“It’s hard not to get beaten down by a hopeless situation.”
“It’s not hopeless. There’ll be situations that can help us get out of this.”
“Like what?” she asked as he pulled her to her feet and led her over to the bed.
Once he was reasonably certain they were in a zone where they couldn’t be overheard he said sotto voce, “Like me kicking their asses the next time they try to come in here. I just have to find my way around that gas.”
“There’s no way to do that.”
“There is. I’ve been thinking about it. If there’s an electronic delivery system I can fuck with it. Remember? Like I said? I just need a way to pry off one of the grates that allow the gas to enter the room.”
“Knives! There’s knives on the table. You can use them.”
“Good thinking. I just wish I could knock out those cameras. Once they see me fucking with their plans they are going to take action.”
“It’ll be a race. How fast you can take off a grate versus how fast they can release that gas and how long you can hold your breath.”
“I can hold my breath a pretty good length of time. Let’s give this a try. You stay on this side of the room.”
“No. I have a better idea. Let me go first.”
“What?” he asked tensely.
“Let me start on the grate while you stay out of gassing range. When they release the gas and knock me out then you take a breath and finish the job. But you’ll have to stay on this side of the room to keep your lungs clear.”
“I don’t like this. I’m stronger than you are. I can easily force the grate with a little leverage. I just need the knife and—”
“Maybe you can and maybe you can’t. We’re only going to get one shot at this. Don’t you think it’s best we work together as a team?”
“Not when you’ll be sitting right on top of the grate getting a face full of knockout gas that can easily depress your autonomic functions if given too high a dose.”
She had thought the same thing only minutes earlier, so she wavered…and he pounced.
“You see? Part of you knows how stupid an idea this is.”
“I want to help!” she said, trying not to come off whiney but not really succeeding.
“You can help. Stay as far from the vent as possible. Hold your breath as long as possible. Reduce the amount of gas you take in as much as you can.”
He looked toward the table a moment and she could see his wheels turning.
“What?”
“Knives,” he murmured. “Why supply us with something that can be used as potential weapons?”
“Because he thinks you’ll be out cold every time he comes in here, so knives don’t matter.”
“But they will. Once we fuck with their gas delivery system, it will force them to come in while we are conscious. If the gas gets to me at the same time that I get that grate off and fry the delivery system, they’ll have the opportunity to come in here and take the knives away. We have to thwart that effort.”
He had been whispering in her ear, just to be safe that none of their plans could be overheard. To anyone watching it would look like he was nuzzling her as they spoke, which in a way he was. She felt his whispery hot breath all around her ear and down the side of her neck. It was all she could do to keep from shivering in delight. It was a strange juxtaposition to her feelings about the topic they were discussing.
“You mean hide the other knife before they can come take it away. But they’ll see us.”
“Not if we disguise our actions as something else,” he said with a broad, mischievous wink. “Now push away from me and act like I’ve pissed you off. Like I’ve done something to offend you. Think about how frustrating you find me if you need motivation. Make your way all the way across the room near the table.”
“This is going to be too obvious,” she fretted.
“Trust me. It won’t be. Their attention is going to be on something else entirely. Leave the sleight of hand to me. You just go with the program.”
“But I don’t know what the program is,” she hissed.
“You will. See that frustration? That’s what’s going to make it more believable.”
She pushed off from him, stumbling a little as she did. She was all jerky limbs and frustration. “You’re an ass!” she said, trying not to feel the words because she knew he wasn’t being one for real. He had a plan. She had to go along with that plan. Whatever it was.
She stormed across the room, reaching the table and turning to face his direction, only to find him hot on her heels. She practically bumped into his chest.
“Aw c’mon. You know you want me.”
She blushed hotly as he grabbed her arms and bent his head to nuzzle her ear beneath her hair. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do! Fight him? Give in to him? She struggled with both. Giving in to him…it was so dangerous. So very dangerous.
His lips grazed her ear.
“Struggle a little,” he whispered.
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.
“Let me go!” she protested.
“Not yet,” he countermanded. “Not until you admit you really want me. A woman doesn’t kiss a man like that if she doesn’t really want him.”
He bit a gentle line down her neck and she felt herself melting. Heat swirled from the place where his hungry mouth nibbled on her. She felt herself weakening. Felt herself falling. She didn’t know what to do.
That was when he suddenly jerked upright and crushed his mouth to hers. He kissed her almost violently; it was so full of hunger and passion. She felt her heart leap and trip into an overdrive beat. Her nipples tightened in anticipation. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him. This was such a dangerous game. But he had a plan and she had to go along with it.
He suddenly jerked her to the left, lifting her off her feet until she felt her bottom on the tabletop, bumping dishes as he shoved the china out of the way. He stepped between her open thighs and with a single hand jerked her forward to the edge of the table until her sex met with his. He was hot and erect, enjoying himself even though it was supposed to be an act. That should have miffed her, but it was far too arousing in other ways to arouse her anger.
She felt his hand land on her abdomen, slowly sliding up until he held her left breast. He pulled the pointed tip between his fingers and tugged, all the while his mouth devoured hers with heat and intensity.
She tried to break away, to gasp for breath, but he only jerked her back to him and feasted on her all over again. He was so hot. So intense. So undeniably attractive and male. She could feel that as his parts rubbed suggestively against hers. She went completely wet and he growled in appreciation as his free hand went to her hip, holding her there, kneading her soft buttock.
Slowly he pushed her over, laying her out until her back hovered inches away from the dinner dishes beneath her. His right hand left her body and pressed to the tabletop for balance. Or so it seemed. He broke away from her the next moment with a gasp for breath, stepping back and jerking her upright in the next moment.
“Don’t ever pretend like you don’t want me again,” he ground out, stepping away from her and marching back across the room.
She could see, hidden from the cameras, that in his hand was the knife. He went directly to the bed and laid down indolently, only a slight movement betraying he was somehow hiding the knife within the mattress. He was so strong it would only take a slight movement. Then he tucked his hands behind his head, crossed his feet at the ankles, and began to whistle as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Chapter 10
Halo watched her slide off the table with lids at half mast, his lashes framing his picture of her. She looked as if someone had hit her with a right cross. He felt bad about that.
Well, no. Not really. He had enjoyed feeling her close to him again. He had enjoyed her heat and her passion. She was quite a good little kisser. Quite convincing.
Although, male instincts knew it had not been an act in any way. She was very attracted to him. He could feel it. He could feel it in the hunger of her kisses and the reactions of her body. She had grown so wet. So slick. So hot.
Thinking about it wasn’t helping the all-star erection he had. Just the thought of grabbing hold of her made him hard nearly the moment he had conceived of his plan. An excuse to get near her, he had thought. And excuse to fondle that gorgeously round body and all those equally gorgeous curves and crevices. He wanted more. He would have taken more under any other circumstances, but he had forced himself to stay on task. As much as he loved drinking her in and being that close to her, he needed to protect her. He needed to keep her safe.
He wondered at the fact that they had given them knives. Sure, they were little plastic ones, but in the right hands they could be an effective weapon. And his hands were the right hands. They had to know that. Or maybe they weren’t as smart as they thought they were. Still, what threat would he be if they could still knock him out.
He had actually grabbed both knives when he’d gotten to the table. It would perhaps gain him more time when it came to prying off that grate. He had eyed it in passing, noting that there were two screws holding it in place. He would need to unscrew those screws first. That was a complication when it came to the speed in which he could do it. What he had to hope for was that they weren’t watching the cameras religiously. It was impossible for someone to watch every single move they made without looking away or growing bored. He had to make them grow as bored of watching them as possible.
“Come over here and get some sleep,” he instructed Felice as she stood there awkwardly, apparently not sure what to do next. She hesitated.
“I promise I’ll behave myself.”
She shook her head. “I’ll just sleep in a recliner,” she said, inching toward one as if she were afraid he was going to pounce on her and drag her into bed with him.
“Suit yourself,” he said with a halfhearted shrug. He closed his eyes as if going to sleep, but he was very aware of all his surroundings, including the way she eventually sat down and kicked up the footrest of the recliner. His supernatural senses were aware of every shaky breath she took. Every shiver. Damn it, he should be close to her, sharing his warmth. However, he had to admit to himself that it would look suspicious if she simply jumped into bed with him as if nothing had happened and the argument had been nothing much to either of them.
At least, he hoped she was just acting for whomever was watching. He could imagine she was stunned—and aroused. He had left her needy and wanting more…a fact that irked a part of him. He wasn’t the type to tease.
He slowed his breathing. Calmed himself. No easy task, but it had to be done. He couldn’t sleep, however. He couldn’t let himself be that vulnerable, even if it was burning energy he couldn’t spare.
So he rested and listened. It was almost meditative—and it was very difficult. Halo was a man of action. He didn’t stay quiet and he didn’t like to be trapped and forced into the will of another. He was naked and exposed—in more ways than one. He could handle the no-clothes aspect of this, even when he found himself aroused and hardened by a certain plump and pretty companion in captivity. Unlike her, he couldn’t care less about his nudity. He wasn’t modest or shy. He was everything the opposite of that. But he was vulnerable in other ways. That gas for one. His increasing exhaustion for another. All of it whirled around in his head and made him angrier and angrier until he had to force himself to calm down and think clearly. He couldn’t give Roth an advantage like that. He couldn’t be hotheaded and rash. That wasn’t going to get him out of this.
So he faked sleep, waiting patiently for the moment when the spectator on the other end of the camera, whoever it was, grew bored and complacent and stopped paying close attention to what was—or rather wasn’t—happening on the screen. After about two hours of perfect inactivity he opened his eyes. He grabbed hold of one of the knives and quickly made his way to the vent that allowed gas to enter the room. It was surprisingly easy work to unscrew the bolts holding the grate in place but just as he got it off an ominous hiss began to come from the apparatus he exposed. He took a breath just before a misting gas erupted from the nozzle, blowing into his face. He closed his hand around the nozzle and concentrated. He sent an electrical impulse along the exposed metal and felt the feedback as it fried any and all electrical release valves. The gas blowing into his face reduced by half and then stopped altogether. He resisted a shout of triumph, knowing the room was still half filled with the gas. He quickly got up and moved to the far side of the room, where the air was bound to be clearer, and took a breath. He held it again, hoping there was enough free air in the room to dilute the concentration of the gas. He went over to Felice and checked on her, taking her pulse. She was also on the far side of the room from the gas, but as a human she might be even more sensitive to it than he was.
He took another breath, this one through his nose. He couldn’t smell the funky chemical smell of the gas and he didn’t feel light-headed or sleepy. After several minutes and several breaths, Halo allowed himself to breathe normally. He smiled in wicked triumph. Now they would have to enter the room while he was conscious and awake. Now they would have to expose themselves to him on an equal playing field. Now the possibility of escape had increased a hundredfold.
After a few more minutes he tried to wake Felice. He wanted to know if she had been affected by the gas. He wanted to make sure she was all right. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her. Go crazy, he supposed. Even the idea of an innocent being killed because of some twisted plan Roth had concocted made him see red. And it mattered that the innocent was Felice. She wasn’t just some nameless, faceless junkie. He knew her. He knew how kind she was and how strong. He knew how courageous she was and how clever. He knew how independent she was and how passionate. He knew all these things about her after only a few hours of exposure to her. He wondered if she knew him half so well.
Probably. It wasn’t as if he was some kind of big mystery. He was pretty easy to figure out and a pretty basic guy—when it came to his needs and personality at least. He was far more complex when it came to the hunt. It was where all of his creative energy was focused. It was where his strengths lay.
He wasn’t successful in waking her and he realized she had been exposed to the gas far more than he had thought. His body had rapidly processed the toxin out because it had not overcome him. But again, that had burned precious energy, and he was starting to feel hungry.
His appetite started as an itch. A desire. It was simple now, but it would grow stronger and more intense as time passed. It would grow until he was mad with craving. Until it would be difficult for him to control himself. It took a lot of discipline to choose to go into torpor rather than give in and take from whatever immediate source was available. He had the necessary discipline. The question remained, however. Did he take from Felice and risk a walk on the poisoned side, or did he allow himself to become so vulnerable that anyone could walk up and kill him, which was exactly what Roth would do once he realized he wasn’t going to get his way. He wasn’t going to beat Halo.
Halo would get the better of him.
It started with destroying the gas functions. But there were no guarantees that would last. It might not take much to replace certain circuit boards. That meant his opportunity, when it came, would be short and hopefully sweet. Hopefully, he would have the chance to beat down these bastards in a hand-to-hand situation—a scenario he knew he had a far better chance of controlling.
But there was a wild card.
Felice.
How did he plan an escape while Felice was vulnerable to attack? Sure, he could throw himself recklessly and without fear into any hand-to-hand situation, but that was if he only had himself to worry about. Now he had to worry about Felice. He had to plan what to do with her to keep her from being a liability.
He gathered her up into his arms
and moved her to the bed. The air was likely clearer in that corner of the room and Halo wouldn’t be satisfied until he could wake her. He didn’t try again immediately, however. He let her sleep. She deserved a few hours of rest from this situation they were in. No need for them both to be exhausted.
Left to his own devices, all he could do was lie there and think. What would he do with her? Send her to the farthest corner of the room no doubt. He would tell her to retreat there the minute someone entered the room. But that would require her to be awake and alert when it happened.
And it would happen. They had to feed her. That meant entering the room and exchanging the dishes.
Or maybe now they would starve her like they were starving him. He hadn’t thought of that. He could hold out a few more days. How long could she hold out?
Actually, if he were being honest with himself, his choice was coming far closer than that, far faster. He would be forced to choose between poisoning himself or going into torpor long before she would starve to death. Besides, there was some food left over. It would be cold and nasty, but it was food all the same. There were some dinner rolls and some potatoes. Some green beans. Nasty but edible.
His one true vulnerability was Felice. They would use her against him. If they entered the room they would go for her before they would go for him. As much as he liked to portray himself as an unfeeling prick, he knew Roth would understand that protecting an innocent would be the topmost thing on his list. It was one of the uppermost tenets of their society. Protect innocent humans from themselves as much as possible. Protect their food sources because they were so few and far between.
He thought of feeding from Felice, and it made him instantly hard. He huffed out a sigh of frustration with himself and his wayward body. He could hardly help it though. The idea of feeding from her and holding her lush body against his as he did so was more than he could bear.
After another hour he tried waking her again. She murmured groggily and tried to shove away the hand smacking her lightly on the face. Then suddenly she opened her eyes and looked at him, confusion and disorientation swimming in her pretty blue eyes. Seductive blue eyes. They were so compelling, so full of warmth and life. He found himself thinking he could stare into them for a very long time, doing nothing else, and still be satisfied.