Where Darkness Lives (Guardians of Eternity #7.75)(30)

With a visible effort the cur halted his retreat, gathering his shaken courage as he sent her a chiding glare.

“Now, Sophia, I must insist that the mother of my children not use such foul language,” he informed her. “It’s indecent.”

Still weak from whatever poison he’d pumped into her system, Sophia swayed on the edge of the cot, wondering which of them had lost their minds.

She was betting on the cur.

“Mother?” She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “Are you mental?”

Pinpricks of crimson flashed through the pale eyes. “Don’t push me.”

Oh, pushing him was going to be the last of the little prick’s concern once she got her strength back, she assured herself, glancing around the six-by-six-foot cell that was paneled with sheets of silver.

“Where are we?”

“My private lair beneath Victoria’s house.” He regained command of his composure, one hand smoothing down his white polo shirt. His other hand held a small device that Sophia suspected was some sort of weapon. “Don’t worry, she knows better than to come down here. We won’t be interrupted.”

Her lip curled in scorn. “Does she suspect that you’re a psychopath?”

She had barely finished her taunt when Morton pressed a button on the device and the collar around her neck began to sizzle. The next thing she knew a massive jolt of electricity speared through her body, nearly toppling her off the cot onto the cement floor.

“Shit,” she breathed.

“I did warn you.”

She clenched her teeth, imagining the pleasure of gutting the pasty-faced cur over and over and over... .

“What do you want with me?”

“I told you,” he scolded. “I’ve chosen you to be the mother of my children.”

“No doubt in your demented mind you think I should be honored by the offer, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take a pass.” Her stomach heaved at the mere thought. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Even prepared for the bolt of electricity, Sophia couldn’t halt her yip of pain, her legs trembling and sweat coating her skin.

“You will learn,” Morton growled.

Her hand weakly lifted toward the metal wrapped around her neck.

“Christ, where the hell did you get this thing?”

“I invented it myself,” the cur preened, as if expecting Sophia to admire his handiwork. “Just as I invented the serum that knocked you out. I’m a scientist.”

“So was Dr. Frankenstein,” she muttered. “You know how that turned out.”

Zap.

She leaned down until her forehead touched her knees, fighting against the urge to vomit.

“You will learn to respect me,” Morton abruptly shouted, clearly unhinged by her refusal to play the game by his rules.

Not surprising.

Morton-the-cur was a born victim who had no doubt been bullied and mocked by others his entire life.

“Why?” she demanded. “Because you can create torture devices?”

“That’s merely my hobby.” His smile was edged with a smug pride. “My true genius is chemistry. Which is why Caine hired me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Caine was currently missing along with her daughter Cassandra.

At one time he’d been under the sway of a demon lord who’d convinced him that he was destined to change curs into pure-blooded Weres.

A part of the prophecy had come true when the same demon lord had taken a path directly through Caine on his way back to hell, transforming him from a cur into a Were.

“You worked with Caine?”

The cur shrugged. “Yes, although we disagreed on how to accomplish our goal to turn curs into pure-blooded Weres.”

“And how did you hope to accomplish such a miracle?”

She expected him to refuse to answer. Weren’t mad scientists usually secretive about their strange experiments?

Instead he answered without hesitation.

“In the same way your king did.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I intend to alter the DNA of our children while they are still in your womb.”

“You ...”

Words failed her, her mind refusing to return to those long days in Salvatore’s clinic. She’d been a willing participant and it had still been near unbearable. With an effort she squashed the rising panic. She would die before she allowed this freak to impregnate her. First, however, she would try to reason with him.

“Even supposing that you do manage to change our children into Weres, how does that help the other curs?” she asked.

His eyes lit with the gleam of a true fanatic. “I can use their blood to help create a vaccine that will transform all of us.”

She shook her head, not about to try and point out to Dr. Evil that the magic that created a pure-blooded Were couldn’t be found in a test tube. It was always futile to argue with a true believer.

“Why me?” she instead asked.

“You’ve already proven yourself to be a fertile breeder.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

He seemed caught off guard by her response. “I mean that with the greatest respect.”

Said the psycho to his electrified prisoner.