Skin Tight

CHAPTER 13

Jasper Rowan was pleased.

Not only had T-89 survived the procedure, he was showing signs of advanced evolution: not one extraordinary ability, but two. T-89 was proof that his methods worked. As a side benefit, the current appeared to have stabilized his psychosis as well. He no longer suffered from seizures, blackouts, or suicidal tendencies.

Of course, these new gifts meant Rowan could no longer safely enter the cell with him. T-89 would very much like to kill him. His aggression had focused outward, lighting reasonably on the man he saw as responsible for his personal woes. It was not, in fact, an inaccurate assessment. That didn’t mean Rowan intended to let T-89 have his way.

Before starting the session, he recorded some notes on the man’s physical appearance. Subject appears to show complete recovery. Cognitive functions restored; mood swings stabilized. Eyes are clear; skin shows no signs of lesions. Muscle mass appears to have increased by as much as 15 percent. Subject is approximately thirty years of age, retrieved from Minneapolis four years ago. Participation in the Pine Grove program yielded unsatisfactory results; therefore, I initiated another treatment, details outlined elsewhere.

He tapped the intercom. “Are you ready to begin?”

“Fuck off.”

The hostility was new, an intriguing development. Before, the subject displayed only despair. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I’ll give you one more chance.”

T-89 got to his feet and came over to the mirrored glass that permitted Rowan to see into his cell. Deliberately, he rotated his right hand and extended the middle finger. “I said, ‘Fuck off.’ Or don’t you speak English, asshole?”

“This recalcitrance benefits no one,” Rowan said reasonably. “And only you will suffer for it.”

“I figure that’s not true. You want me to perform my tricks for you. You need to document what I can do. So you’re not going to torture me in ways that will do me permanent harm. You’re certainly not going to kill me. The way I hear it, you treat Miracle Girl like a fucking queen. So go on, make my life miserable, I dare you.”

“Who’s been talking to you?” Rowan demanded.

And about Gillie, too. The nursing staff and orderlies had express instructions not to gossip with the test subjects. Talk encouraged fraternization, and there was no telling where it might lead. Pretty soon Rowan would have a mutiny on his hands. He couldn’t permit that, not with so much at stake.

T-89 smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Rowan clenched his teeth and reminded himself that anger was a totally unproductive emotion. “Very well.” He left the intercom on as he contacted the charge nurse. “Subject T-89 is not to be offered any refreshment until he decides to cooperate. Is that clear?”

She responded, “Perfectly, Dr. Rowan. I’ll make a note in his file.”

The subject scoffed. “You really think starving me will have any effect, after all this? Face it, Doc. You’re going to have to offer me some incentive.”

“We’ll see how you feel after fasting for a few days,” Rowan said. “I’m sure you’ll realize you’re being obdurate for no good reason.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“I’m in control now. I have something you want. So you’d better start looking for positive reinforcement, or maybe I’ll never choose to cooperate with your fucked-up agenda. Maybe I want you to stop feeding me. Maybe I intend to starve myself to death because I know it’s the only way I’ll ever leave this place.” T-89 flattened his palm on the mirror, eerily close. It was as if he could see where Rowan was standing. “You can’t afford to lose me, Doc. So far, Miracle Girl is the best thing your lab has produced, and you know how it is with big business.”

Rowan didn’t like the way this test subject was thinking-that he was in control. And yet he was fundamentally correct on several points. This was going to become extremely irritating. But very well, he could prove himself a rational man.

“I take your point. What do you want from me?”

“I want walking-around time. I refuse to spend my life locked in a cell like a primate, regardless of what you’ve done to me. But that’s not all.”

Rowan wished he could simply force compliance via the right combination of drugs, but he’d already discovered that strong sedatives neutralized T-89’s abilities. If he was drugged, he couldn’t participate in the experiment, which rendered him worthless, just another mouth to feed.

“What more do you want?” he asked with exaggerated patience. “A mariachi band?”

T-89 smiled. “Something you’ll hate even more.”

“I have work to do. Make your demands known.”

“All right. I want an hour a day with Miracle Girl.”

Anger filled his brain with blood; Rowan’s hands curled into fists. Refusal trembled on the tip of his tongue. She was his, and he’d never been good at sharing. He liked knowing she never spoke to anyone but him. Sometimes Rowan imagined how he must fill her fantasies. More than once, he’d pictured her in bed, fingers inside her panties while she relived their conversations. He’d studied the video footage a few times before realizing she must confine her self-exploration to the greater privacy of the bathroom. He approved of such modesty, even as a small part of him wished he could watch her pleasure.

He forced himself to be logical. “And if I meet your terms, you’ll cooperate fully in the tests?”

T-89 crossed to the cot in his cell and fell back on it, folding his arms behind him. “You bet. Give me what I want, and I’ll light this place up like the Fourth of July. You can film it, and I’ll smile pretty for the camera.”

“Then I’ll agree provisionally,” Rowan said coldly. “You’ll be sedated before we allow you out of that cell. I can’t have you turning your abilities on my personnel.”

“Are you saying my word’s no good, Doc? I’m crushed.” T-89’s words took on a mocking edge.

Rowan ignored that, but couldn’t help asking, “Why do you want to see her?”

“Word on the ward is: she’s smoking hot. A tight little redhead with a killer ass. I figure she’ll be so grateful to see a new face that she’ll be riding my pole in under a month. What do you think, Doc? Will she put out?”

He fought a wave of fury so primitive it all but blinded him. “If you touch her, I will have you killed. Don’t overestimate your importance. You might be my first success, but I took good notes. I can repeat the procedure. I have plenty of meat in the cells, and every one of them is just like you.”

“Hit a nerve? Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’re the crazy butcher who keeps her in his dungeon. She’s never going to show you her titties and beg you for cock.”

Rowan trembled because the other man’s words summoned such a powerful picture. He had envisioned it so many times-she’d be waiting naked when he slipped into her apartment. She’d beg him for sexual initiation.

His penis stirred, hardening at the mere idea of Gillie’s virgin blood. Could sex with her heal the sick as well? He’d wondered, but he had never brought it up to the board because they would auction her virginity off to the highest bidder, some syphilitic old husk. Rowan would never let anyone else touch her.

“Perhaps not,” he said tightly, “but your life is in my hands. I recommend you show a modicum of self-preservation and refrain from provoking me.”

“Ah.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in T-89’s voice. “So you admit I’m right. Good of you. That’s ammunition.”

Belatedly, Rowan realized he’d shown weakness, not advisable with an enemy who wasn’t exactly human. He couldn’t let the man provoke him further. Rowan released a lever, sending a flood of gas into the cell. The man struggled at first, eyes bulging as he realized he was losing control of his motor functions and his intimidating abilities. Then Rowan tapped the intercom button that connected him to the charge nurse while leaving the one to the cell live. “Nurse, send Silas to discipline subject T-89.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

Though he had work to do, it could keep for a while. He was going to enjoy this.

Gillie froze at the knock on her door. The only person who ever visited her was Dr. Rowan, but she would’ve sworn it was too early for him. The man lived like a vampire, working all night, sleeping all day. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did slash people’s jugulars to maintain his creepy immortality.

With great trepidation, she opened the door-if she didn’t, they’d come in anyway. To her surprise, it was Silas, escorting some man she’d never seen before.

“One hour,” the orderly said, and then he was gone.

Gillie closed the door. Her heart beating too fast, she took in the stranger with absolute befuddlement. He stood just less than six feet tall, and he was pale, like her. Chestnut hair, green eyes. On closer scrutiny, she saw he bore bruises on his arms, and more on his back, most likely, if he’d been disciplined.

That made him a test subject, just like her. God, please don’t let it be some mating agenda. If they expect me to breed with him, I’ll kill myself.

“Do you speak?” he asked at length.

She shook herself out of the near panic. “Of course.” Though it had been a long time since she’d met anyone new, she extended a hand, trying to be polite. “I’m Gillie. Nice to meet you.”

Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes. He had a weathered face, as if he’d once spent a great deal of time outdoors. The sun-kissed hue that had led to the lines had long since faded, however. “You, too, Miss Manners.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she said in a rush. “But… who are you? Why are you here?”

“That’s a deep question for a new acquaintance.”

She felt heat rising in her cheeks. “I didn’t mean you should define the purpose of your existence. I meant-”

“I know what you meant. I’m here because they turned me into a crazy beast, and then they snapped me up on the streets a few years back. Now the doc’s done something to my brain, something that left me going, Holy shit, I wish I were dead, only I’m not, and I wanted to make the best of this fucked up situation.”

Gillie sat down. “I still don’t understand. They never let me see anyone.”

“There’s nobody sane down here for you to talk to, besides the staff.” He reassured her by taking the chair opposite. If he was meant to mate with her and he only had an hour to get the job done, surely he’d be more aggressive. “And that’s debatable.”

A reluctant smile curved her mouth. “Yes. That’s certainly true. So you’re here… for company?”

“Is that okay?” He hesitated. ̈I also demanded a visit to piss off Doc Rowan. He seems to think he holds your title.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She tried to control her revulsion, but he saw it.

Maybe because of the cameras, he didn’t acknowledge the revelation. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Gillie could only think, Holy crap, my first houseguest.

“Of course. I should’ve offered. I can make tea or coffee, if you like. I also have some oatmeal cookies I made this morning.”

“You bake in here?” His astonishment wounded her, as if she’d surrendered everything by wanting to make the best of things.

“Yes, I’m a collaborator,” she said, feeling wretched. “Do you want the cookies or not?”

“Tea and cookies in hell.” He shook his head in wonderment.

“That about sums it up.” Relieved that she wouldn’t have to fight off a determined rapist-a worry each time Rowan came in-Gillie got up to make the refreshments. “You never told me your name.”

Pure hatred flashed in his green eyes. “They call me T-89.”

“Do you remember who you are? Do you have a family?” She put the kettle on, nearly weeping with the pleasure of human contact after so long.

“The T stands for Taye. I’m sure of that. The rest…” He shook his head, gazing at his clasped hands. “Only bits and pieces. I think I might have a family out there, but I’m not positive. I’m pretty sure they’d given up on me long before I was taken.”

“I’m sorry.”

Was that true of her as well? Gillie knew a pang, wondering whether her parents had accepted the tale of her death. Did they have more children thereafter? Did they miss me at all? With the ease of long practice, she banished the darkness. Living in the present kept her sane.

He shrugged. “It’s all scrambled now. Doesn’t matter whether I was a crazy bum, begging for spare change and tin-foil for a hat. I doubt my family would want me back, if these flashes I get are true.”

“Well, Taye, I’m glad to have you here. I didn’t think I’d ever see a friendly face.”

Shadows lurked in his jade eyes. “Nor did I. Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“No, help yourself.”

By the time he’d finished, she’d laid the table with cookies and hot tea. He joined her. Gillie had always thought it funny they gave her two chairs, until the day Dr. Rowan sat down across from her. Since then, she’d lost some of the joy she took in doing small, everyday things for herself.

“This looks fantastic.”

In truth, the cookies were a bit overdone, and she’d gone wrong somewhere else in making them. The raisins had soaked up all the moisture, so instead of being rich and chewy like her mom’s, these turned out dry and crumbly. But perhaps with the tea, he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re being polite.”

He broke a cookie in half and took a big bite. “Not at all. I haven’t had any sweets in a long time. I used to…”

“What?”

“Like marzipan, I think. Or was it peanut brittle?” His eyes went distant, as if all the neurons weren’t firing in sync.

Just how safe was she with him? Gillie eyed him warily. Sure, she knew about the cameras, but this guy could do some damage before help arrived.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I just… can’t remember certain things. If it makes you feel better, one condition of my visits is that I’m never to touch you.”

Because she could envision Rowan laying down such terms, she considered that a mixed blessing. Still, she didn’t want him to feel unwelcome. Anyone was better than the mad scientist.

“It does, thank you.”

“I think I haven’t seen my reflection in a while because when I looked in the mirror earlier, I didn’t recognize my own face.” His conversational tone belied the grief in his gaze. “Does that ever happen to you?”

Tell me I’m not alone, his eyes begged.

Gillie shook her head, wishing she were a better liar. She had no comfort to offer a man who found a stranger in the mirror; she could only change the subject. “Silas said we have an hour?”

Taye nodded. “Today and every day hereafter. I made it a condition of my cooperation.”

“If the question doesn’t strike you as too forward-”

“What can I do?” Wisely, he guessed she wanted to know his ability.

“I’m curious.”

“I’m drugged, so I can’t show you, but… I manipulate energy. I absorb it, displace it, and discharge it. Energy is never created or destroyed, but I can transmute it. They’re interested in finding out what, exactly, that entails and what my limits are.”

“They would be. Sadly, they don’t need me willing,” she said softly. “It just makes life more bearable.”

He cocked his head. “So they can use your gift, even if you don’t want them to?”

While he ate, she explained. She’d never imagined she would have anyone to confide in. Even knowing they were listening to every word, it was still a relief. Sympathy shone in his gaze by the time she finished the story.

“Jesus, that’s…” He curled his hand into a fist, as if that spoke for him better than words. “Well, I can only say-I don’t know how you’ve borne it.”

“I’ve thought of dying,” she whispered. “They think they’ve eliminated everything I could use to harm myself, but I have a few secrets. Sometimes I still think of it.”

Before he could reply, a knock sounded at the door. “Time.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Taye said, eyes on hers. “Take a hot bath and try to relax.”

That seemed like such an odd and pointed instruction that as soon as they left, she went into the bathroom. With something like hope dawning in her heart, Gillie read the note he’d scrawled on a scrap of toilet paper:

We’re getting out of here. Be ready.