Chapter Thirty-Seven

The two white-coated men push the table over to where I'm suspended, and effortlessly unhook the chains from the ceiling and then from the bottom of the floor to move me onto the table. All the while, Wilde's watchful eyes scour everywhere they put their hands, snarling when one of their fingers slips underneath the hem of my shirt.

With lightning speed, Wilde catches the man's wrist, and it bends backwards with a sickening snap. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself, do you understand me?"

He whimpers, nodding, cradling his right hand. I note with morbid satisfaction that it doesn't heal quickly, meaning he is most likely human. The other lab coat ignores the commotion and continues fastening the chains to the table, so that I lie supine with arms once again above my head, and my ankles secured on either end.

Wilde's face looms above me, her white blonde hair curtaining either side of her head. "He won't touch you like that again."

I huff out an incredulous laugh. "Spare me the bullshit, Wilde. Don't pretend you give a fuck when you're about to inject me with gods-know-what and cut me open at the same time."

Her steel-gray eyes harden, resembling dark ice chips. "No one is cutting you open." She places both hands on the edge of the table and tucks her chin into her chest, sighing. "I told you, I had no choice."

"We always have a choice."

She shakes her head before directing the lab coat with the two working hands. "Mark, get me the blue vial." Her gaze drops to mine. "Spoken like a na?ve little girl." Wilde drags the table of tools over to her side and lifts a syringe from its surface. "I've been in hiding all my life, Rhi. I'm a walking death sentence. If my family ever found me, they'd kill me on sight." She fills up the syringe with the blue liquid. "The Sons discovered who I am and threatened to expose me to my family, so please believe me: when I say I have no choice, I mean it."

Wilde pierces the side of my neck with the needle, and I cringe at the small burn where the sharp point meets my skin. I brace myself, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. Wilde tilts her head, considering, before shouting, "Red, next."

"You did have a choice," I say softly. "It's the same choice I faced when Leviathan came for me: my life or my friends'. The same choice I faced when I found out Nick's prophecy: my life, or his. And you know what I chose each time?"

I don't have to say anything. The way her fingers clench around the syringe tells me everything.

She knows.

But to drive the point home, I say, "The difference is, you chose yourself."

And then she plunges the syringe into my neck again.

Twenty six.

That's how many times Wilde injects me with every fucking concoction that must exist in this lab. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries dish soap next .

But to my relief, she says, "We're done."

I'm exhausted, and my neck has thankfully gone numb from the amount of times it's been punctured. I can only imagine what it looks like.

Wilde's phone rings from somewhere in her coat pocket, and she picks it up on the first ring.

"Non-reactive," she says to whoever is on the other line. Then, she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Absolutely everything. Her powers are restrained, which means the immunity lies solely within her blood." She winces, then nods. "Fine."

My eyes flutter open and closed as I drift in and out of consciousness, but I catch her nod to one of the lab coats - I'm not sure which one. "Implement Phase 2."

Fuck. I don't like the sound of that.

My eyes completely shut, and someone strokes my hair soothingly. I moan.

"I'm so sorry," Wilde says, quietly. "You're not going to like what happens next." There's a pause and a wistful sigh, and then, "I should have chosen you."

I'm jolted awake, a scream tearing from my lungs at the fiery shocks rippling through my veins. I realize I'm no longer lying on the table, but in my earlier position of being suspended from the ceiling.

"I have some bad news, Rhi." Jesse's voice is the final straw, grating across my brain, and I lean forward as much as I can and vomit all over the floor.

"Ugh, fucking gross." He snaps his fingers. "You, Mike, clean this up."

"It's uh, Mark."

I glance up just in time to see Jesse glower at Mark, who quickly grabs towels and a mop and gets to work.

"As I was saying, I looked over your blood samples, and unfortunately, aside from the fact that your monster ancestor is fucking stamped all over it, there is nothing within your blood I can extract to be useful."

I give him a weak, mollified smile. That's what you get, you fucking prick.

Jesse approaches, careful to avoid the vomit that Mark is currently cleaning. "Don't gloat just yet, because I believe I've discovered the reason why."

I know the reason why. It's my Titan blood that makes me immune, something I don't think Jesse is aware of. He said he's always known what I was, but he called me Scylla, never mentioning the fact that my father is Cronus, King of the Titans, which leads me to believe he's clueless .

A fact I will keep a secret.

"I think," he continues, "what I need isn't your blood, but the blood of your Scylla." His mouth lifts slightly at the corners, as though waiting for me to catch on.

And I have to admit, it does take me a minute. I'm fucking exhausted. "No."

He leans in, raising his brows. "Yes."

I tug on the chains, which only elicits his mouth widening in a disturbing smile. "I'm going to torture you until you lose your fucking mind and let that vicious beast loose."

I snort, because my mind is gone and there's not a fucking snowball's chance in Hell I'm letting him walk away with the last word.

"Good luck trying to wrangle Scylla's six heads." I know I only have four, but I don't mention that.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. I have a weapon at my disposal that not only will subdue any monster, but end its miserable fucking life."

Though my face pales, this is what I need to do. I need to feign fear and play into his demigod ego so that he offers information.

"What do you mean, weapon?" I throw an extra tremble in my voice for good measure.

"I'm a descendant of Zeus, Rhi. The leader of the Sons of Hercules. Did you really think you were that invincible?"

"I think you're bluffing."

His cheeks flame, giving me the reaction I want. "I have Zeus' fucking lightning bolt, you dumb bitch." His voice drops low and menacing, dripping with vitriol. "And when your little Prince comes to save the day, I'm going to spear him with it."

That nearly sends me over the edge. I wrench the chains so hard they unlatch from the ceiling, tearing some of the plaster with it. I launch at Jesse, but he subdues me by placing a hand on my shoulder and again electrocutes me.

I collapse onto all fours, the urge to vomit overwhelming me.

"That's it, Rhi." Jesse crouches beside me, his warm breath in my ear. "Get fucking angry."

I suck in large gulps of air, forcing back both nausea and rage.

"Maybe after I'm done with him, I can finish what I started with you," he taunts. "You were a pretty decent fuck, from what I remember. Then again, there's nothing like tearing into a tight, innocent cunt. Maybe I'll tell your Prince that before I kill him. Paint him the perfect picture of how you bled all over my dick, and how you cried when I first slammed inside you."

My limbs shake. I can feel that wrathful trench widening, the former fissures of heat now wide rifts, steam pouring from them, just waiting to push past the surface to erupt and destroy everything.

The chains loosen around my wrists, not enough for me to fully tap into my power, but enough that I feel my claws edge their way over my nail beds.

Jesse continues to push. "And then I'll pick off your little crew. One by one. I'll torture them slowly. I'll start with the tattooed one. I'll flay them off her skin and-"

A violent swipe of my claws across his cheek shuts him up. Jesse's head whips to the side, the gashes along his cheek deep and vicious. They heal almost immediately, but not before he reaches out and grabs my neck, electrical jolts bombarding my already exhausted body to the point where stars dance across my vision.

Once the electrocution dissipates, I slump face down on the floor, my lungs burning as I struggle to breathe.

"I think she needs some more persuading. Mark. Lloyd. Help me persuade her."

I can't see what's happening. My eyes feel glued shut, and I'm hauled to my feet, my head lolling from side to side. I anticipate the pain of electrocution again, so color me surprised when bony knuckles collide with my jaw, and pain smarts along the bone. My head snaps sideways, and copper bursts across my tongue.

There's little time for me to react before another blow lands on the opposite side of my face, along my left eye socket. The hands holding me drop me to the floor, and I barely put my arms out in time to keep my face from smacking the hard tile.

"Come on, Rhi." Jesse taunts. "Where's that monster?"

"Sir, perhaps the chains are a problem? Do they not suppress her monstrous side?"

I don't know who says it, Mike or Larry, or whoever, but all I know is it wouldn't matter. I'm so close to passing out that chains or no chains, it wouldn't matter.

"It also keeps her from healing, which will happen the minute we take these off."

That's Jesse's voice, one I wish to the stars above I can fucking forget.

"I say she needs a few more lessons, and then we can remove the chains. Perhaps she'll have changed her mind, and once she's healed, she'll cooperate." A hand pushes sweat-matted hair from my forehead, the touch I also unfortunately recognize as Jesse's. "What do you say, Rhi?"

He doesn't give me a chance to respond - not that I would have - before a swift kick is delivered right into my upper abdomen. I wheeze as the bones of my rib cage splinter, and I bite my tongue so hard more blood fills my mouth. It drips past my lips, and I try to spit more of it out so I don't choke. Another hard kick comes toward my face, and I close my remaining eye. White hot pain explodes across my cheek, and my last thought before I'm swallowed by darkness is that I hope I never wake up.