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She didn’t want to leave her home. She had fought most of her life to stay, to hold together the fragile remnants of happier days and comfort herself with them. Now that was being taken as well.
She would have to fix the truck. It was more dependable than the car, and would get her further.
Unfortunately, like the car, it wasn’t in the best of shape. But it could be fixed. And she’d better fix it damned soon, because sure as hell her father wouldn’t wait long before trying to sell her to the highest bidder.
She shuddered in fear.
“Why did you do this, Taber?” she whispered with bleak sorrow into the empty living room, her empty heart.
She had been alone since the day Dayan had handed her the letter Taber had sent her. At first she had dated, determined to get over the one man she had always dreamed of loving
. But she had learned quickly that her body would never accept the touch of another man, and her heart ached for what she knew she couldn’t have. But at times like this, when she desperately needed a shoulder to cry on, being alone really sucked.
Chapter Two
Roni stared into the guts and glory of the pickup truck she was working on hours later and sighed wearily as she finally admitted failure. It just wasn’t going to get fixed today, no matter how badly she wanted it done. And time was running out.
The ever-present trembling in her hands, the ache in the pit of her stomach, were too severe, and the fear washing through her mind did little to allow her the concentration she needed to fix the stubborn vehicle. Her father wouldn’t wait long before he made his move. When he did, her life wouldn’t be worth spit. But if she didn’t control the effects of what Taber had done to her, then she was in more trouble than she needed anyway.
It was getting worse, the weakness that assailed her, accompanied by an arousal that came just short of painful. This was one of the more severe spells that she had suffered over the past months, and the knowledge of where it stemmed from terrified her.
She lowered her head wearily as she braced her arms on the front of the vehicle and shook her head.
She wanted to run, to hide. She wanted to return to a time when she could dream and find comfort in those dreams, but reality refused to allow her the vacation she needed.
There was no escaping the news stories, no escaping the truth that had exploded across the world. Roni had tried to bury herself in work rather than become glued to the television screen, as many others were.
Or worse yet, being interviewed by many of the television crews that had invaded the small town of Sandy Hook, Kentucky. She had ignored it, until her father had forced the truth on her.
Thankfully, so far she had managed to avoid the intrepid reporters and suspicious journalists. There were plenty of others more than willing to talk, though, and those interviews aired several times a day. As though the world couldn’t get enough of this newest sensation.
Project Alpha. The creation of a special army designed to fight, to kill. Part animal, instinctive in their fighting responses and in their savagery. Rumor and innuendo hinted that the animal genetics they possessed went much deeper than just surface awareness or their incredible fighting skills. It had been hinted that the sexuality of the creatures was in question as well.
Leaks among the scientists that had tested the five Breeds and Callan Lyons’ wife, Merinus Tyler, hinted at a hormonal infection, a biological “marking” that had bound Merinus to the fierce Callan.
Roni trembled as she remembered the news story, her hand moving instinctively to her own neck, her own “bruise”. It didn’t matter that the Breeds were firmly denying this, that many in the scientific field were scoffing at it. She knew it was the truth. She knew because she carried Taber’s mark; suffered, often painfully with an arousal that couldn’t be dimmed no matter what she tried. And yet couldn’t be assuaged by another, either.
In the fifteen months since the stolen moments she had shared with him outside the garage, she had been unable to allow any other man to touch her. The very thought of being with anyone besides Taber made her ill.
She dropped the wrench she was using in the lip of the truck’s frame and jumped off the plastic crate she used for the extra height to reach the motor.
Anger spread through her system; helpless, searing anger in the face of the truths she was learning. He had touched her knowing what he would do to her. Knowing he was marking her, binding her to him in a way she would never escape and then he had just walked away from her as though it had never happened.
Had she taken him seriously? Of course not, she grunted. Hell, no. Why would she do something like that? She slammed the hood closed before turning and stalking furiously back into the house.
This had to stop. She had been shaking with anger, with emotions she didn’t want to deal with ever since the first news report hit the air. This was worse than the constant arousal she couldn’t seem to rid herself of, the irritation if anyone touched her, the mood swings that often plagued her; there was a deep, overwhelming feeling of betrayal.
She washed quickly, changing into clean jeans and a light blouse before grabbing up her car keys and purse and heading back outside to her car. She needed to buy groceries and maybe a set of spark plugs for that stupid truck, she thought. And she needed to forget about Taber, whether it was what her body wanted or not.
The drive into Sandy Hook took less than twenty minutes; getting through town took longer. Tourism had boomed, but it wasn’t the gorge they had come to see, it was the town and the gossip they were after.
“Home of the Breeds”,a sign proclaimed outside the county limits in every direction. Several new motels were being built and signs outside larger homes advertised rooms for rent. They were even organizing freaking tours into the gorge and cliffs where it was known Callan and his family often hunted and hid.
New lies were being created daily for the hundreds of visitors that were flocking to the small town.
By the time she pulled into the auto parts store, Roni was irritated and running low on patience, which wasn’t high to begin with. She felt like snarling as she managed to work her way to the counter and purchase the parts she needed for the truck.
“Here you go, Roni.” Harried and appearing nearly as frustrated as she was, John O’Brien handed her the small plastic bag and her change as he glanced behind her and snapped out angrily, “Damned news vans are blocking my parking lot again. Stupid asses.”
