Conspiracy Game (GhostWalkers, #4)(105)

Good thinking, but a little too late. I’m really afraid he’s going to try to hurt the babies. I don’t know what his deal is, but he seems to think I’ve betrayed him in some way. I’ve got the knife, but I don’t know if I can take him.

Has he seen your weapon? Does he know you have it?

No.

Keep it as a last resort. And, baby, keep your mind open to mine. I might be able to shield you from emotions even from this distance. And I’ll be able to find you if he takes you before I can get there.

“I’m getting really fed up with you, Briony,” Luther said, bending down to stare into her eyes. He wanted her to be afraid of him; she could see it on his face. “You lied about Jack being the father.”

Briony shrank back farther into the shadows, felt the pack behind her, and found the bloody knife still lying on top of it. She leaned against the pack, the knife blade concealed by her body. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so confused. Nothing makes sense anymore.” She kept her tone low, submissive even.

It was the last thing he expected her to say, and he stopped in his tracks, suspicion on his face. Deliberately Briony lifted a shaking hand and wiped at the sweat from her face, smearing blood on her forehead, looking as fragile as possible.

“You found the tracking disc.” His entire demeanor changed. He even sounded proud of her. “I knew you would—and you cut it out of your body. You’re just like… ” Luther broke off abruptly, crouching beside her, removing a canteen. “Here, take a drink. It’s only water. Let me take a look at that.”

“Like my sister?” Briony took the canteen from him and drank, her gaze never leaving his, watching his reaction.

“I knew you’d figure it out. I chose you because you’re tough as nails and our kids are going to be incredible.” His fingers brushed her hip as he examined her handiwork.

Briony bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to stay still and not jerk away from his touch. “Where is she?”

“You’ll see her soon enough. She’s not in very good shape at the moment. Brett has to discipline her often. She’s highly combative.”

“Who is Brett? And why is she combative?”

“She doesn’t want to cooperate with him.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to have that kind of trouble with you.”

“My sister is with someone named Brett? And he disciplines her? See why I’m so confused? I thought Whitney wanted certain pairs to have children together and he made certain they were attracted physically.” She took another drink of water, trying to slow down the inevitable—stall for time.

Luther pulled out his own medical kit and wiped the area around her hip with more antiseptic before applying a topical antibiotic. “We realized it isn’t necessary for the woman to be attracted to the man—only that the man wants her.”

Briony frowned. “That’s ridiculous. Why would she ever agree to have someone’s baby if she isn’t attracted?”

“She doesn’t have to agree. You don’t have to agree. We can force compliance. It isn’t easy if the woman is a fighter—but on the other hand, it’s a good thing, and we all recognize that. If the woman is willing to fight, and she’s tough enough to cut a disc out of her body, she’s definitely someone we want as the mother of our children.” He put gauze over the wound and taped it in place. “That should hold until we get you back to the lab.”

Briony bit back her opinion that he was crazy. “Will I be able to see my sister?”

“If you two want to see each other, you’ll have to do whatever is necessary.”

“You mean have sex with someone we don’t want to be with? Why doesn’t Whitney use in vitro rather than force a woman to be intimate with someone she’s doesn’t want?”

“Because when we have the soldiers we want, no one can say they were genetically engineered. They’ll be human and beyond any outcry or protest.”

“It’s rape,” Briony pointed out.

“Only if you make it rape,” Luther argued, his fingers settling around her wrist to pull her to her feet. “The woman has a choice. We always give her a choice. The easy way or the hard way. Don’t be like your sister.”

The fanaticism on his face sickened her. He believed every word he said. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with what he was proposing—forcing her to have sexual relations in order to produce a child of superhuman strength and abilities. It made no sense that they wouldn’t use in vitro to produce a child—there had to be other reasons.

She staggered against him as he pulled her from the tunnel into the night. That quick he was on her, whirling her around, slamming her up against the side of the entrance, pressing tight with one hand while he clamped down on her wrist with the other, exposing the knife. He pried it out of her fingers and sent the blade skittering along the ground.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” He slapped her face, hard enough to rock her, following it up by pushing her back against the wall again. “I’m already angry with you, so don’t piss me off.”

“Why?” The slap brought involuntary tears to her eyes. “What did I do besides try to get away? You would have tried too.” She tried to think, to keep from panicking. Jack was on the way. Just stall. There would be a moment, one moment when Luther wasn’t paying close attention, and she’d find a way to get away—or kill him.