Phoenix Reborn (Alpha Pack, #7.5)(33)

“Would poachers do that?”

“It was the best he could do in a pinch,” Nick said wryly. “Sheriff Deveraux is here, too. We’re letting them take over the scene.”

Sheriff Jesse Deveraux was a big, mean-tempered *. And a good ally to the Pack. He was one of the few humans outside the compound to know about the paranormal world and the Alpha Pack’s role in it. Grumpy or not, he was also an honest man, and a good guy to have on your side.

“So, basically, we were never here,” Micah said.

“You got it.” The commander eyed him, then glanced at Zan. A look passed between him and the Healer before he addressed Micah again. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t sure that was totally true, but that’s what he was going with. Clearly neither of the men was convinced.

Nick patted his shoulder. “You’ll do as Zan says. Like I told you, a demon’s venom is nothing to f*ck with. Zan healed the worst of the wound, but you’re going to feel like shit for a couple of days. Stay put while I send somebody for a stretcher.”

Micah opened his mouth to protest, but a glare from the boss cut it short. “Fine.”

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and drifted, ignoring the activity around him. Jeez, he was tired. Someone covered him with a blanket. Rowan stroked his hair and whispered, “I love you, you jerk,” which made him smile as he murmured the sentiment to his sister in return.

A few minutes later, he heard Nick, Zan, and Rowan talking some distance away and realized they were discussing him. He probably should’ve alerted them to the fact that he was awake.

Nah, screw that. He wanted to know what they were so uptight about that they weren’t saying to his face.

“What is it?” Rowan asked, voice quiet.

Zan answered. “I’m concerned about some anomalies I detected while I was healing your brother.”

“Anomalies? What do you mean? Like tumors or something?” Alarm tinged her questions.

“Not like a disease, but more of a sense that something isn’t right inside his body. The healing was more difficult than it should’ve been and—”

“But Nick said that demon venom is deadly, so of course something wasn’t right. Besides, it wasn’t so long ago that your healing abilities weren’t up to speed. Maybe you’re still having some trouble.”

Zan didn’t seem to take offense to that suggestion, but he was insistent. “I assure you, my healing is right on target again. The cells in Micah’s body weren’t knitting as quickly as they should have been, even after a demon attack. They needed a lot of coaxing to re-form, more than usual for one of us. I just think it bears watching, that’s all.”

“All right.” She sighed, her tension palpable. “Thanks, my friend. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me. I want to see him well as much as anyone.”

Humiliation crept through Micah. He loved them for caring, but hated being a burden. Hated lying flat on his back when he was supposed to be stronger than his problems. A protector. But at the moment, it didn’t matter that he loathed his situation, because his body was doing its job. Shutting down, forcing him to rest whether he wanted to or not.

Exhaustion claimed him. And in seeped the nightmares.

“Bring him this way.”

Micah stumbled along the dim corridor, held between the two big guards. Fear clogged this throat. He knew where they were going. What they were going to do to him this time?

He’d resisted so far. Each time, the doctor upped the stakes. Pushed his mind and body further. Withheld food and water. Tortured him nearly beyond endurance, What more could they do to him? Nothing but kill him. That would be a blessed relief.

In the dark chamber, there were two shifters waiting. Unkempt hair hung over their round, frightened eyes, and their bodies were unwashed. One was chained on a concrete slab over a drain. The other, bolted to the stone wall, faced his companion, spread-eagle.

This was a new game their captors were playing. A chill of trepidation raced along his spine as he watched Dr.Bowman stride forward, a small smile on his face. “Ah, Micah. Welcome. Let me introduce you to Parker and Tyler. Parker is there,” Dr. Bowman said, pointing to the shifter positioned over the drain.

Dread grew in Micah’s chest, settling like a lead weight.

Whatever game Bowman was playing, it didn’t bode well for any of them. Especially when the doc and his goons had always referred to their captives by number—until now. He had a terrible suspicion that Bowman had moved on to the next stage of his plan to turn him into a killing machine, someone who wouldn’t let personal details like names interfere with his objective.

He had no idea at the time how right he was.

“Micah,” Bowman went on pleasantly, “it’s time for you to earn your keep. Your strength will make you one of my top enforcers. You’re going to teach Parker his place in the hierarchy among shifters.”

“Teach him, how?” Micah asked cautiously.

“Starting with this.”

With a flick of Dr. Bowman’s hand, a guard stepped forward, holding a bullwhip. The guard presented it to Micah, who stood staring at it as though it was a venomous snake.

“You . . . you want me to whip him with that?”

“Yes, and you will.”