Undone (The Amoveo Legend) (15 page)

He’d never felt like such a failure in his life.

“You’ve got to stop beating yourself up.” Kerry’s voice cut into his internal pity party as she sidled up next to him. “We’ll find her.”

“Is Daniella awake yet?” He didn’t want pity or sympathy. He wanted answers, and the only one who had any was Daniella, but she wasn’t coughing up any answers as long as she was passed out. Tramp whined and nuzzled Pete’s leg, seeking or offering comfort, Pete wasn’t sure which, but he appreciated the gesture.

“Not yet.” Kerry stuck a steaming cup of coffee in his face. “Drink this. It’ll give you something else to do with your hands than play with that ring.”

“No thanks.” Pete dropped his hands and stuffed them in his jeans pockets. “I’m wired enough.”

“You know,” Kerry said before taking a sip of the coffee herself, “you should stop being such a big baby.”

“What?” Pete shot her a deadly glare, and Tramp growled.

“You act like you’re the first person to find out that he’s a freak.” She smirked and glanced at the dog. “This is a house full of freaks. The hellhound is a new addition, but that’s fine by me. I love dogs, and I think it’s nice that you have a pet.”

Pete stilled and speared a glance in her direction. He hadn’t told any of them about Asmodeus or his newly revealed heritage. Dante and the others had assumed that the telepathy was a new side effect of his mating with Marianna, and he never bothered to correct them. Hell. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about it, so how was he supposed to explain it?

“You knew.” Pete looked into her smiling brown eyes, and the knot in his stomach loosened. “You saw something that day when you touched my hand in the elevator, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Kerry elbowed him playfully and bumped him with her hip. “You always were a quick study. I saw it then, but I had to let you find out for yourself—you were having enough trouble tackling the whole idea of being Marianna’s mate.”

Pete smiled in spite of the situation and folded his arms over his chest as he looked at the wintery scene. Tramp barked again, as if asking him,
what’s up?
However, much to his relief, the dog didn’t actually talk.

“As soon as she wakes up, we’ll get the answers we need.” Her eyes flickered and glowed to the bright yellow eyes of her panther. “With or without her cooperation.”

Daniella
is
waking
up.
Dante’s voice cut into Pete’s mind with an odd familiarity.
The
prince
has
requested
we
all
be
present
at
her
interrogation.

Pete watched as Kerry’s eyes flickered to their natural human brown, and a smile curved her lips.

“You heard him too?” Pete asked tentatively.

“I heard the same thing you did… and then some.” She winked and linked her arm through his. “Let’s go have a little chat with Daniella, or maybe she and I will just hold hands.”

Marianna adjusted the white robe and tightened the tie around her waist as she and five other women were escorted, single file, down the brightly lit hallway. Two armed guards, dressed in black fatigues, walked on either side in silence. It was the first time in the past two days that she’d seen anyone other than her captors. She’d tried telepathy with the other women, but if they heard her, they didn’t respond, and none attempted to make eye contact.

When she came out of her room and first saw them, she immediately looked for her friend Courtney, but she wasn’t among them. She didn’t recognize the other girls, but they were obviously held under duress like her. Wearing the same robes, they looked weak and unkempt.

Who knows how long they had been here. Days? Weeks? Months? One woman looked pregnant, maybe four months along, but she looked very sick. She was at the front of the line, and at a few points, Marianna thought she was going to pass out, but when she slowed down, the guard urged her forward with the butt of his rifle.

They’d been walking down a maze of hallways for what seemed like forever. Marianna hadn’t seen a single window, which gave her the impression they were in a network of underground tunnels. At first, she’d tried to commit the path to memory and watch for any door, or opportunity to escape, but everything looked the same. And before long, she had absolutely no sense of where they really were.

The hallway turned sharply to the left, and when they rounded the corner, Marianna looked past the women and saw a huge steel door about ten feet ahead. One guard pressed a button next to the door, and a few moments later, a loud buzzing sound filled the hall. He held the door open as the women filed through it obediently.

Marianna glanced up and saw the red eye of a camera clocking their every move.

“Eyes front.” The guard behind her jabbed her in the ribs with the tip of his gun.

Marianna bit her lip against the sharp pain in her side and fought the urge to tell him to fuck off. She kept her eyes on the blond head of the girl in front, but her gaze didn’t remain there for long.

They were led into a large space with auditorium-style seating filled with about forty Amoveo, whom she could only assume were pure-bloods… and Purists. All stood at their seats. They were dressed in the same black uniform as the guards, and every set of glowing Amoveo eyes were locked on them, tracking their every move as they were led into the room. She could tell by the texture and density of the energy signatures that most of the Amoveo in the audience were already mated, and many were far older than she was.

The collective, dark energy waves of the group battered her relentlessly and brought on another wave of nausea. She focused on putting one slipper-clad foot in front of the other and willed herself not to pass out.

She flicked her eyes to the crowd, and as she got closer to the front, she finally saw a familiar face, one of the only unmated Amoveo in the room. Savannah stood in the front row, but today she wasn’t in her scrubs; she wore the same uniform as the others. Marianna tried to capture her gaze, but Savannah artfully avoided it, and in the process, Marianna saw Hayden standing next to her with his trademark smirk.

She wanted to try telepathy with her, but when she saw who was on stage, she stopped dead in her tracks before she was nudged again.

Artimus sat in large black throne at the center of the stage, flanked by Dr. Moravian and nine former Council members, each seated in smaller versions of the chair he occupied. All members who had declared themselves Purists and abandoned the Council two months ago were staring at her from the stage.

She couldn’t believe these people could stand by and watch what was happening. They acted as though they didn’t know who she was. Apparently, they’d formed an entirely new government with Artimus fixed at the center as their king.

A massive banner hung behind the group, which read,
Purity
is
Strength
.

The line of women were brought before the stage and ordered to face Artimus and the others. Marianna held her breath and waited. She half expected the guards to shoot them in some kind of mass execution, but much to her relief, that didn’t happen. Both guards stood in front of the stage on either side of Artimus and faced the room, ready in case anyone got out of line.

Artimus’s hulking form rose from his chair and he held both hands up to the audience.

“Take your seats, my devoted people.” His baritone rumbled through the room, and they silently took their seats.

Marianna took note that neither Artimus, nor the rest of the elders, wore the uniform like the others. They were decked out in usual attire. Suits for the men and elegant gowns for the women, which made them look like a sinister royal court—she expected Artimus to wear a crown.

The stunning blond to his left looked at Marianna with hate-filled eyes. Veronica had been the female representative from the Lion Clan, and until recently, sat at the prince’s side for all Council meetings. But now she sat next to Artimus as though she was the freaking Queen of England. Her lips curled into a smug grin, as she looked Marianna up and down.

That’s a fabulous robe.
Her voice sliced into Marianna’s mind with as much condescension as one would expect.
You
certainly
have
found
your
place
in
this
world, haven’t you? Where’s your human mate now?

Marianna didn’t respond. She simply looked away and fought the desire to climb up on that stage and scratch her eyes out. Getting upset would only give her some kind of sick satisfaction, and she’d be damned if Veronica, or any of the rest, would get that from her.

Artimus turned his glowing black eyes to the line of women in front. He scanned the group before settling his cold sights on Marianna. “As you can see, we have lost a few more participants in the past week.” The hint of a smile played at his lips for a moment before fading. “I know that the unmated females devoted to the cause have expressed interest in participating in the program, and you’ve been wondering why you haven’t been selected. I assure you that there is a valid reason for waiting.” He snapped his fingers. “Dr. Moravian, would you please give us your latest findings.”

Artimus sat down and turned the floor over to Dr. Moravian, who looked far less comfortable speaking to the group than Artimus did. Marianna watched as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. She sweated right along with him as she waited for him to explain what happened to the other
participants
.

His voice carried easily over the crowd. “We have had trouble with the initial test subjects with this new breeding initiative. We had three more participants expire over the past week, and until we find out why this is happening, I would prefer not to risk the lives of the true believers.”

A murmur broke out among the crowd behind Marianna, and their collective energy signatures pulsed with nerves and fear. The doctor motioned to the guards, who quickly escorted the young pregnant woman from the front of the line and brought her to the foot of the stage.

Weak and shaking, she didn’t fight, but stood there meekly. Her eyes, vacant of emotion, stared at the ground, and her hands remained at her side—not over her rounding belly. It was as if she didn’t know she was pregnant or didn’t care. She reminded Marianna of a zombie—totally disengaged.

The murmuring of the crowd grew louder.

“As you can see,” Dr. Moravian said, gesturing to the poor girl, “this one is viable, and if all goes smoothly, she should birth a pure-blood for the Lion Clan in the next five months. Unfortunately, the test subjects from the Wolf, Tiger, and Cheetah Clans expired.”

The murmuring grew to a dull roar.

“But our participant from the Coyote Clan has been successfully impregnated. She is watched closely in the medical facility, which is why she is not here today.”

Marianna’s heart went into her throat. Courtney. The Coyote Clan
participant
had to be Courtney, and for the moment, she was still alive. Dread clawed at her as she wondered how exactly she’d gotten pregnant. It must’ve been artificial insemination, but she couldn’t help but wonder if one or more Purist men like Hayden had tried the old-fashioned way.

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and looked at the vacant expression of the pregnant girl from the Lion Clan. This girl had been traumatized—there was no doubt about that—and she strongly suspected that it was in more ways than one.

Her gaze flicked back to Artimus, who was staring with pure hatred in his eyes. Marianna didn’t flinch and returned his glare with equal fervor before turning her sights back to the doctor.

“It is quite unorthodox for us to allow nonbelievers into our sanctuary, but Artimus felt it was important for you to know how hard we’re working to bring you the future of our race. We will not stop until we have found the answers to keeping the Amoveo line pure.”

The group broke into thunderous applause and raucous cheers, which was why it took everyone a minute or two to realize that the pregnant girl had fainted.

Dr. Moravian jumped from the stage, and Savannah rushed from her seat to help the poor creature. Troubled rumblings quickly replaced the applause, and Marianna watched as the doctor and Savannah tended the girl.

The girl’s body convulsed wildly, and her eyes rolled back in her head, as a pool of blood spread beneath her. Savannah attempted to hold her still as the doctor tended to her, but moments later she went still. Marianna watched in horror as a rivulet of blood trickled toward her across the white tiled floor. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming, but she couldn’t stop the tears as they fell down her cheeks.

“Damn it!” Dr. Moravian rose slowly from his place next to the motionless girl and looked as bewildered as anyone. “She’s dead. I don’t understand why this is happening.”

The crowd broke into a frenzy of arguments as the energy signatures of the group flared violently around the room. Marianna sobbed quietly as the doctor wiped blood off his hands with the handkerchief from his pocket. She looked at the broken, bleeding body of that girl and knew that if she didn’t get out of here, she was going to die too.

Through the shouts and murmurs, Marianna’s attention was caught by Savannah, who sat on the ground with the dead girl’s head in her lap. She stroked her hair as tears fell freely down her face. She glanced up and captured Marianna’s eyes with hers.
We
have
to
stop
this.
Her teary voice touched Marianna’s mind on a whisper.

The bone-shattering bellow of a bear thundered through the room, and everyone fell silent.

Artimus had shifted into his grizzly bear form and was standing on his enormous hind legs at the center of the stage. He fell to all fours, kicked his chair, and growled ferociously as his glowing black eyes glared at the crowd. The other Amoveo stood and kept their shifted, glowing eyes on Artimus. Despite their best efforts to look authoritative, the only thing they managed to do was look scared.

Artimus roared again and reared to his hind legs. All Amoveo onstage bowed their heads and fell to one knee. Veronica peered at Marianna with that smug look as she took to her knee in deference to her leader.

Veronica, your offering from the Lion Clan has not
been successful.
Artimus’s voice blared into their minds
.
Failure will not be tolerated.

Without warning, Artimus whipped to his left and snatched Veronica by the throat with his powerful jaws. He picked her up like a rag doll as she kicked and flailed helplessly in his grasp for a few seconds. With a sickening crunch, he bit through her neck. Blood sprayed onto Marianna and the others as Veronica’s blond head was severed from her body and fell to the stage with a wet thump.

“No!” Dr. Moravian screamed. “Artimus, she is a pure-blood.”

Artimus dropped her limp body, and Marianna watched with horror as blood dripped from the edge of the stage. She lifted her shaking hands and looked in disbelief at the splatters that marked her—blood, which up until two minutes ago, had been pumping through Veronica’s veins. The gory scene was an assault on her senses and her sanity.

Now
she’s an example.
Artimus, with blood dripping from his muzzle, spun toward Dr. Moravian, who flinched but said nothing else.
Get
the
body
back
to
the
medical
lab, and take her apart until you figure out what’s going wrong.
The deep baritone of his voice slammed into their collective minds as he turned to face the rest of the room.
All
of
the
devoted
will
go
back
to
their
dwellings
within
the
compound. You will revisit your lists. The participants you are bringing us are weak, and that is unacceptable. Veronica’s offering was unworthy and wasted our time and resources. Each clan must bring me at least one more participant for the program.

Artimus shimmered and shifted back to his human state; eyes still glowing he looked out over his followers. Marianna glanced at the other women in line, and while some were crying quietly, none looked at Artimus or said a word. She wiped the tears away and turned her defiant gaze to Artimus, wanting him to know that she wouldn’t be broken by him—or anyone.

“If you cannot find more suitable specimens, then you will suffer the same fate as Veronica. I will not allow
anyone
to soil our bloodlines with weakness and failure.”

The room hummed with silence and thickening, nervous energy waves. Artimus used fear and intimidation the same way dictators and tyrants in human history had. Fear was a powerful tool for men like Artimus.