Beside him, Crow was staring at me with a look of pity. He was breathing heavily, as if in anger, and watched me with a hard stare while one of his crows was perched on his shoulder, pecking and cawing in distress.
“Differently?” I asked while turning my attention to Lowell.
Were they going to make me feed in front of everyone?
The thought made my anxiety spike.
“When you fed from participant three-four-two, you made him immortal. We’ve tested extensively and concluded that he cannot die thus far, through every means we’ve tested. He continuously regenerates.”
I already knew this because of Crow, but hearing it still shocked me. As a supe, we lived long lives, perpetually young and strong, but we could still get hurt. We could still die if our attacker was dedicated enough.
I clasped my chest, staring at Tomb with apology in my expression. I hated the idea of him suffering to test more of Spector’s theories, all because of me and what I’d done to him. This beautiful, strong man had wanted to be done with life, and instead, I’d made him unable to die.
“So? What does that have to do with my feeding today?” I snapped, though I had a sinking suspicion I already knew.
“We are going to prove that this deathless phenomenon you’ve infused into the gargoyle can occur in other hybrids when you feed off them.”
My stomach dropped.
Lowell motioned behind him to the gathered hybrids. “Byron Wills has volunteered to go first. He mentioned that you were partners in the past. Perhaps having an emotional connection will help with the indestructible connection.”
Byron stepped forward, drawing my eye to him. He wore a smug grin and had his arms crossed over his chest. My fists curled at my sides. I had an emotional connection, alright. I wanted to murder him in his sleep.
“I don’t think it works that way,” I argued as Byron was led forward and hooked up with some various wires at his neck, heart, and temple.
“We’re going to test it regardless, Motley,” Lowell replied, like my inhibitions were irrelevant.
I didn’t want to sleep with Byron, especially since he was so cruel to me, and I definitely didn’t want to do this in front of all my peers. But I was hungry. I could feel my spider within me unfurl with an intense desire to feed.
“His dick isn’t going anywhere near me,” I protested.
“Oh come on, Motley, you weren’t saying that last time,” Byron joked, making all of his friends laugh.
I could feel my spider hissing, demanding retribution. Protective energy was like a vice wrapped around my neck. She wanted to give this guy what he deserved. She wanted to end his life and feed.
“I’m not fucking him,” I croaked once more to Lowell, who was writing on his notepad, nodding his head but not really listening to me.
“So long as you’re feeding off his essence, the means don’t matter,” he said distractedly.
The means don’t matter. This motherfucker.
I looked around warily. “I don’t want to do this with an audience.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
I bristled. I never had a fucking choice when it came to Spector. It was one thing to feed with an audience of Spector scientists and guards. That felt clinical and controlled, but at least they were strangers. Doing this in front of Tomb and Crow...it felt like a betrayal somehow, and both shame and anxiousness filled me.
“I can’t do this,” I argued desperately. “Please don’t make me do this.” Begging anyone from Spector left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I’d rather lose my pride than be touched by Byron in front of the guys and the others.
“The other hybrids are here for you to feed on as well, if all goes well with Byron.”
Realization clicked into place, and my mouth dropped open. “You want to see if I can make all the hybrids resurrected and indestructible?”
He didn’t answer, but I could see the truth in his pursed lips. That was exactly what they wanted. Nausea somersaulted through my gut. I shook my head, backing up a step, only to collide with a guard right behind me. The man’s hand came down hard on my shoulder, holding me in place. My fingers twitched to send webs flying. I could have him hanging by his neck in a second, but I held back.
“You can’t make me fuck and feed off of everyone!” I yelled to the scientist, ignoring the guard’s tightening grip.
The man finally looked up from his tablet and gave me a patronizing smile. “On the contrary, Miss Coven. We can do whatever we want. You belong to us. The moment you signed your name to Spector, you lost your rights of choice. We made you, and we’ll use you as we see fit,” he said, his tone emotionless. “Now approach the subject and begin your feeding process.”
“Or what?” I challenged. “You’ll stick me back in the tank? I think I’d rather go there.”
He laughed at me. “No, of course not.” Turning to look at one of the guards across the room, he said, “Let’s give her an example of what will happen should she refuse to follow instructions.”
Lowell produced a gold token from his pocket and tossed it in the air. I watched as the light shimmered off of it, and my spider recoiled within me. “What is that?” I asked, sensing a change in the demeanor of the room. Behind Lowell, a few of the demon hybrids flinched in fear.
“This is an ancient relic,” he said casually before rubbing his thumb along it. “It was created centuries ago, intended to ward off demons. The wealthy would purchase them from saints and keep them in their pockets. We learned how to produce more of them.”
Lowell started making his way toward a smaller girl I recognized from school. She was
