Darker (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #6)(23)

I was fast learning that the FPA weren’t the model citizens they painted themselves to be. The more I saw of them, the more I believed I’d gotten the better deal by ending up with the monsters.

“You just made things very easy for me,” the agent sneered. “No need to waste time with transients when I can go to the source.”

“Come on, then.”

He approached me as one might advance on a snarling dog, cautious but ready. I was aware of the scalpel in his hand and the Taser on his hip. I’d have to make sure he never got a chance to use it. With great effort, I forced the wolf back down. If I injured this prick with fangs or claws, he would turn. No way was that happening.

“You were pretty stupid to sneak down here. There’s no Briggs or Juliet to save your ass. They never come down to the basement. Then they’d have to get their hands dirty.”

“Just keep talking.”

I was ready when he tackled me. It didn’t stop the cold hard floor from knocking the breath from me as my back took the brunt of the fall. Bringing my feet up, I used his weight and momentum to throw him over my head. He crashed against a chair that turned over with a loud crash of metal.

On my feet first, I jumped on Agent Asshole, pinning him to the floor. He fought to dislodge me, but I held tight. The strength of a werewolf far outweighed that of a single man. I landed a few punches before he brought his cast-bound arm up to block me. Just a month ago Kale had broken the man’s arm, and I was more than happy to re-break it for him.

His bitter coffee breath puffed into my face as he struggled to overpower me. Instinct commanded that I tear his throat out. I ached for the hot splash of blood on my tongue. I hadn’t come with the intent to kill anyone, but resistance was fast growing futile.

I wrapped my hands around the agent’s throat and squeezed until his face turned a horrid shade of purple. A noise behind me had me whirling to blast the other agent before he could use the Taser in his grip. Unfortunately, that allowed the doctor to approach from the other side. The telltale click of a hammer being cocked held me frozen.

“Stand up. Slowly.” He pressed the cold gun barrel against my temple.

I did what he said, sure I could blast him before he could pull the trigger but unwilling to take the risk that I was wrong. Caution had me doing what he said though I wasn’t as afraid as I was mildly amused. Playing along was best for now.

Agent Asshole wielded his Taser like a man on a mission. He hit me with it before I could brace. The shock of electricity slammed through me like a sledgehammer, dropping me like a sack of meat. My limbs seized, and I twitched on the floor like a drunk on Cops. Fabulous.

“You twisted bitch,” the agent spat. He rubbed his neck, which was red and welted in the shape of my fingers. “You want to see the basement? Oh, I’m gonna show you the basement. Get up.”

I gasped, struggling for each painful breath. My entire body shook as I tried to get up. I was unsteady on my feet, my limbs numb. With a gun in my face and a Taser-wielding ass**le behind me, I suddenly wasn’t feeling so confident anymore.

“Take a good look around,” Agent Asshole said. “Because you’re never getting out of here.”

Recovered from my attack, the other, quieter agent stepped up, yanked my arms behind my back and slapped cuffs on me. I was familiar with these cuffs. They had the ability to reflect my power back at me with a negative charge, rendering my power useless.

The agents shoved me along through the door. The doctor remained to clean up. Both agents flanked me, hovering dangerously close.

“Got nothin’ to say?” The loud jerk poked me in the ribs with the gun he’d retrieved. “That’s fine. You’ll be screaming in no time.”

Wherever Jez and Willow were, I hoped they were far from here.

As we walked down the corridor, we reached a row of wall sconces that cast the hall in a dim light. The further we got from the basement entrance, the brighter the light became. Harsh fluorescent bulbs flooded an adjacent hall lined with solitary prison-style doors. This was just getting better and better. I went along willingly as they steered me down that hall. I didn’t have much of a choice. Agent Asshole shoved me against the first door we encountered.

“Look.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. Curiosity drew my attention to the small pane of glass in the center of the heavy iron door.

Inside was a man sprawled on a double bed. The mattress was fluffy, the blankets thick but aged. The concrete walls were decorated with drawings depicting buildings, scenery and an array of people. The man scribbled furiously in a notepad, bringing another image to life by the light that a reading lamp provided him.

“He’s precognitive.” Agent A informed me. “We promise to take care of his family. In exchange, he shows us likely outcomes of events and decisions.”

“Looks like he’s lost his mind,” I muttered. The poor bugger was oblivious to anything but the image he was creating. “So what you’re saying is he’s a prisoner. Forced to be a tool for the government until it drives him mad. I wish I could say I was surprised.”

Agent A tugged his tie loose, careful not to take an eye from me. “Hey, his daughter can afford to go to Harvard now.”

A cold, sick feeling spread through me. The FPA was no better than Shya. Their shady deals worked out only to their benefit no matter what they bartered away. Sickening.