Chapter 76

ROSALIND

With a yawn, I step out of the elevator and into the mall. At this time of the morning, most of the stores are closed and there's no sign of shoppers, but I spot the occasional cleaner.

I stayed up the entire night, working with Christian on the amount of mercury nitrovolucite we're going to need to reach the deepest levels of the Moirai. Large-scale production of chemicals is far trickier than the experiments we conducted at the academy.

Industrial manufacturing introduces a whole new set of variables I hadn't contemplated, and there's no room for error when ingredients are volatile and rare. I'm just so glad I had Christian's expertise.

As I head toward the deserted food court, a door opens and the red-haired woman from yesterday steps out of the vegan café holding an A-frame board advertising the day's specials.

Our eyes meet, and she raises a hand to wave. "Wheatgrass shots again?"

Actually, I was thinking of strong coffee, but wheatgrass is exactly what I need to boost my flagging energy levels. "Make it two with a coconut cappuccino."

She gives me a thumbs up and disappears back into her store just as my phone vibrates. Only two people have this number, but Miranda prefers to text than call.

I accept the call. "Hey."

"Good morning, pet," Cesare drawls, his voice a deep rumble. "I'm pulling into the parking lot."

"Meet me at the café."

He makes a disgruntled sound. "See you there."

I snicker at the thought of him eating another vegan meal. I'll eat meat on missions or if I'm sure it's of the best quality, but my body prefers plant-based substitutes. Besides, after days of not eating, I'm in desperate need of nutrition.

Slipping the phone back into the pocket of my cargo pants, I open the café's door and step inside. My nostrils fill with the mingled scents of baked goods and freshly ground coffee, and I make my way to the counter, where a large cup of coffee awaits.

As the redhead pours wheatgrass into shot glasses, I take a sip of my cappuccino. It's rich and velvety, thanks to the coconut milk, with a hint of caramel. I'm about to ask about the blend she used when I feel the prick of a needle.

On instinct, I drop my coffee and pull out the tiny dart. The ceramic cup smashes on the floor, splashing my ankles with hot coffee. Whirling around, I lock gazes with a large figure at the door, holding a compact sedation device.

"Dr. Daniel?"

It's the Moirai's Chief Medical Officer. He's sporting a new goatee and a deep tan from his recent vacation, but I would recognize that square jaw and gray buzz cut anywhere.

The older man flashes me a smirk.

I reach for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but my arms drop to my sides, and I collapse to my knees.

The woman behind the counter gasps. "Are you alright?"

Dr. Daniel rushes to my side and grabs my arm. "It's alright," he says, his voice exuding authority. "I'm a doctor."

My mouth opens in a scream, but the drug has already taken effect. The room spins and distorts with the colors of the cafe warping into a kaleidoscope of bizarre shapes.

"Should I call 911?" the woman asks, and she sounds so far away.

"No need." The doctor picks me up and scoops me into his arms. "I'll take the young lady to my car and administer first aid."

"B-But can't you do it here?" she asks.

My heart thunders, a booming echo between my ears, drowning out the doctor's reply. I feel him moving at a steady pace, then the movement of his arm as he opens a door, and steps out into a world that has lost all familiarity.

The shopping mall has transformed into a surreal landscape of squares that bend back and forth like palm trees in sync with my quickening pulse.

My eyes roll back as I struggle to focus on the immediate threat. I've been captured by the Moirai. More specifically, by its Chief Medical Officer, who is technically support staff.

But why?

As far as everyone knows, I'm a hostage, like all the others who infiltrated Roman's party. The only person connected to the firm who knows I'm cooperating with the Montesano brothers is Britt, and she's already left the country.

Dr. Daniel breaks into a run that makes my stomach lurch. His arms tighten around my body as he weaves through the disturbing landscape and down what feels like a stairwell.

Nausea grips me by the throat, making me gag. I flap like a rag doll in his arms, my limbs loose and unresponsive. He's combined a muscle relaxant with a hallucinogen to keep me helpless. But for what?

"None of that," he says, his tone admonishing. "Bear with me until we reach the ambulance, and I'll give you an antidote."

Out of spite, I retch against his shirt. The doctor grunts his displeasure but doesn't break stride and continues descending to what looks like an abyss.

Another door opens, followed by another, and he flings me on to a hard surface. My arms splay outward, only to be shoved back to my side by the rise of cold metal railings.

I glance around, unable to make sense of my surroundings. It's a confined space with walls that curl in to form the ceiling of a cocoon. The harsh, sterile scent of hospital-grade disinfectant burns my nostrils as I force in measured breaths, fighting the urge to panic.

The beeps of machinery remind me so much of the room Cesare held me captive, but that's impossible. We must be in some kind of vehicle.

"Do you know how elated I was to see you leave the Montesano stronghold?" He snaps a belt around my chest. "When you didn't return straight to HQ, I became concerned."

Panic flares in my chest, and my breath quickens. How would he know my movements?

He fastens another restraint around my waist. "The only reason I didn't report your whereabouts was because of our agreement."

My mind goes blank, and I scramble to understand what he means. I know better than to bargain with my superiors in the Moirai. They're all liars…

"Aah," he says, his voice lifting with amusement. "Now, do you remember offering me your submission in exchange for signing your medical release?"

Disgust rolls in my gut as I recall my desperation to leave the Moirai. Cesare had taken Miranda and made me think he would tear her head open with a reverse bear trap.

The doctor's hot fingers trace the contours of my face, infusing my flesh with ripples of revulsion. I would squirm under his touch, but the drugs in my system make it impossible to move.

Another needle pierces my skin, and cold liquid flows into my veins like ice. It's a terrifying contrast to the feverish heat of the digits sliding down my neck.

If that's an antidote, it's not working because I'm still hallucinating. My limbs jerk, making me realize he's only reversed the muscle relaxant.

"Good girl," he croons, his fingers skimming my collarbones before tracing the hollow of my throat. "We're going to get along just fine with the experiments."

I blink once, twice, three times to clear my vision, but it's still a twisting vortex of metal. His face morphs into view with blank features and a grin of piano keys that extend toward his ears.

I can't do this anymore.

I can't endure another moment of torture.

"You spent the night beneath the shopping mall. What was that about?"

"Dr. Daniel?" I rasp. "I couldn't go back to HQ directly. I was being followed?—"

He slaps my face so hard my head jerks to the side. "You weren't," he says, all traces of levity gone. "The tracker showed you moving to the airport, where you met another operative before disappearing out of range."

My throat tightens. Whatever device he put in my body didn't track my movements to Helsing Island.

"When you returned to spend the night in the Montesano mansion, while your fellow operatives were still underneath it, so I could only assume you'd struck a deal."

"I was stalling for time. They wanted me to show them the location of the headquarters."

"So you diverted them with disinformation?" he asks.

"It's standard procedure," I reply. "I took him to a warehouse on McCutts Island and said our facility was underground."

He injects something else into my vein that infuses me with searing heat. A rush of nausea clogs my throat as he withdraws the needle.

"Nice try. It's too bad I don't give a damn. By the time I've finished experimenting on you, there'll be nothing left of you to return to HQ."

A sharp breath whistles through my teeth as the word returns to focus. I'm strapped to a gurney in the back of a van with blacked-out windows. Dr. Daniel stands over me, slicing open my shirt with a pair of shears.

I struggle within my restraints. The muscles of my arms straining against the tight bands. He cuts through the center of my sports bra, between the cups, and shoves the fabric aside. Cool air swirls over my breasts, making my nipples tighten.

He chuckles. "Gunther warned me that you were a sexy little thing."

"I'll kill you both."

"How are you going to do that when I plan on preserving your body parts for science?"

The doctor leans in, his lips dangerously close to mine. His warm breath fans against my skin, carrying the scent of acetone.

Cold panic surges through my veins with a burst of adrenaline. I snap my head forward and slam my forehead into his nose with a satisfying crunch.

Blood spurts from his broken nose. He stumbles back with a scream, knocking into another gurney. I've bought myself a little time, but not nearly enough.

As he rights himself, I get a view of an unmoving figure lying on the gurney with their intestines spilling out onto a sterile sheet.

Terror shoots down my spine like a bolt of lightning. My gaze snaps to the victim's pale face.

It's Britt.

Dr. Daniel killed my best friend.

Now, he's advancing toward me, his features twisting into a murderous scowl.