrol the halls here inside the building and perimeter of the compound outside. The whole place is also surrounded by a tall fence topped with barbed wire.”
Then she pointed at a bunch of junk sitting on the counter. “They also have batons, Tasers, and rifles. We have a few scalpels, some reagents, and half a dozen syringes filled with a tranquilizer. Not exactly an even match.”
She wasn’t wrong, but he was impressed with her ingenuity. “Now you’re thinking, Doc. Can we rig a bomb or even a flash fire with the chemicals? If so, they’ll have to evacuate when it goes off. Maybe we can slip out in the chaos.”
The way she bit her lower lip as she gave the matter some thought was sexy as hell. Rather than risk her noticing the effect she was having on him, he turned away. “If I’m going to blend in, I can’t be covered in blood. Why don’t you see what you can come up with while I take a quick shower.”
She nodded. “I’ll get you some fresh clothes and then study the ingredients in the reagents.”
• • •
MARISOL READ THE list of chemicals on the bottles and tried to come up with some idea of what could be done with them. She’d studied organic chemistry, not bomb making, but at least the bottles were labeled flammable. If nothing else, they could pour the stuff on the counter and light a match. Better yet, they could cut up a lab towel for wicks and put together some good old-fashioned firebombs.
As she cut strips of fabric, her attention shifted back to the mystery of the man in the cell. Chase had really scared her earlier. There was no denying that. She also felt guilty for leaving him for dead when he clearly hadn’t died.
But a worried voice in the back of her mind kept insisting that, regardless of the clear evidence to the contrary, he had died. She’d seen enough corpses over the years to know one
when she saw one. No pulse. No breath. All the intelligence and life in those stunning blue eyes of his had been gone. She’d grieved over his passing, sobbing her heart out until sheer exhaustion had won out over her pain.
And yet, there he was in the next room acting as if none of it had ever happened, his bruises already fading away. No, that wasn’t right. When he’d lumbered to his feet, Chase had been anything but normal. Even now, the memory of how he’d watched her through the glass gave her the creeps. Why had the sclera of his eyes turned from white to orange and back again?
So many questions and no time to figure out the answers. There was no telling when the guards would return or what they’d do when they got there.
She paused to listen. The water was no longer running, so Chase would be rejoining her shortly. Her pulse kicked it up a notch, wondering which version of the man would be walking out of the cell. Gripping a scalpel in her hand, she turned to face the door.
He stopped just shy of where she stood waiting. After glancing at her hand, his mouth quirked up in a small grin. “I’d really hate it if you tried to gut me with that, Doc. I’ve already bled enough for one day.”
Leave it to the man to make a joke of a grim situation. She put the blade back on the counter within easy reach. “I thought we could make some firebombs from the reagents.”
His smile got bigger as he studied her handiwork. “Good idea. If we set off one or two, the fire alarm will force everyone to evacuate. We can get lost in the crowd.”
Well, she could. Him not so much. As long as she’d been there, she’d never seen any of the guards wearing the distinctive red sweats that were the only pants that her employer had provided for Chase.
“About that—”
Before she could say more, Chase clapped his hand over her mouth, his expression suddenly cold. She tried to pry herself free of his grasp, but froze when he leaned in close to whisper, “Someone is headed this way.”
His hand dropped back down to his side, but not before he grabbed one of the other scalpels off the counter. “Hide the pieces of fabric. Stay calm.”