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He shrugged and waved a hand her way. “Nothing. But I do have a surprise for you.” He crossed the room to the table against the far wall and lifted a cover from the couple of metal platters resting on top. Even from across the room the smell assaulted Rease’s nose, making her mouth water and her stomach to quiver in anticipation.

  “Wild boar.” She breathed in wonder and he nodded.

  “Fresh kill.”

  She wiped the drool from her chin. “How is that possible? We haven’t spotted boar in over a year. I didn’t think there were any left.”

  “Not in the wilds, no. But we have a reserve park where we raise these…” He frowned as if realizing he’d said too much.

  Another sickening revelation of the life of the elite.

  “You hungry?” he asked instead.

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him she knew he was deliberately changing the subject. She wanted to tell him to shove the meat up his ass. How dare they have so much while the rest of her kin starved? But she was too weak to do any of that. Ashamed of herself, she nearly bowled him over as she ran to the table and grabbed the meat with her hands, disregarding the cutlery placed beside it. Juices ran down her chin, but she ignored it. Just as she ignored his warning to take it easy and to not overdo it. She didn’t care. At this moment in time, she didn’t care about anything other than the food in front of her.

  Her actions came back to haunt her as she lay in her cot later that evening, her belly full for the first time in years and the new clothes the doc provided her with nestled softly against her clean skin. Only then had her weakness escalated to guilt. The guilt of lying here tonight with a full belly while the rest of her kin fell asleep to the rumblings of hungry stomachs. The guilt of feeling gratitude to the doc for looking after her. The guilt that she found his company pleasant, and she actually enjoyed being around him. That fact alone scared her more than anything else about her prison.

  5

  That night set a precedent for a routine. At least twice a week, she would be summoned to the Doc’s quarters where he would always have clean water, clean clothes, and food prepared. Rease hated herself for it, but she looked forward to these evenings as it was a break in her otherwise dismal routine. Even when he came to her cell, they still had eyes watching their every move. But here in his quarters, they could be themselves. The doc actually had a sense of humor and had Rease laughing uncontrollably at times. She had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh.

  Most importantly, she was getting stronger. They feasted on wild boar or sweet fruits and fresh eggs, things she hadn’t tasted in years The regular intake of protein was making her body stronger, and she was well aware to get out of here alive she needed her strength. She wasn’t as light headed anymore. She was thinking clearer. And even with the regular bloodletting, her chi was growing. Not enough to allow her to escape, but it was occasionally sputtering to life, if only for the briefest of moments. She held onto that rationalization in her head. The visits were important for that reason alone. It had nothing to do with the doc or the pleasure of his company. She couldn’t think that way. That thought was messed up and wrong on some many levels.

  So was the relationship they had begun. She hadn’t meant for her plan to go this route, had never dreamed it would evolve into this. But evolve it did. Maybe it was her way of thanking him for looking out for her. She knew her life here could be much, much worse. Or maybe it happened from sheer loneliness and desire for kindness and human contact. Whatever the reason, the physical relationship started with a simple disagreement.

  They had been in front of the hearth. She was in the chair, and he was sitting on the floor at her knees as they argued the merits of “Gone with the Wind.”

  “I don’t know why it offends you so.” Doc stared up at her with fake innocence. “It’s just a tale of survival after civil war.”

  “Survival? Bullshit. I can’t believe you even asked me to read that. It’s a story intertwined with slavery and trivial characters. And don’t even get me started on Scarlett. I wanted to slap her senseless before the book was done and most of the others as well. The only thing I liked about the book was the plantation name, Tara. The whole idea is ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, who names a house? But pretty just the same. It truly was the only thing I liked about the whole book.”

  “So you’re saying a piece of literary history offended you?”

  “Offended me? No, it pissed me off. And it pisses me off even more that you recommended it to me, and I swear… are you laughing at me? You are laughing at me,” she squealed in anger as she whacked him lightly on top of the head with said book.

  “I’m not laughing at you.” The soft chuckle rumbling from his chest belied his words as he knelt up to her eye level and caught her hand before it could deliver a second blow. “And I wouldn’t do that again if I were you. Remember, every action has a consequence.”

  His light gray eyes stared into her blue ones so close she could see the pupils dilate as his breath fanned her cheek. Unable to tear her gaze away, her words caught in her throat as she whispered, “What sort of consequence?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. His head tipped slowly toward hers as if unsure of her reaction. Rease didn’t attempt to back away, and he appeared to take it as consent. His lips met hers with the softest of caresses, as gentle as a summer’s breeze. It lasted for mere seconds, yet it was enough to send her heart rate spiking into overdrive and leaving a feeling of disappointment in her fluttering belly as he pulled away.

  “I’m sorry. That was—”

  Rease’s mouth covered his with a ravenous intensity, and her hands fisted the material on his chest, pulling him closer. Her desire to simply touch him overwhelmed the voice of reason in her head.

  The kiss was primitive, raw, and indicative of her need for physical contact. Her need to feel alive.

  The self-loathing simmered below the surface even as she allowed him to carry her into his bedroom, into his bed. She was well aware she was allowing her captor to have her body in a way she had only given once before, but she didn’t care. At this moment in time, she wanted what was happening. Needed it to feel human again. The gentleness and kindness she had witnessed from him far outweighed reason, tomorrow be damned.

  She refused to think too deeply about it or the insanity surrounding the whole screwed up dynamic. If it helped her get through another day in this hell-hole, then so be it. She knew they were both using each other for reasons neither of them wanted to confess aloud.

  Their time together was the only thing that kept her sane. Her cold prison cell always resonated with her neighbor’s crazy cries and the discord of pain and madness that constantly echoed through the corridor. It was tiresome defending her sanity from eroding away. At least here with the doc, she could let her guard down and relax if only for a moment.

  He never let her stay the night. Even after their lovemaking, he only allowed her to sleep for a bit before he called a guard to escort her back to her cell. She couldn’t understand why. He told her it was for their own protection that the guards not discover their relationship. What a load of crap. The guards knew and taunted her about it every chance they got, especially Greasy. He revelled in whispering malicious remarks to her as her transported her to and from her cell. Things like how he was so much more of a man, and how he could give her more bang for her buck than the doc ever could.

  Rease ignored everything he said. Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe allowing him to say those things to her only encouraged him more. Maybe she should tell the doc, but she wanted no trouble. And Greasy was trouble; she knew that. She couldn’t have anything interfering with her visits. She needed to grow stronger.

  She also used her familiarity with the doc to press one more advantage as well. She had convinced him he was taking too much blood, and that her weakened state would affect their lovemaking. She had encouraged her statements with fake fainting spells and weakness. Like the concerned being he was, he fell for it and her blo
od-letting had lessened. Even tonight he had taken merely half of what he usually took, and Rease awoke from her customary post love making/ blood-letting nap feeling refreshed and energized. She had been feeling ill these past couple of weeks, so this reprieve was appreciated.

  Knowing it wouldn’t be long before she was sent back to her cell, she reached for the doc across the large bed to say her goodbyes. All she found was the empty spot where he normally slept. She rolled out of bed and grabbed her shift from the floor, throwing it over her head. Padding barefoot into the outer quarters, she expected to find him sitting in front of the hearth smoking his pipe. She found him there a lot lately, staring into the flames as if something weighed heavily on his mind. But the room was empty and bereft of the comforting smell of his tobacco. Glancing at the bathroom, she found the door wide open and that room empty as well.

  Odd. He never left her alone here. He never said it out loud, but he was as transparent as glass. He still didn’t trust her enough to leave her alone.

  Curiosity reared its head. His living quarters, although luxurious compared to her standards, were not huge. They mainly consisted of a bedroom, bathroom, and an open common room. And of course, the tiny lab that was off to the side where he took her blood. Seeing as he wasn’t in any of the former three rooms, he had to be in there. Maybe work was his treatment for insomnia.

  On silent feet, she approached the closed door and listened for any sign he was inside. A slight tinkling of glass and scraping metal told her he was. She hesitated. Should she just go right on in? She had never been so bold before. Besides, that room was not one she entered into willingly at the best of times. But curiosity overrode her indecision and with a gentle knock, she pushed the door open.

  “There you are…”

  She stopped in horror as the sight that met her eyes finally registered with her brain. He was there all right, sitting at the table where she usually sat with the blood tube hanging out of her arm. He wasn’t hooked up to any tube, but the cylinder he had plunged into his arm contained the same red substance stolen from her on a regular basis. He was injecting himself with blood.

  “Rease,” he cried. His shock met with her own as the door was ripped away by an unseen hand and slammed firmly in her face. She felt the familiar presence of chi prickling at her skin, but it wasn’t hers. It had come from the doc. But that was impossible. That would mean… that would mean he was a New Blood. He couldn’t be.

  Fear joined her shock, and she ran to the door to the corridor. It was locked as always, but that didn’t prevent her from yanking on it with all her might to try to escape. Not that she had anywhere to escape to, but she was running on adrenaline, and the need get as far away from him as she could overrode her common sense.

  “Rease,” he called to her from across the room, but it only made her try harder to open the door. “Rease, it’s locked. You can’t run away; you know that. Look at me.”

  She knew he was right. Squaring her shoulders, she turned. He stood by the lab door, his shirt sleeve rolled up and a tiny bead of blood still lingering on his puncture wound.

  Her lip curled in disgust. “Was that my blood?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t even try to lie.

  “Why?” Her voice was a mere whisper, and he closed his eyes and sighed.

  “Rease, I can explain.”

  “Please do,” she interjected harshly. “And begin with how you slammed that door in my face. That was chi, plain and simple. Are you a New Blood?”

  “Technically, no.”

  “What the fuck does that mean? You are or you aren’t.”

  “I’m not. At least I wasn’t born one. Not like you.”

  “Then how…” She paused as a previous conversation popped into her head.

  The blood we take from you and other New Bloods is then chemically altered and infused into the test subjects in the hopes that it will combine with theirs and give them the same ability you carry.

  “You’ve been using my altered blood on yourself? Giving yourself power?”

  “I… please step away from the door, Rease, before you draw the attention of the guards. Let’s sit down and discuss this rationally.”

  “Rationally?” Her laughter sounded mad, even to her own ears. “There’s nothing rational about this whole situation. You’ve just told me you’ve been using me as your personal blood-bag all along while I thought you rescued me from that very fate instead. I fell for the whole ‘knight in shining armor’ ruse. Well done, Doc. You pulled it off perfectly.”

  “That’s not how it is.”

  “No?” She was seething with anger and totally confused as to why she was so angry. He was a Prezedant elite. Did she expect any different?

  “No,” he emphasized. “And will you please come sit down, so I can explain?”

  She didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want to draw the guards before she had a chance to hear his bullshit story. Stepping away from the door she approached him, keeping the small table as a buffer between them.

  They stared at each other in silence. “Okay, explain why you’ve been taking my blood and using it on yourself. And this had better be good.”

  He cleared his throat a couple of times and opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he took a couple of steps toward the cold hearth before turning back Rease’s way.

  “Do you know where you come from? Where New Bloods come from?”

  She shrugged. “Everyone knows that the gods created us in wake of the settlers destroying the earth. My people say we were chosen to survive while most humans did not.”

  “Your people are wrong. You were not ‘chosen’. You were created, yes, but not by gods. Not any gods you’d care to have faith in anyways.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “New Bloods… you and your people were created in a lab. A result of numerous experiments trying to find a way to fight back against the biological poisons killing mankind. A happy result of some compatible combinations in a test tube.”

  “You lie,” Rease said.

  “I speak the truth. I know it’s the truth because I was there.”

  “Again, lies,” she spat out. “The Shift Wars happened almost a hundred years ago, and New Bloods have been around almost as long. You were not there.”

  “Oh, but I was,” he replied softly. “I was there at the downfall of mankind. I was there as they fought to survive. I was there for the birth of your new species for I helped birth it.”

  “This is bullshit.” She pivoted on her heel and headed for the door, ready to call the guard and go back to her cell. Hell, she even hoped it was Greasy who showed up. She felt like picking a fight right about now, and she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather give a bloody nose to.

  “Your blood is the key, Rease.”

  She paused at his words but didn’t look back. “The key to what?”

  “The key to everything that has happened to the world.”

  She shook her head, still not looking at him. “Just more mumbo jumbo, Doc.”

  “Then listen and I will tell you everything.”

  She hesitated, but her need to know outweighed her anger. Turning back to face him, she raised a brow.

  “It’s true when I say I helped bring about the New Bloods. You were conceived in a lab. My lab. Although he wasn’t known by that title back then, the Prezedant was a colleague of mine. He helped to give life to your kind. We thought we were helping mankind. Fighting back against the diseases killing us all. Instead we created a strand of enhanced humans; ones with powers we could only dream of. But they were only the beginning. The ones we created, they were strong, yes. But the ones conceived naturally, they were beyond anything we could ever have dreamed of. Those New Bloods didn’t need our blood enhancers to develop their chi. It came naturally to them. To put it simply, they were born perfect. They were stronger, more resistant to the poisoned atmosphere and able to heal fatal woun
ds that would kill mere mortals, containing a bio-energy that connected to every living thing on the planet. But that sort of power does not come without a price. The rest of us, the simple humans, the New Bloods not of the light, they coveted that power. They wanted it for themselves. So what did we do? We took it.”

  “So began the purge,” Rease interjected and he nodded.

  “Yes, a genocide really. Your blood enhanced us in ways we could only dream of, and we demanded more and more. We took more than you could give.” A harsh laugh fell from his lips. “In a world where we were already dying from poison, we became addicts. I became an addict. Addicted to the blood of your kind. But the one thing it gave us that it does not give you? Longevity.” He ran a hand over his smooth cheek and along his chin. “How old do you believe me to be, Rease?”

  A sharp pain of unease pierced her stomach. “Thirty-five, possibly forty born years.”

  His grin was weary. “Add another hundred onto that and you’d be closer to the mark.”

  “Impossible,” she whispered.

  “Yes, you would think so. But true. We don’t know why really. That is one of the great mysteries of the universe. But the blood of New Bloods has kept the Prezedant immortal. And I’m ashamed to say, me as well.” He turned to stare at the bloated full moon hanging low in the night sky, sadness evident in the droop of his shoulders. “I’ve been around a long time, Rease. I’ve seen and done things I’ll never be able to forget or forgive myself for. At first I fooled myself into believing what I was doing was for the good of humanity. That what the Prezedant and I were doing was necessary to help mankind survive. But with each passing year, his madness grows. I know that. I’ve seen it. He no longer holds any value to life, save his own. All he knows, all he is obsessed with is immortality and power, and he will stop at nothing to achieve that.” He turned back her way, his eyes filled with sorrow and Rease knew the worst was yet to come.

  “How many?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “How many of my kind have died at your hands?”