Page 106 of Hunted to Be Mine
“Hardly.” Dresner’s tone didn’t shift. “The conditioning keeps him alive while lighting up every pain receptor in his central nervous system. Elegant.”
Specter dragged at the concrete, fingers scraping, blood smearing. Red leaked from his nose. His eyes rolled white.
Dresner stepped close to me, face inches from mine. “That was a demonstration of operational parameters. Shall we test his limits?” He turned. “Specter. Asset designation JD-24601. Kill protocol authorization: Selina Crawford.”
Specter’s head snapped toward me, horror and refusal at war. “No.” The word broke around blood. “No, I won’t…”
His body didn’t listen. He hauled himself to his knees. Up, unsteady, pulled by invisible lines. He fixed on me, panic raw.
“Run.” He choked on the word. “Selina, run.”
Blackout’s hold made escape pointless. I could only watch Specter fight himself, shaking with the effort. More red tracked from his nose.
“Entertaining,” Dresner said. “The programming is pushing back against the directive. Corruption’s more extensive than I thought.” He glanced at me. “Your influence has damaged my asset beyond repair.” Ice slid into his voice. “We’ll reset him.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, though the answer was already a knot in my throat.
Dresner approached like he had all day, unhurried. Shoes clicked on concrete. Specter’s bloodied face twisted as Dresner crouched just out of reach.
“JD-24601.” Dresner lowered his voice. “It’s been a while.”
Specter tried to lunge. Nothing. His split lip dripped.
“I won’t do anything for you.” His voice shredded. “I’d rather die.”
“A predictable answer.” Dresner studied him with the interest of a man peering into a jar.
“Leave him alone!” I fought Blackout’s hand.
Dresner ignored me. He leaned in and whispered near Specter’s ear, too low to catch.
Specter went rigid. Shock or pain froze him. Every muscle locked. Then he dropped like cut wire.
Silence. No movement. No breath.
“No!” The scream ripped out of me. I tore free of Blackout’s grip and hit the concrete at Specter’s side.
“What did you do to him?” My fingers pressed to his neck, searching fast. Cold skin.
Nothing. Then there it was—a faint flutter. A beat.
Air returned as his chest lifted, shallow. Alive.
“Specter.” I held his face. “Can you hear me?”
His eyelids trembled and opened. Gray eyes, once steel, stared past me to the ceiling. Completely Blank.
“Specter?” I tried again. “Wolfe?”
No change. No recognition. No warmth. The man who’d protected me, who’d reached for me in sleep, who’d chosen children in Prague—gone, or buried where I couldn’t reach.
I brushed my thumb over his cheekbone, the same line I’d traced days ago in a hotel room. No flinch. Nothing.
“Stand up,” Dresner said.
Specter rose at once. He didn’t look at me. He waited, blood drying on his skin.
Dresner adjusted his cufflinks, admiring the shine more than the man he’d gutted. “Our Reset Protocol. It’s extreme, still experimental, but effective. It overrides everything, even corrupted sections.”
