Page 8 of Act of Command

Turning, she surveyed what had become her reality—though just how many days, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t very big. There were no windows to help mark the passage of time or to help her figure out where, exactly, she was being held. Screaming for help had done her no good. No one had answered. It had only left her voice hoarse with no fresh water to quench her thirst or ease the burn.

She pushed her glasses up more, thankful to have them again. They’d appeared next to the small bed in the cell when she’d woken earlier. Before that, she’d spent all her time trying to focus on who and what was happening. At least with the glasses she could see. Not that there was anything hopeful to look at.

With a groan of frustration, she sank to the floor, its texture rough and unforgiving, her back against the metal wall, her gaze locked on the door. The only contact she’d had with anyone lately had been by way of the small opening in the door through which someone had pushed something that was to pass as food and drink. She thumped her head against the wall and was surprised when a follow-up thump came from the other side of the wall. She twisted and tapped the wall again, crawling towards the small return air vent near the bottom of the wall. “Hello?”

A deep, low growl was the only response she got. It sounded as if someone had a caged tiger in the room next to her. She froze, fearful whatever it was would somehow magikally appear in with her. Stranger things had happened in her life.

There was a scuffle and then the sounds of a commotion coming from the other side of the wall. Shouts followed as well as threats to tranquilize the occupant should he not pull himself together. Mae swallowed hard. She’d been shot up with something that made her sleep for long periods more than once since her arrival. She didn’t wish that upon anyone.

The urge to sing nearly did her in. She knew better than to dare and she’d been sure to avoid speaking when the guards were around as often nerves left her talking in more of a song anyways. She didn’t want crazy and out of control on top of scary. Yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself as she pressed her hand to the return air vent. She began to hum softly, hoping to help calm the person in the cell next to her. If it backfired, they’d be even more agitated. The only saving grace was that they weren’t in the same cell. A few minutes had passed before a large, male hand appeared against the other side of the vent, startling her. She stopped humming and jerked in place.

“No,” said a deep voice. “Don’t stop. It helps.”

She kept going for a while more, sensing him calming. When she drew to a stop, she leaned against the wall. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, keeping her hand in place.

“Better now,” he replied, his hand still there. “What did you do?”

A shaky laugh escaped her. “I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Oh, you’d be shocked at what I’m willing to believe.”

The walls of the cells were thick and the vent was small. She couldn’t have fit through it if she wanted, not that she wanted to, considering how scary the man had sounded only moments before.

“Got a name?” he asked, the hard edge leaving his voice.

“Mae. And you?”

“Brad.”

They didn’t talk for a spell, but both left their hands against the vents. After a while there was a loud noise, and she eased to her feet. The metal in the wall between her holding room and Brad’s drew back in the center, revealing a large, glass window. She found a man standing there in a thin pair of what looked to be hospital-issue bottoms, the kind a doctor or nurse would wear. His dark hair was just past his shoulders and looked unkempt. He had a face full of hair and looked like a wild man. He was big, yet it was clear to see he was malnourished.

His dark gaze locked on her and he glanced around the room wildly. “What is it this time? I’m not going to hurt her. You can’t make me.”

Mae squeaked as she realized he must be Brad. She got the sense he wasn’t speaking to her.

There was a clicking noise and then a voice came from above, leaving Mae turning in a circle trying to figure out where the intercom system was. “We thought you might like a look at your new breeding partner.”

Mae cupped her mouth.His new what?

Brad growled, and she watched as his dark eyes went from nearly black to ice blue. “No. I haven’t bred any of the women you’ve put me in with before. I won’t with this one either.”

“You will,” said the voice from above, sending chills down Mae’s spine. “Soon neither of you will be able to resist the drugs we’ve been administering to you both.”

Brad snarled. “I’ve resisted them just fine all this time, dickwad. I’m not hurting the girl. Period.”

“You’ll fuck her, or you’ll eat her,” said the man over the sound system. “Either will amuse me. Agree or I’ll hold your food and force a change. Will your shifter side be so willing to forego fresh meat?”

Brad’s gaze whipped to her, and he took a step back from the window.

Shifter?

She didn’t want to guess what kind. Unless he shifted into a hamster, she knew it wouldn’t end in her favor. Tears she’d done her best to hold back burst free from her. Brad moved to the window, placing his hand upon it. Mae went to the glass and put her palm to it, feeling a strange bond to him, though she couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was because he was the first person other than guards she’d seen since being grabbed. Whatever the reason, she felt a connection to him.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said loud enough for her to hear through the shared vent between their rooms.

The slot on the cell door opened and a tray of food appeared through it as had been the case multiple times before. She was hungry and thirsty, but each time she ate and drank anything given to her, she felt ill and tired. She saw through the thick glass that a tray appeared in Brad’s cell as well.

He glanced at it and then shook his head, his gaze landing on her. Was he trying to tell her not to eat from it?

---