The Lionman Kidnapping Read online

Page 4


  “Unbelievable,” Marcus muttered. No denying what the doctor had done.

  “What is unbelievable is the fact you still protest the results.”

  “Have you looked at me?” The face in the mirror was not the man he knew. Marcus, before everything happened, had weighed a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. Stood a skinny five feet seven. Thin hair on top, looking at going bald by thirty. Skin pockmarked by rough teen years rife with acne. Now he was well over six feet, thickly muscled with hair ridiculously thick. His skin was clear, of not only blemishes but scars too.

  “I see a man in his prime. Excellent physique. Younger than his almost forty years.”

  A handsome guy if you liked them thick and hairy. “Problem is I’m no longer a man.” No longer himself.

  “Are you sure of that?” Cerberus riposted. “You sound like one, full of doubts and thoughts. Not an animal in the least.”

  Now perhaps. But a few days ago… He remembered running on all fours in the woods, intent on chasing a rabbit. Eager to catch it. Feel the hot juices as he chomped.

  “Trust me when I say the monster lurks not far.” The lucidity was but a short relapse.

  “You’re not a monster. You need to see your abilities more like a new limb that needs to be trained in proper use.”

  “Trained?” Marcus snorted. “How exactly am I supposed to train when I’m a prisoner?”

  “Show yourself to be civil and maybe you’ll earn some freedom.”

  “I’ll be civil only if you keep your needles and piss cups away.” He eyed the uncapped needle in Cerberus’s hand.

  “We need to see what’s going on in your body,” Cerberus exclaimed, pressing the tip of the needle against clean skin.

  His washed skin. He’d slept long enough they’d even managed to bathe him. He wore clean white scrubs and a sheet tucked tightly around his hips.

  “No.” He bucked in the restraints, roaring as the needle poked and took what it wanted.

  And he could do nothing about it.

  The beast in him rose, roaring and pushing. Snarling loud enough that Cerberus stepped back, only to grab another syringe and wag it. “Don’t make me put you to sleep.”

  “Let me go!” A useless demand.

  “If you cooperated, this wouldn’t be necessary.” That prick Cerberus sounded so fucking prissy saying it.

  “Cooperating made me into a monster.”

  “Hardly a monster.”

  “Your daughter called me a lionman.”

  “Apt enough even though you have more than just feline DNA meshed with yours.”

  “Monster science,” he spat.

  “Revolutionary medicine,” Cerberus corrected. “With astonishing results. You seem to have forgotten what life was like before.” A reminder of the car accident that had left him broken and in a coma. Hooked to machines. No better than a vegetable. The clinic made an offer to the hospital to care for him, for free. Or so they told him once he woke up.

  Perhaps if he’d experienced the horror of his almost-dead body he’d have a better appreciation.

  But he didn’t. “Better dead than becoming something else.”

  “Only if you let it control you. Mind over matter,” Cerberus stated, tapping his temple.

  “Is that what you keep telling yourself?” His words turned sly. “You’ve taken some of the supposed miracle cure. You think it’s doing good. You’re looking younger. Fit. Maybe your cock is finally working again without a little pill. But inside, it’s changing you. Twisting your thoughts. Fucking with your needs. You’ll see. Soon you won’t be you anymore.”

  “You’re right. I won’t. I’ll be something better.” Cerberus pressed the button that put Marcus in a sleeping position again.

  Then left.

  The next time Marcus saw him, he refused to talk. Wouldn’t eat. Spent his time roaring and pulling. Hoping each time he strained that something would break.

  Something did. His mind snapped.

  Chapter Eight

  “What’s wrong with him?” Jayda asked staring at a video monitor with the channel set on Marcus’ room.

  It had been five days since they’d captured the lionman, and she’d yet to leave. The first day was because the helicopter needed repair. Then there was a sighting of a project in the woods that took a few days to hunt. Now a late fall thunderstorm kept the chopper grounded.

  But most of all, she just didn’t want to leave. Felt almost compelled to stay. Which made no sense. Jayda didn’t even like the clinic. She only showed up because her father was here. She spent most of her time, when she wasn’t working, at her home in South America where it was warm.

  She should be there right now, and yet instead, she’d just finished her second jog of the day. Boredom made her exercise. It also was a wakeup call. Time to go. The moment the weather lifted, she would fly out of here.

  First, though, she tracked down her father who’d been working quite a bit since she’d captured the lionman. Her daddy wouldn’t say much about the project other than he was fascinating.

  She totally agreed, hence why she’d spent the last few days not going anywhere near him.

  But having decided she would be leaving, possibly within a few hours, she thought, why not pop in for a peek?

  What she saw shocked on the screen. The lionman looked more feral than ever. As well as gaunt.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked, noticing the tubes running into his body.

  “He’s been degrading health-wise since we got him,” her father said, barely paying her any mind. Story of her life.

  “Meaning?”

  “He won’t eat. The nutrients we’re feeding him aren’t making a difference. He’s stopped speaking.”

  “Giving you the silent treatment?” She’d done that a time or two in her youth. Problem was Daddy never actually noticed.

  Her dad shook his head. “More like he doesn’t know how. He’s reverted back to a more primal state. We’re not even able to get single words from him, let alone anything strung into a sentence.”

  “Did you treat him with more of the serum?” Had they pushed him over the edge where the animal genes coursing within outnumbered the man?

  “No,” her father sputtered, his frustration clear. “He’s been given nothing but food.”

  Jayda stared at the screen, the vibrant man from the cave a limp, emaciated version of himself. It bothered her to see him brought so low.

  “He’s dying.” Willing himself to die or unable to survive as a prisoner, either way, the result was the same.

  “He is.”

  For some reason, she blurted out, “Stop it.”

  “I wish I could. We’ve tried everything.” Her father shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “There has to be something. Have you zapped him?”

  Clear reproach shone in her father’s gaze. “Despite your belief, we’ve never zapped anybody.”

  No, just blended their genomes with a cocktail of beasts.

  “Have you talked to him? Maybe he’s feeling lonely.”

  “I’ve been in daily to speak with him. As has Adrian, even other staff. He’s not responded to anyone unless it’s to snap his teeth or growl.”

  A crease formed in her forehead. “You said he won’t eat. What have you tried giving him? Did you ensure he had some fresh raw meat?” Because if he’d turned feral, cooked and processed foods might not appeal.

  “We’ve tried everything. From fruits and vegetables to starches and carbs. Rare steak. Ice cream. Yesterday, we even tried dangling a live turkey in front of his face. And nada.” Daddy shook his head.

  “You can’t expect him to attack something while he’s bound.” She goggled her father. “Untie him. Give him some freedom to move.”

  “We tried that already.” Her father’s lips compressed.

  “What happened?”

  “He almost killed himself bashing his head on the wall.”

  “Oh shit.”
<
br />   “We had to flood the room with gas to knock him out and get him back in the bed.”

  “There must be something we can try,” Jayda mused aloud. She couldn’t help but remember the man in the cave. The bitterness in his voice. Angry because he felt betrayed. Seeking revenge, which gave him focus.

  Emotion was what had driven him before.

  Her father left to do his rounds of the other projects, and Jayda spent a moment staring at Marcus. He lay prone, eyes open and staring. Unseeing. Almost dead.

  Totally unacceptable.

  Before she could think twice, she was in the room with Marcus. She tapped his scruffy chin. “Wakey, wakey, kitty.”

  He didn’t twitch, didn’t even blink those staring eyes, yet she noted a slight hitch in his breathing.

  She leaned forward. “I can’t believe you’re being such a coward.”

  His breath stopped.

  “Giving up. I didn’t take you for a suck-ass pussy.” Said with all the disdain she could muster.

  It worked.

  He fixed her with a dark gaze, the green light in his eyes dull. “Arrgggggr.”

  “What’s that?” She cupped a hand to her ear. “I can’t understand on account you’re talking monster.”

  A tiny prick of light lit within his pupil. “Gggggggg.”

  “Still not catching it, kitty. If you want to say something, spit it out.” She stared at him, noting the light in his eyes getting steadier.

  “Gggo.”

  “One syllable? It’s a start. But you’ll have to do better than that if you want me to leave.”

  “Go. A. Way.” Each word separate and slow.

  She leaned closer, noticing the golden, furred line of his jaw, the scent of him, clean, yet still hinting of musk. She inhaled and moved even closer.

  “I ain’t leaving yet, kitty. Matter of fact, I might stick around for a while.”

  “Go away.” This time the demand had an imperious tone to it. The clarity in his eyes brightened.

  Pleasure unfurled within her as he responded. “Don’t tell me you’re still sore I bested you.”

  “Tricked me,” he huffed.

  “I did.” Said with a smile. Jayda turned from him and moved to the back of the table, knowing it would drive him a little nuts. “Little ol’ me bested the big bad kitty.”

  “Drugged me. Not fair.” A hint of petulance in the words, and he was becoming more and more coherent. Responding to human interaction, which begged the question, was daddy just not feeding him enough mentally?

  She circled back to the front and stood before Marcus, hands on the hips of her black jeans, her hair loose over her shoulders. He might still be lying down, but he craned to keep her in sight.

  “Are you demanding a rematch, kitty?”

  “Let me loose.” No mistaking the sensual grin on his lips.

  It wasn’t the lips on her face that loosened in reply. She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “You know, I’m tempted to do that, kitty. But those silly guards, they’d probably come running in here and panic. I’d hate for them to shoot me when they’re trying to put you down.”

  “Bad aim.”

  She couldn’t stop the deep chuckle. “Bad aim, indeed. I hear you’re not eating.”

  “Not hungry.” Grumbled with a scowl.

  “Not talking either.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing to say.”

  “Yet you’re talking to me.”

  “Because you won’t go away.” Said with a hint of exasperation, something she specialized at.

  “I would, but the helicopter is broken,” she lied. “Could take a while to get the new part.”

  “Go wait somewhere else. I don’t want to talk to you.” He spoke with a gruff undertone but was completely understandable.

  “Then stop talking, kitty.” She leaned close. “Or are you going to admit you like chatting with me? Does the big bad lionman have a thing for chocolate honey?”

  He sucked in a breath. “Not attracted.”

  “So if I put my hand on your cock, it won’t say hello?” she purred. Her gaze dropped to the spot below his waist. The sheet definitely tented.

  “That’s abuse.”

  “Only if you don’t give me permission.” She cast him a sly glance. “Tell me to touch you, kitty.”

  “Stop it.” Hissed at her, yet his eyes blazed, and the heat of him warmed the space between them.

  “Do you really want me to stop, kitty? Or would you rather I touch you? Because I’ll bet it’s been a long time since a woman touched you. And teased you.” She stepped closer and held her hand not even an inch from him. He stiffened. All over.

  “This is cruel.” The tone was broken.

  “I keep offering to put you out of your misery.” She leaned close that enough her hair dangled to hide them. Her lips were close enough for her breath to touch his. “Do you want me to touch you, kitty?”

  “I…” He said no more, only stared.

  It was enough to ignite a pulse between her legs. To bring her close enough she could—

  “Jayda!” The single word barked through the speaker in the ceiling, ruining the moment, halting her actions.

  She withdrew with a sigh.

  “You are being paged.” His gaze flicked to the speaker high overhead.

  “Just my daddy. He can wait. We weren’t done.” She trailed a finger up his arm, dancing over the thin fabric, noticing the fine tremor in his flesh.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I suppose just sex where you don’t talk is out of the question?”

  “You’re incredible.” Muttered with a slight shake of his head.

  “Oh, I am,” she said with a husky chuckle. “Wait until you feel—"

  “Jayda, that’s quite enough!” her daddy yelled.

  “Cerberus is mad,” Marcus observed.

  “More like being overprotective a little too late.” She rolled her eyes. “Guess we’ll have to finish this later, kitty.”

  “No later. You need to leave and don’t come back.”

  “You’re not in a position to demand,” she retorted. And why wasn’t he jumping at what she offered? She could tell he desired her. So why refuse?

  “I don’t want to see you.”

  “And I don’t want to listen to my father lecture me about playing with his pets. But we can’t always get what we want.”

  He clamped his lips.

  “Are you gonna say goodbye, kitty?”

  He closed his eyes and remained silent.

  “Ooh, look at you faking it. It won’t work. Daddy knows, and once I leave, you’ll have to deal with those other morons.”

  Not one word spoken and yet she could have sworn she heard him say, Fuck anyone else.

  She patted him on the cheek. “I’m with you on that, kitty. Fuck the world.”

  Before she could give in to the temptation to stay—which tugged at her more than it should have—she exited the wing housing Marcus and ran into her dad. “Before you start freaking out, sorry I visited your lionman. I know you hate it when I do that.” Mostly on account she had a tendency of riling up the patients with her mere presence.

  To her surprise, her father beamed. “Actually, I’m glad you did. That’s the most coherent he’s been since his arrival. You managed to snap him out of his funk. Which is why Adrian is about to enlist your aid.”

  “Aid doing what? I thought we took care of all the projects in the wood.”

  “I’m talking about Marcus.”

  “What about him?” She played dumb. “You don’t need me since he’s already locked up. Now that you know he’s faking, I’m sure you can handle him.”

  “Except I don’t think he was faking for us. He only appears to respond to you.”

  Again, a spurt of pleasure followed by a deep cold as a chain of obligation wound around her freedom. “I’m sure that’s just a coincidence. And even if it’s not, I’m supposed to leave. I’ve got business to attend.” A job in So
uth America then a pleasure spree in France that would end in tragedy—for others.

  “They’ll have to wait. You’re needed here.”

  Not I need you. With Daddy, some things never changed. Business first. And family…well, family was there to help business.

  But she wasn’t a malleable little girl anymore. She had her own needs and wishes. She wasn’t about to let them dictate her actions. So why the fuck did she say, “I can probably give it a few more days.”

  A few days to screw around with lionman, possibly quite nakedly, to get that urge out of her system. Get him talking to her daddy again, and then she’d leave.

  And maybe this time she’d stay away instead of getting drawn back over and over again to this place—where she was reborn.

  Chapter Nine

  Impatience thrummed inside Adrian as he waited, hands tucked behind his back, for Cerberus to arrive at his office with his daughter. He’d demanded their presence the moment he saw the transformation in Marcus.

  But how to convince the woman to stay?

  Knowing Aloysius, he’d already broached Jayda with the subject of staying longer. Knowing Jayda, she’d bitched and moaned. Possibly needed to be coaxed with money. But while she might negotiate hard, she would stay. Adrian would make sure of that. A few days at least, which might be all that was needed.

  Watching Jayda talking to Marcus, actually chatting, had given him an idea. A theory that might explain some anomalies in his research.

  The biggest issue Adrian ran into with his cure was the humanity—and in some cases sanity—of the subjects. It started not long after the physical changes. The projects each experienced it differently. Some claimed to hear voices in their heads. Others experienced drastic mood swings. Primal urges, especially those of the hunt, rose and pounded through the veins.

  The allure of the wild could take over. Actually had in a few cases. But a few managed to come back from the brink. To find their way, so to speak. Like Luke. A project kept locked up for his and everyone else’s safety until the day he met a certain nurse. The failure that used to haunt Adrian now gave him hope, because if Luke could rein in his baser impulses, then surely others could, too.

 

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