Chapter Forty-Nine:
Luke had no recall of when the pain became only numbness, since he was long beyond feeling it to the degree he had when they'd begun. All he knew was that he was waterlogged from their current test: how long could he hold his breath under water? And after taking only a minimal breath when they brought him up briefly for air?
Because, since he was a wolf, it had to be different from human results… right?
Luke knew that the doctor wasn't really testing the wolf so much as deriving some sort of mad gratification from the ghastly treatment of his victims.
Luke struggled weakly as they held his face in the barrel of water; the two guards having come back in to hold him while out of his chair. Panic had ceased to set in as well, and he merely wished for the day to end so he could rest.
He was tired… so very tired. And every time he felt the darkness finally come for him, they woke him back up.
At long last Luke went limp in the men's' grasp, and he heard the garbled orders of the doctor. Seconds passed, and then Luke was hauled up.
His lungs froze from the sudden relief, needing a reminder on how to operate.
"Administer the air." Heresha ordered.
A mask was placed over Luke's face, and suddenly his lungs were filled with sweet fulfilling air. Luke gasped mightily; drawing in great gulps of air like a starving man would devour a piece of bread.
He trembled uncontrollably from head to toe, and his heavy eyelids refused to lift enough for him to see much of anything. He felt rough fingers grab his chin, and then a light was shone into his eyes as a thumb lifted his eyelids.
"Hm." Heresha grumbled. "That will be all for today. Put his collar on and take him back to his cell."
Relief flooded Luke, and he tried not to let it show for fear the doctor would change his mind.
He'd already done so three times before.
Unable to fight from his long session with the doctor, Luke provided no resistance as the men dragged him into his room and then threw him roughly against the wall. Too tired to care, Luke simply lay as he'd landed and instantly fell into a deep sleep.
00000
Jena held the small tray aloft, the contents covered to both keep the dish warm, and to hide the other tools she hoped to smuggle inside the facility tonight. She wore a specific dress that showed off her figure nicely, a distraction she knew the men of Sar and Xel's posse tried to hide their enjoyment of.
She did not hesitate when she arrived at the facility, and she walked right up to Dr. Heresha's office. She knocked once, and then entered.
"Ah, Jena," Heresha greeted warmly as he looked up from his work. "How nice to see you again."
Jena fought hard to keep her face neutral: she despised this man after all. "I am sorry if my timing is inconvenient, Doctor."
"Not at all." Heresha sniffed appreciatively at the air. "I do say, what is that you've brought my dear? It smells divine."
Knowing Heresha would not dare to question the wishes of the man who kept him in business, Jena was not afraid to use Sar's position to her own advantage when necessary.
"I made soup." Jena plastered a smile on her face. "I don't know if Sar told you, but he asked us to help you keep the new patient in good condition so we can get the most use from him." Jena removed one cloth from the carefully wrapped tray. "He also said we should take good care of the medical staff. So I brought you a bowl of soup too. And in the late morning, we will bring muffins for the medical staff and the other personnel."
"How very thoughtful of you all," Heresha replied as he accepted the warm dish. "I am famished. Seira can take the soup down for you."
When the woman appeared, Jena withheld the tray. "Actually, Doctor, I was rather hoping to see the beast that dared to challenge my brother. Ash and I were unable to attend the festivities due to sick children." She allowed her eyes to go rock-hard. "I wish to give him a piece of my mind, and let him know that when he tries to take out one of us, he will face all of us."
That lifted the man's eyebrows.
"Indeed." He looked thoughtful but, as Jena had predicted, he did not question Sar's 'wishes'. "Very well, then. Seira will take you down, and be sure to keep the collar's remote with you, in case he tries to come after you."
Jena balked, but turned it to her advantage when the other two adults looked at her oddly.
"Let him try!" she gritted.
Heresha smiled his evil little smile. "I can see why Sar speaks so highly of his sister. You have quite a bit of fire in you."
With that he waved at Seira, who gestured in turn for Jena to follow.
"Any chance of a third bowl of soup, Jena?" Seira asked. "It does smell delicious, and I haven't had a break in some time."
"I am sorry Seira, but I didn't bring enough," Jena said apologetically.
"Ah, that's okay," Seira waved her apology away. "I'd ask for a taste of the beast's, but I don't want to eat dog food."
Jena snorted. "I wouldn't want that either, but the creature must eat if we are to keep him for any length of time… and I refuse to make slop in my kitchen."
Seira flashed a knowing smile. "You and Ash are known for your cooking. Mmm… I cannot wait to taste your muffins!"
"Well, I promise you can have the first one in the morning," Jena responded.
They finally arrived at the room, which was guarded by one thick-set man reading a book in a chair.
Seira pulled out a small remote. "Here, take this. If he tries anything, use it to shock him."
"How long has he been in the room?" Jena asked.
"A few hours now, since the doctor finished for the day." Seira replied nonchalantly. "When you are ready to leave knock three times and Ruche here will let you back out."
"Got it." Jena nodded to the man, who tipped his hat in reply.
"Be careful, Jena, he's been giving us trouble every time we try moving him." Ruche warned.
"I will." Jena promised.
Seira unlocked the door and opened it, allowing Jena inside. She didn't see the man at first, but when she looked back at the latching door, she spotted him. The poor soul was lying like a child's doll in the corner just beside the door, fast asleep… or so it looked.
Jena took a moment to study him from afar before she approached.
He was no doubt handsome when he didn't look like a man who'd been through the ringer, which of course he had. His sandy-blonde hair was soaked and clumped, though whether it was from sweat or water, she didn't know. There were cuts and bruises all over him, and in some places there were stitches, indicating that whatever they'd done in those areas had clearly been more than skin-deep.
He shivered, she saw, and Jena cursed Heresha for keeping the cell so cold. Her heart went out to this man; this innocent person who'd done nothing against her people.
And what of his wife?
Jena highly doubted that anyone had cared to fill him in on what was to become of his woman, which had to be eating away at him.
Then a thought occurred to her: Sar may have indeed told him in an effort to gloat, and cause the man before her a greater torment than any physical act against him could. Jena shook her head angrily.
Damn you Sar.
Blinking out of her reverie, Jena set the tray down and cautiously approached the man. To her surprise, his eyes sprang open at the slight sound of her feet moving. Jena was momentarily stunned by the beautiful blue gaze that met her own.
And then his pain returned along with consciousness, and Jena shook herself again.
"Do not be afraid," she soothed as he struggled to back away.
Jena saw him pause, his gaze seeming to penetrate into her very soul. She shrugged off any discomfort, and knelt before him. When she caught sight of the afore-mentioned collar, she lifted her lip in distaste, and tossed the remote away.
Something the man did not miss.
"I am not here to harm you, I promise," she continued. "My name is Jena."
He frowned just a little, but otherwise said nothing. Not knowing how to break the ice further between them, Jena turned to retrieve her tray. She felt his gaze track her, which made her slightly uncomfortable, yet she knew she couldn't blame him after his ordeal today.
"I brought a bowl of soup for you, as well as a wash cloth and water." Jena told him as she uncovered the second part of the tray that hid her smuggled goods.
She wasn't sure how Heresha would've reacted to knowing she intended to give the man a bath as an act of kindness, and so she'd hidden it among the food of the tray she'd brought.
Jena dipped the cloth in the warm water and wrung it out. She reached out to begin the process when she paused, her hand poised above the cut on his left eye.
"Do you mind?" she asked.
He studied her for a moment, and then gingerly shook his head. With a gentle smile, Jena started to carefully dab at the blood on his face. She worked slowly but surely, trying not to aggravate anything.
"Thank you," he murmured, taking Jena by surprise.
His voice was kind, yet so sad: it made her heart clench with sympathy for him.
"Oh, you poor man," Jena murmured as she worked, moving from one of the many patches of blood to the next. "I am sorry you had to be subjected to the worst of our community."
He again looked to her, and surprise lit his gaze.
"I do hope you do not judge the entire population of our town by the actions of a few." Jena went on. "We really are a good people. But you must know where their fear comes from."
"I understand." His voice was rough, but comprehensible. "They fear the wolf."
"Yes, they do," Jena allowed. "But to fully recognize why you specifically are in here, you must know our history."
That garnered a lifted brow, even though the action tugged painfully at his wounds and he winced. Jena finished his sponge bath, and then put her arms carefully around him.
"Let's see if we can't get you to sit up." She helped him into the corner, where he leaned against the walls for support. "That's better. Can you feed yourself?"
He looked at his hands, lifting them to his face, and grimaced. "I think so."
Jena, who hadn't really paid much attention to his chest when she'd bathed him since he'd been hunched over, gasped when she spotted the brand on his chest.
"Did Heresha do that?" she exclaimed.
He followed her gaze and then nodded, swallowing hard at the remembered pain.
"Damn him!" Jena ground out angrily. "Damn him to hell!"
The man in the corner cocked his head curiously, obviously trying to figure her out.
"Who are you?" he asked. "And not that I am complaining… but why are you being so nice to me when everyone else hates me?"
Jena looked away guiltily. "I will explain all, but you must promise not to judge until you hear the entire tale."
When she glanced back his way he was nodding, clearly intrigued. "I promise."
"Very well." Jena took a deep breath, and handed him his soup. He took it carefully, but his hands shook too much to hold it steady and he ended up sloshing it on his arms.
"Sorry." He said as he tried to control his limbs.
"Why are you apologizing?" she chastised lightly. "You didn't ask for any of this."
Jena took the dish from him and began to stir it, before offering him a spoonful. She wondered if his male pride would get in the way, but to her surprise, he didn't object.
"Anyway: I am here because I want to help you," Jena began. "But I need your assistance in return."
"My help?" he asked.
"Yes." Jena looked him straight in the eye. "I need you to take out my brother."
