Chapter Twelve: Headfirst Into Danger

[Lance's POV:]

Most socialites of my status have some private form of transportation. A private limosine, a private yacht…I've even known one who owns a bullet train. I myself have a private jet I can call upon when the occasion requires. Thankfully, such occurrences are genuinely rare, for which I am grateful.

I hate planes.

They're too confined, too dangerous, and I'm constantly on edge whenever I ride in one, whether or not it shows. Something about the fact that the jet leaves the ground is highly unsettling, and I cannot even step into my own without immediately feeling caged and heading for danger. Perchance my feelings are a result of my lycanthropy, yet I cannot help but wonder if perhaps I would have always been like this. Such had always been my mindset.

However, once Eva had been loaded into the jet, I began to suspect my theory was true. She also seemed nervous and cagey, more so than I believe I have ever felt, and she sank into one of the seats as though she would never release her hold on the upholstery. Even Robert appeared more irritable than one would expect, but the vast majority of such behavior on his part could largely be attributed to his dwindling supply of plasma pills and lack of iron. No, the only person who entered the jet in a complete state of calm was dear Gerard, steadfast as ever.

"I don't see how you can stand riding in this thing." Eva muttered, digging her nails into the cushions of her seat.

"I can't." said I.

"It's like being trapped in a soda can," she exhaled, "A soda can that just hangs in the air after you throw the stupid thing."

"You know what soda is?" Robert muttered dryly, and she shot him a sharp glare.

"Ignore him please, Miss Eva." I sighed. "Robert's low on iron, and his plasma pills need to be redosed and restocked."

"Plasma pills?" she said incredulously, looking between Robert and myself, prompting him to display his fangs.

"Don't leave home without 'em." he said with a mirthless laugh.

"You're a vampire?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, "Huh. No wonder Lance is such a lycan newbie, if he hangs out with you all the time. Can't say I've ever met a vampire before; heard of 'em, though."

"I wasn't born a vampire," he protested stubbornly. "I was Turned a while back; I've known Lance since way before then."

"He is naturally this uncouth, though." I threw in calmly as we started to take off.

"Cute," he grumbled at me, "You grew a sense of humor at last."

"Balls."

Eva jerked her head around at once, her expression becoming that of utmost shock.

"Did you just s—"

"Yes, he did!" Robert began to snicker, hugging his sides to keep from laughing too hard. "And I didn't even have to prompt him this time!"

I merely rolled my eyes, wishing I could spit the taste of vulgarity from my lips.

"That you should prompt him at all is distasteful," Gerard remarked from his seat close to the jet's cockpit, never once glancing up from his palm pilot. I had to smile at that; at least my head of operations remained ever on my side.

"What's this Dorian guy's game, anyway?" Eva asked suddenly, redirecting my attention immediately, "You're going because Checkers here needs to be looked at. Why drag me along? What does he want with me?"

I frowned. "You don't remember Dorian's terms before he gave you the antidote for the silver poisoning?"

"Barely." she answered with a wince.

"He wants you to come back as well, on the grounds of having to whip up a particular sample of antidote designed to treat you."

"Great…" she mumbled.

From then on the rest of the flight passed largely in silence, permeated only by the occasional fussing of Gerard going through his normal routine. At one point, Eva spoke up, approaching a subject I'd nearly forgotten about that same evening we found her.

"Look, Mr. Pendragon, I know I might be prying again, but if I'm going to trust you completely, you've got to tell me your story. If I remember anything about the other night, I remember that you and the doctor both saying you're 'an unusual case' as far as lycans go." She stated, giving me a firm look that had me feeling quite as though she wouldn't step foot out of the plane before hearing my story. I sighed, hanging my head.

"Are you kidding me?" Rook blurted out from his seat next to me. "You can't just ask him that!"
"No, Robert," I said quietly, "She has a right to know."

I looked up at her again, meeting her eyes and locking stares.

"I am among a few who make up the last remnants of an abandoned, private project that was going to be sold for a profit to the military. Hundreds of scientists, the best in their fields, were all hired to work on this endeavor and hold their tongues. They were being paid to genetically engineer cross-breed soldiers: half-human, half-animal. The cunning of human intellect and the hunting instincts of predators. They took several people. Adults, adolescents, and primarily, children. They needed to test a range of different ages to see which would adapt easiest to the forced change."

I cast my eyes down to the floor of the jet, growing lost in unwanted memories.

"Dorian was one of the most brilliant minds on the project, and I was his personal assignment. My father had wanted both my younger half-sister and I to be changed, for our own personal protection against some enemy he had made, but my sister was spared, at least initially. I was willing, on the other hand, and so I was brought to their laboratories. Dorian became my world, as did his own separate work: an anthropomorphic panther cub he called Tygrus. Since I was no longer with my own sibling and parent, they became my family.

"It would be years later before I finally saw Dorian for what he truly is: a manipulative monster with a god complex. Tygrus has always been wrapped around his finger, and in my younger years, so was I. To a degree, I still am."

Silence had fallen in our small space, and I looked up once again to find all eyes on me as I spoke, even Gerard's. There was a look of deep concern and pity on Eva's face and she flattened her ears against her head in apology.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly. "I didn't think it would be anything that bad."

"Forgiven," I replied, "For now you know."

And that impenetrable silence fell once more, until we heard the pilot announcing our landing. The jet glided down smoothly, and came down on a hidden stretch of smooth ground, where it slowed to a gentle stop.

"We're here." I said grimly, unbuckling myself and getting to my feet.

"Here," Eva parroted, "And where exactly is 'here?'"

"Dorian's private island." Rook supplied.

"The guy owns a private island?"

"The reasons behind which thou art better off remaining ignorant of." I added.

Once outside, everything appeared as it normally did; heavily forested area with numerous exotic plants and wildlife sounds. Ideally, almost the perfect place for a tropic visit upon first glance. But a dreadful sensation prickled beneath my shoulder blades, in my lower spine, on the back of my neck, and I knew something was wrong.

"Do either of you sense anything…unusual?" I asked.

"I smell cats. A lot of cats," Eva spat, "And something ugly."

"I feel like I'm being watched by something ugly." Rook answered.

At once there was a sudden cry from inside the jet, followed by coughing and the subtle thumps of bodies hitting a floor that normal human ears would have been unable to detect. I spun at once, terrified.

"Gerard?" I called vainly, knowing no answer would come.

"Sleeping," said an all-to-familiar hypnotic voice nearby, "I won't have any interference from that nosy secretary of yours, Lancelot dear boy."

I glanced over my shoulder, glaring at the smiling face that came walking up to me from between the trees.

"Dorian," I growled.

"My young friends," he addressed us calmly with an unsettling smile, "I was expecting you much sooner. Still, better late than never. Come, let us play god."