Page 99 of Crimson Moon Falling

The doctor smirked. “We don’t need a paralytic. I’ll just tighten her ankle restraints.”

He grabbed the straps and pulled them tight while I struggled. The catheter shifted uncomfortably as the doctor’s gloved fingers pressed between my thighs.

Something hot and sick rose in my throat as he fiddled with the catheter, removing the clip on the inside of my thigh, hooking up a syringe to remove the water, then slowly pulling the tube out.

He cleaned me up down there, and I turned my head so they couldn’t see my face. The implant pulsated, trying to create distance between what was happening to my body and my mind.

That’s when I felt it.

A shift in the room’s energy, subtle but unmistakable. Wilson’s calm, rational façade hadn’t changed. His posture was still perfect, his expression controlled. But underneath, his feelings of arousal spread over my Resonant senses.

Langston too. His energy was thinner and more anxious, but there was a quick, shameful spike of lust. The bastards were getting off on it, watching me pinned down and examined while they stood there, pretending this was just procedure.

Becker didn’t try to hide his erection or his interest when his fingers moved inside me, at first probing around, then in a slow in-and-out motion. I swallowed hard and started counting ceiling tiles. When he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, he pushed up my hospital gown, then grabbed my breasts, kneading them cruelly.

Langston stepped forward. “That’s enough. We’re professionals here, not animals. And if Alpha Segerson hears about this, he’ll track you down and kill you slowly.”

The doctor scowled at Langston, but he reluctantly pulled my gown down and finished his exam. “Her reproductive system appears normal. No abnormalities, and her blood work came back negative for pregnancy.”

He adjusted himself, then brought the bed up to a sitting position, pushing my torso forward so he could access the back of my neck. I pushed against his rough hands, but he viciously pinched my thigh.

“Hold still,” he snarled, roughly palming my head and pushing it down. The mobile scanner hummed as he ran it across the area.

“There’s remarkable integration here,” Becker murmured absently, studying the monitor next to the bed. “The implant has meshed with her cervical cortex and fused with the neural tissue to a degree I haven’t seen before. I heard the Roswell group created a few specialized biocompatible models.” He tapped the screen. “The implant is sitting right there. It’s remarkable.”

Wilson stepped closer, studying the screen. “Could it ever be removed?”

“Not without risk of paralysis or cognitive impairment. It’s too integrated.”

“And functionality? What’s her experience been?”

The doctor grinned. “She’s right here. Let’s ask her.”

When Doctor Becker turned to me, I reared back and headbutted him in the nose. He yelled and grabbed my throat, squeezing painfully, but Wilson peeled him off. I choked and gasped, trying to catch my breath.

“Enough! I need her in one piece and relatively unhurt. You’re excused.” When the doctor slammed out of the room, holding his battered and bleeding nose, Wilson turned and abruptly backhanded me across the face.

My head snapped to the side. “If you hurt one of my staff again, I will let that person do whatever he or she wishes to you for one hour, short of permanent injury or death. That leaves a lot of options. Some like to sodomize the offender to teach them a lesson. Others enjoy breath play and other forms of torture. An hour can feel like an eternity. Do we understand each other?”

My forehead throbbed as I glared at him through my hair. It’d been worth it. “Yes,” I ground out.

“Tell me about your experiences with your implant. The sensations, the side effects, any cognitive changes.”

“Zero out of ten, would not recommend.”

His mouth tightened. “Be serious.”

“I have a foreign object integrated into my brain stem. It doesn’t get more serious than that.”

I could’ve told him how the implant seemed to enhance my analytical abilities and how, at first, it was terrifying to have another entity inside my head, shutting off my emotions and analyzing the hell out of everything.

I also could’ve told them how the implant had evolved and how we were learning to communicate with each other. But after everything they’d done to me and so many other Cogs and shifters, it would be a cold day in hell before I voluntarily gave them anything.

Wilson folded his arms. “If you don’t want to talk about the implant, we’ll talk about something else. How is Alpha Segerson planning to combat the shifter registration legislation?”

Maybe giving him vague, useless answers would save me from being assaulted again. “He obviously opposes it. Other than that, I don’t know.”

“Don’t play dumb. What does he know about the Chimera Project?”