questioning. “General Flynn? I’m sorry, I’m not aware of anyone with that name registered as a guest here at the center.” Her fingers flew over the keys again. “But let me check for you.” She paused a moment and then shook her head. “No-no one by that name here at the center.”
Ryan shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”
She nodded. “Yes, it would appear so.” She waited. “Was there anything else I could do for you, Doctor?”
“No, that’s all. Thank you.”
He turned and walked through the steel door leading to the offices. His nerve endings tingled. Flynn was in the building. And if Flynn was in the center, then so was Tess.
Chapter Eight
Groggy, Tess tried to roll up on her side, but she found herself pinned and unable to move more than a fraction of an inch in either direction. Something tight and incredibly uncomfortable held her flat on her back.
She opened her eyes and the light hit her eyes like a laser. A sharp zing of pain ripped directly to the center of her skull. It was like having someone tear her brain in two.
She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned softly. Even the sound of her own voice was painful. She tugged at her wrists, but there was no budging them. She tried moving her feet. No luck. They were secured, too.
She lay still, panting slightly as she attempted to push away the confusion and pain pressing down on her. It was like trying to slog through a sea of warm, sticky molasses.
Lifting her head, she opened her eyes a crack and stared down at her body. Damn, they’d secured her to the bed again.
Leather straps, padded with white fleece, were buckled around all four of her extremities, drawn so tight that her skin was raw and reddened. But it was the strap across the middle of her chest that kept her from moving in either direction very far. It would also keep her from bending down to use her teeth to unbuckle the restraints.
She rolled her head on the lumpy mattress. No pillow and no hair clip. They weren’t taking any chances. She lifted her head and glanced in the direction of the camera overhead. The red light below the lens winked at her.
She dropped her head back down and closed her eyes against the relentless glare of the overhead lights. They never turned the lights off and they were usually accompanied by a droning voice. A voice loud enough to keep her awake but incoherent enough so that she wasn’t sure what was being said. It was all done to keep her off balance, teetering on the edge.
But today the loudspeaker was unusually silent. Nothing, not even the smallest, most inconsequential sound penetrated the heavy steel walls of her padded cell.
Tess shifted her position on the cot and wiggled her toes, trying to get the circulation going. Her captors also kept her off balance by varying the room temperature. They were currently on a cold kick. Not cold enough to make her shiver, but cool enough so that she was uncomfortable.
As she contemplated her predicament, the steel door buzzed and someone stepped inside. The doctor, the one Ryan had called Bloom, walked over to stand next to her. Following close on his heels was the woman who administered most of the medication they’d been shooting into her system.
Tess’s stomach clenched at their appearance, but she kept it from showing on her face. She refused to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing the dread that washed over her at the sight of them.
“And how are we feeling today, Tess?” Bloom asked, his smooth, melodious voice immediately tying her stomach in a knot.
“I don’t know how
Bloom smiled benignly. “You’ll feel right as rain soon.”
“Of course I will. You’ll just shoot me full of more of your bug juice and I won’t care how I feel, right?”
“Medication, my dear, medication,” Bloom corrected. “You’re sick. We’re simply helping you recover.”
“I’m not sick.” Tess frowned. “I just have trouble remembering things.”
Bloom smiled indulgently. “Exactly, and that’s why I’m here. To help you regain your memory.”
“I’m not an idiot, Bloom,” Tess said. “You and your drones are more interested in pulling the wings off butterflies than you are in helping me.”
Bloom’s smile turned amused. His assistant’s face, a Nurse Ratchet wannabe, remained impassive.
“Are you feeling like a butterfly today, Tess?”
“I’ll tell you how I feel. I feel like getting up off this table and squeezing your scrawny pencil neck.” Tess knew what she was saying was nothing more than reckless bravado, but it was all she had left in her arsenal right now. And somehow she knew that she needed to keep herself pumped up. Angry. She couldn’t lie back and surrender. Anger gave her an edge and seemed to keep her mind sharper.
Bloom seemed amused. “My little soldier. You make me proud.” He reached down and tugged on the strap on her right wrist. Pain shot up her arm.
Tess struggled to wrap her mind around what he said. Soldier? He’d called her a soldier. Why?
“Just let me up and I’ll show you proud,” Tess said, forcing the words out from between stiff lips.
Bloom reached out and patted her cheek, his fingers cold and impersonal. “Such harsh threats. You really should work on that temper of yours.” He laughed. “But first you have a job to do.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the nurse behind him and held out a hand. “The syringe please.”
Tess tried another tack. “Is Dr. Donovan okay?”
“You took a liking to my young assistant, didn’t you?” Bloom paused and regarded her for a moment. “I’m not surprised. Women have always been drawn to Ryan. His looks, his quick intellect. You wouldn’t be immune to it, either. I knew that.”
Her muscles tensed. He knew that? What did that mean?
“I liked his honesty. The fact that he stood up to you and Flynn. I like that he saw through your lies.”
Bloom’s amusement was obvious. “Honesty? Now that’s rich. Ryan does exactly what I tell him to do. No more. No less.”
Dread squeezed Tess’s heart. What was Bloom saying? Had Ryan been sent to string her along? Had it all been an act? She squeezed her eyes shut, battling the thick wave of despair that threatened to engulf her. She should have known.
She opened her eyes and dully watched Bloom swipe an alcohol swab across the rubber stopper on her IV and then slide the needle through. The ice-blue liquid slid through the barrel into the plastic tubing, and a familiar light- headedness flooded Tess’s brain.
She fought the sensation, concentrating hard to keep her head above the dark waters lurking below consciousness. But she lost the battle even faster than last time. The drug was grabbing hold of her with the strength and viciousness of a wild beast. Either they had upped her dose or her body was metabolizing it at a faster pace, lapping it up like a favored treat. Her grip slipped and she was again sucked beneath the cold surface of unconsciousness.
Her last thought as she slid under the dark, oily barrier was of Ryan Donovan. The chiseled angles of his face and the sharp intelligence of his eyes. His damned expression of compassion. But now she knew it was a lie. A total put-on.
The vision pulled at her, and for a moment, Tess felt as though he were trying to speak to her. Trying to placate her with a whispered promise of watching out for her and seeing that she came to no harm.
She fought the pull as her emotions betrayed her and tears prickled at the back of her lids. Several tears slipped from the corner of her eyes and the feel of betrayal was hot on her cheeks. Damn him! He’d lied to her. He’d been with them all along.
SEVERAL FLOORS UP, Ryan paced his office. He had no idea where they had stashed Tess, but he knew, without really knowing how, that she was somewhere inside the center. It wasn’t just the fact that the limo was parked outside Bloom’s private entrance. It was as if his body knew she was here and it was screaming the information to him, every nerve ending jumping and surging with energy.
