Avenging Angel (The Fallen #4)(103)

High cheeks. Square jaw. Lips that were hard, a little thin, but still sexy. Sexy, though she could have sworn that mouth held a cruel curve.

Her heartbeat began to pound faster because Thirteen’s eyes . . . they were sweeping over her body. A slow, deliberate glance. “Can he—can he see through the mirror?” His gaze felt like a hot touch on her skin.

“Of course not,” was Dr. Wyatt’s instant response. The doc sounded annoyed with her.

Her shoulders relaxed.

Subject Thirteen smiled.

Damn. Her shoulders tensed right back up again.

Wyatt checked his notes and then told her, “Go check his vitals before we begin the procedure for today.”

Right. Vitals check. Her job. Eve nodded. She’d done two years of med school before realizing the gig wasn’t for her, so she could pass muster with these guys, no problem. Only part of her resume was faked.

The good part.

Eve walked slowly toward the metal door that was the only entrance and exit to Thirteen’s holding room. A guard opened the door for her. An armed guard. Which brought up the next question. Why did volunteers have to be guarded?

Oh, jeez, but this place was creeping her out. Volunteers, my ass.

Sure, she’d seen a couple of other subjects during her time at the Genesis facility. Not many, though. Her clearance wasn’t high enough to get her past level one. Or it hadn’t been . . . until today.

Until she’d been told that Dr. Wyatt needed her services for his latest experiment. Dr. Richard Wyatt was Genesis. A former kid genius, the guy had a couple of fists full of degrees, and, currently, Wyatt was the leading expert in the field of paranormal genetics.

He was also a hard-ass who gave her the creeps when his cold green eyes locked on her. Sure, maybe he was a fairly attractive guy, but something about him made her blood ice.

The guard waved his hand, indicating that it was clear for Eve to proceed. When she walked into Thirteen’s holding room, Eve saw the slight flare of the man’s nostrils. Then his head turned toward her, slowly, the move almost like a snake’s as he sized her up.

He didn’t speak, but his powerful hands clenched.

Eve opened her small, black bag. “Hello.” Her voice came out too high-pitched. She drew in a steadying breath. The guy was chained. It wasn’t like anything could happen to her right then. She needed to get a grip and do her job. “I’m just here to run a few quick checks on you.” No machines were hooked up to him. No monitors. Wyatt wanted these checks done the old-fashioned way—hell if she knew why. Eve pulled out her stethoscope and stopped just a foot away from Thirteen. “I-I’ll need to listen to your heartbeat.”

Still nothing. Okay. Eve swallowed and offered a weak smile. Obviously, she wasn’t dealing with a chatty fellow.

Eve slid closer to him. Her gaze darted to the chains. They held his arms trapped at his sides. Even if he’d wanted to grab her—don’t grab me, don’t!—he couldn’t move.

What if Wyatt was setting her up? The guy was chained and that had to mean he was dangerous, right? Those were some seriously thick chains. They looked like something right out of a medieval torture chamber.

“I won’t hurt you.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and what a dark, rumbling voice it was. If the big, bad wolf from that old fairy tale had been able to talk, Eve bet the beast would have sounded just like Subject Thirteen.

She exhaled and hoped she didn’t look rattled. “I didn’t think you would.”

His lips twisted in the faintest of smiles that called her a liar.

Eve put the stethoscope over his heart. She adjusted the equipment, listened, and glanced up at him in surprise. “Is your heartbeat always this fast?” Grabbing his chart, she scanned through the notes. No, fast, but not this fast. Right then, his heart was galloping like a racehorse.

Eve put her hand against his forehead and hissed out a breath. The guy was hot. Not warm, not feverish, hot.

And she was now so close to him that her breasts brushed his arm.

Subject Thirteen’s heartbeat grew even faster.

Oh . . . just . . . oh. Hell. She hurried back a bit.

“I need to draw a sample of your blood.” She also wanted to take his temperature because the guy had to be scorching. Just what was he? Not a vampire, those guys could never heat up this much. A shifter? Maybe. She’d seen one of those subjects on her first day. But the shifter had been in a cozy dorm-type room.

He hadn’t been shackled.

Eve put up the stethoscope and reached for a needle. She eased closer to Thirteen once more and rose onto her toes. The guy was big, at least six three, maybe six four, so she couldn’t quite reach his ear as she whispered, “Are you here willingly?”

Eve began to draw his blood. Thirteen didn’t even flinch as the needle slid into his arm.

But he did give a small, negative shake of his head.

Shit. She eased back down and tried to figure out just how she could help him.

“I’m Eve.” She licked her lips. His gaze followed the movement. The darkness in his stare seemed to heat. Everything about the guy was hot. “I-I can help you.”

He laughed then, and the sound chilled her. “No,” he said in that deep rumble of a voice, “you can’t.”

Eve realized she was standing between his legs. His unsecured legs. His thighs brushed against hers, and Eve flinched.