Taming the Darkness: Love & Monsters, Book 2 (2 page)

Wanted her.

Nightfall. It rushed through him, cascading through his cells. Like being let out on the last day of school with all the glorious days of summer stretched out in front of him. Victor lifted his hands, closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation. He stayed like that for a long moment, then he got up and paced. “Let me out,” he told the man on the other side of the thick glass.

“You need a few minutes to calm down. They’re on their way.”

Victor snorted his frustration. Wanted out. Wanted to run and kill. They’d kept him in this little white box for too long. He rushed the glass wall and slammed into it. He bounced off and the wall shuddered. The man’s eyes—Berkstrom, yes, that was his name—went wide and he took a few steps back.

“Out,” Victor growled. Too long without sky, too long without fresh air. What smells would be out there, now that he had such a sensitive nose? He banged his fist on the glass, mostly to see the look on Berkstrom’s face, then he went back to pacing. His arms itched like they wanted to change, but if they came and found him walking around on all fours and sporting claws, they wouldn’t take him out for hours, maybe not all night.

Little by little, Victor calmed down, although calm was a relative term with him lately, especially at night. Twenty minutes after nightfall, Major Alston and two guards came in. “Are you going to behave yourself tonight, Lieutenant?” The major was the project director, the one fighting to use the alts as a weapon.

“Are you taking me to the pens?” The muscles in Victor’s legs twitched with the urge to pace, but he forced himself to stay still. Careful. Controlled.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” Victor echoed. “Is Claire waiting there?”

Alston nodded. “I thought it was important she see what you’re capable of.”

Victor walked up to the door, his steps slow and measured. “I’ll be on my best behavior until we get there.” Excitement hummed in him. So hard to keep control.

They let him out and went down the hall to the elevator. One guard in front, one behind and the major taking up the rear. The elevator was hard, such a tight space, pressing close to three men who all smelled like food. They let Victor walk without restraints, one of only two that were allowed to do so. The other one was Patterson, who’d been a soldier on the way to a long career before the world went to hell. Everything about Patterson was rigid control, and even being altered hadn’t taken that from him.

A fine tremor started in his right arm when the elevator opened and let them out. It got worse as they neared the pens. “What have you got for me today?”

“It’s a surprise,” the major told him. Finally, they opened the doors and let him through. There was an outer door and an inner door, just like his cell upstairs, except the second door led into a huge room fifteen feet lower than the observation area. He hurried down the stairs so fast his nose was still registering Claire’s scent when he reached the bottom. He looked up to the row of windows and saw her watching from one of them. He grinned and gave her a double thumbs up. She frowned.

Victor turned to the door on the other end. A surprise. The tremor spread to his whole body and he didn’t hold back any more. He hunched down and let his body shift. He could adjust his body in several different ways, and he went for something relatively simple this time. Longer, thicker arms and sharp little claws at the ends of his fingers. Wider shoulders, leg muscles and bones adjusted for greater flexibility. What was Claire thinking, watching this? He shook his head and kept his eyes on the door. The panel slid up, and after a breathless second it came out.

A slasher. Humanoid with mottled gray-green skin, sharp spines along its back, arms longer and thinner than Victor’s and hands and feet tipped with huge claws. It could move on two or four legs and was wickedly fast either way. Victor smiled. Claire was going to get a show.

They both hunched low and the slasher growled. Victor moved forward, trying to bait it into moving first. The slasher growled deeper and sniffed the air.
Don’t know what I am, do you? Well, I don’t either.
Victor lunged, and this time the slasher reacted. True to its name, it swiped out with those wicked claws, sharp enough decapitate a human. Victor danced aside and slashed with his much smaller claws. He missed and the slasher lashed out again. The claws whipped past his nose, missing him by an inch. The slasher moved in close and Victor had to back up as fast as he could to stay out of range.

Victor stayed out of its way for five minutes, managing to make two shallow cuts on the slasher’s face, which pissed it off. The nasty hissed its rage and doubled its efforts to kill Victor, but the poor thing didn’t know what it was up against. This was fun for Victor. It wasn’t
easy
, but that’s part of what made it fun. Now the real fight started. They tangled with each other, a rolling mass of teeth and claws. Victor broke away with a deep gash on his left arm, but the nasty had five deep furrows along its side, the white of its ribs showing.

The creature spun too fast for him to avoid and the sharp pain of a cut burned across Victor’s arm and shoulder. Growling, Victor retaliated, sinking his claws into the fresh wounds on the nasty’s side. For a second, the claws stuck on one of the exposed ribs and the thing yowled. The creature lunged, making things worse as Victor’s claws slipped down and caught on another rib, and Victor was stuck. He dropped to the ground, air whistling as the nasty’s huge claws just missed his head. With a tug, Victor freed himself and did more damage to the creature’s side. Several strips of bloody flesh now dangled from it.

The slasher made a hissing whine and tried to run away. There was nowhere to go but up. It got to the wall and started to climb, sticking to it like a huge lizard. Victor went after it, jumping and pulling the creature down. They hit ground, Victor twisting this way and that to stay away from the claws and spines. He got around behind it, a little to the right to avoid the spines, and wrapped his arms around the nasty’s neck. With a quick snap, the fight was over and he dropped the slasher’s limp body.

He threw back his head and howled. Victor suspected his dose of the vaccine had a lot of werewolf in it. Stepping away from the slasher, he shifted his body back to normal. New normal, anyway. He wanted to lick the wound on his arm, but the scientists frowned on that sort of thing. He went up the stairs to have it properly treated. It would be almost gone by tomorrow night, but they insisted on cleaning and dressing his wounds anyway.

When he stepped into the observation room, Claire looked at him with wide eyes and backed away. “You’re infected.”

Victor held up his arm and looked at the wound, then over at her. “Did you forget? Or didn’t they tell you? The vaccine works. It’s just that it has all these
side effects
.”

“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” Alston said. “You can come with us if you want,” he told Claire.

She pressed her lips together and then nodded.
Not running away then. Yes, they gave me a good one.

Chapter Two

She watched them bandage his arm and noted that the whole time a guard stood near the door with his gun at the ready. Now she understood why they’d had her meet him during the day. He was definitely different at night. Terrifying. The way he’d shifted his body just like one of
them
made her sick to her stomach. Still, when he got up to go back to his cell, she asked to go with him.

Major Alston and the two guards went with them. “I’d like to go into the cell with him for a while, sir,” she told the major as they walked.

“It would be better if you wait until tomorrow. He’s dangerous enough at night, but now he’ll be worked up after killing the creature.”

“You want us to go out together killing nasties. I’m going to have to be around him not just after a kill, but during it. If I can’t be relatively safe with him in a cell, I’m not going to be safe with him outside the walls.”

“We plan to make the transition gradual, to increase your chances of…success.”

Claire thought he might have wanted to say
survival
. “I understand that, sir, but I’d rather be out there now killing nasties, and I think he would too.”

Monroe looked over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow raised. “Thought my little demonstration might have scared you off.”

“I don’t scare easily.” Although he had to smell her fear. She still felt it, but she didn’t
act
on it often.

Monroe smiled.

“You can spend some time with him, but I’m leaving a guard in the outer room,” the major said.

“Thank you, sir.”

They got to the cell and she followed Monroe inside. With him standing so close, she could appreciate how big he was. Had he always been built like a football player, or had that happened after he was altered?

“You stink of fear,” he said.

She swallowed. “I can’t help how I feel, especially after what I just saw you do.”

“And you’re still in here with me.”

He was a few feet away, much closer than he had been that morning. She’d thought he was intense then. Shit, that was nothing compared to what he was now. He loomed over her, at least a foot taller, his sweat suit stained with blood and darker fluids. And those eyes. Those damn freaky eyes.

“Exactly. We’re supposed to be partners. I’ve got to learn not to be afraid of you, so why not start now?” Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she took a step toward him.

Monroe took a step back. “What are you doing?”

“I want to touch you.”

“What?” He took another step back. “I might bite your head off, Little Red.”

She’d been thinking much the same thing. “Then this will be a really fucking short partnership, won’t it?” Sweat dampened her armpits and the small of her back. She took another step toward him.

He growled and backed away. “Wait until morning. Can’t control it now.”

“We’re supposed to patrol at night, so I need to trust you at night.” She reached a hand out like she was about to pet a strange dog.

He kept slowly backing away from her. “You smell like food. Scared food. Want to eat you. Can’t control it.”

She fought to keep her hand from shaking. “Then why are you backing away?”

He glared. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“So you do have some control.” Oh God, she hoped she was right.

He kept backing until he hit the far wall. “Might bite your hand off.”

“I need that to shoot with.” Her voice shook, but she forced herself to keep moving. Claire pressed her hand against his huge tattered sweatshirt, streaked with blood and who knew what else. Underneath it his chest was solid muscle.

He closed his eyes, his breath coming in pants. It was easier to see him as human without those strange eyes, especially the blue one, looking back at her. But she could never forget what he was capable of. She was risking her life here.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. “You proved your point. Now get away from me.”

She dropped her arm and took two steps back. “I know I’m pushing it, but I want to be out there as soon as possible. I thought this whole thing was crazy until I saw you in there with the slasher. You really can go up against them, and a bite or a scratch won’t take you out. And we won’t have to worry about supplying you with weapons, since you’ve got your own.” Guns worked well enough against the nasties, but keeping up the supply of weapons and ammunition was a constant problem.

“You just have to worry about me killing the people I’m supposed to protect.” He huddled against the wall.

“You just have to worry about not killing
me
. You’re not going to be wandering around inside the walls.”

“Yeah. This is the closest I’ll ever get to the city again.” He looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see through it to the street above. A pang of sadness went through her. He’d put himself at risk for the good of others, and now he was condemned to stay outside what little society was left. “My only chance of getting out of here is to go on patrol.”

“Exactly. So the more control you have, the sooner we can get out of here and do some damage.”

He fixed his gaze on her, and his eyes were the clearest she’d seen them all night. As sharp and clear as they’d been that morning. “Hard to be important when you’re stuck down here, right?”

She glared at him. “I’m your ticket out of here. Don’t fuck with me.”

He lunged so fast she had no time to react. Monroe snapped his teeth an inch from her nose and she stumbled back, her arms held up in defense. She heard hurried footsteps and someone shouted, “Step back!”

Growling, he backed away from her. “I could kill you in a second, so don’t fuck with
me
.”

The guard wrapped a hand around her arm. “Time to go, Lieutenant.” He had his gun trained on Monroe. She didn’t argue, backing out with him.

Just as they reached the doorway, Monroe called, “See you tomorrow, Claire.”

She decided she hated him. It was like he was determined to fuck things up for her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.” He leaned closer and growled in her face. “You stay up here.” Victor looked over at Major Alston. “Tell her she has to stay up here.”

He saw the flash of anger in the man’s eyes and realized he’d just ordered around his superior. Oh, well. “I agree with her, Lieutenant. You’ve made considerable progress the last few nights.”