Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(20)

All that mattered was she was his, finally. He should be able to root around in her mind and figure out how to free her of those visions. Once he’d disconnected her from the clone, it should be a simple matter to steal her memories of him as well. Meanwhile, the Delaney Randall who’d turned him inside out was gone. For the moment.

For him.

Ridiculous to feel regret at the thought.

No, this was the way it had to be. He’d keep her calm and semicomatose until one of them got another vision, then he’d take it from there.

But as he stroked her finely shaped brow with his thumb, he couldn’t help the feeling of inexplicable loss. He was going to miss her fire and strength, her cunning and intelligence, and even the shadows in her eyes that spoke of loss and called to something deep inside him.

She would still be pretty to look at, but it was the fire that burned within her that made her truly beautiful. A fire gone cold, until he released her mind again. He was sorry for that. But there was neither reason nor time to delay the inevitable. With a sigh, he lifted a lock of her hair, the soft, dark wave sliding between his fingers.

“Wake up, Delaney.”

Instantly, her dark lashes swept up, revealing eyes filled with confusion.

“You don’t remember anything that happened after the cat ran into your apartment last night,” he said softly.

Her head turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “O-kay.”

His hand froze on her hair as he stared at her, blinking. Shit. Shit. He hadn’t gotten control of her mind at all. Yet he had connected with it. Staring into her eyes he could almost see the gossamer thread, running between them, fanning the warmth in his head.

Outrage barreled through him. Every time he tried to control her, something else went wrong. He flung himself off the bed and strode to the wall, barely keeping himself from slamming his fist through the plasterboard. He not only had to seize control of her mind, but now he had to break this unholy connection.

He whirled to find her sitting up.

How could he not have her mind? She’d gone to sleep and wakened on cue. Unless…

“Lie down,” he barked. And she did. Instantly. “Sit up.” She jerked upright as if pulled by an unseen cord.

“Stop it!” she cried. “How are you doing this?”

He seemed to have gotten control of her body and not her mind. How in the hell had that happened? And what good did it do? He needed to keep her from remembering him!

“Lie down.”

She fell back, mouth wide with disbelief, eyes filled with terror as she struggled to move, but he’d told her to lie down, and that was all she could do.

“What have you done to me?”

He smiled bitterly. “It seems I’ve got you under my control, Agent Randall. Just not the way I wanted, dammit.”

He saw the realization in her eyes, the understanding of just how vulnerable she really was. Raw, icy fear rolled across his tongue, hurling him back to another time. In his mind, he saw Gretchen, his beloved Gretchen, her eyes wide with terror.

She should have known. She should have known.

At the hated taste on his tongue, fury ripped through him, tearing him loose from his control. He felt the burn of his claws unsheathing, the ache of his fangs getting ready to drop.

Not now. Not now.

He longed to hurt her, to punish her for her fear. For her betrayal. She’d destroyed him. Taken everything from him, everything that had ever mattered.

For a second, his mind cleared. He was staring at Delaney, not Gretchen. Delaney.

Desperately, he tried to wrench back control. But it was too late. Too late.

“Close your eyes and stay there!” He whirled away from her as the chaos swept him into that place of fury and violence, a place where he was neither man nor beast, yet utterly inhuman. As he lifted the chest of drawers and slammed it against the wall, shattering the mirror, the chaos swept him away.

The sound of shattering glass tore through Delaney’s eardrums as she lay, stuck to the bed, unable to open her eyes. Unable to move.

This is not happening. It is not happening!

Pieces of furniture crashed against one another, wood splintering, glass shattering. And she couldn’t move to get out of the way.

She struggled to sit up, grinding her elbows into the mattress as she pushed with all her strength, but it was as if an invisible hand held her down.

Her mouth went dry. Good God, she had to get out of there.

What has he done to me?

He had to be using some kind of mind-control drug on her. Twice now, he’d knocked her out. And just before he’d put her to sleep the second time, she’d had this strange urge to trust him. Mind control. With a sudden certainty, she knew he was no run-of-the-mill psychopath. There was more going on here. Much more.

But why experiment on a federal agent? Unless…

The answer, so obvious, chilled her to the marrow of her bones. She had access to information, to places, to people, most never would. He could turn her into the ultimate terrorists’ weapon. Until her fellow agents killed her. Then he’d simply kidnap another.

The ramifications reverberated through her head. The lives that would be lost. The lives he’d force her to take.

I have to get out of here.

If she could escape before the drug fully wore off, while it was still in her blood, the lab might be able to identify it. They might be able to create an antidote. Or even find a way to duplicate it.