Marco opened the door to the back room, and Logan felt an unexpected pang of guilt for finding the girl’s scent so attractive, even tainted with panic and sick anxiety and what must have been at least a few days without a shower.
He could see the tensing of her muscles, the slight tilt of her head to follow their movements as they came into the room, but she didn’t make a noise aside from the raspy breaths that escaped around the edges of the gag.
Logan saw now all the details he had missed on the live video feed. Her hair was a dark auburn, streaked not with blond as he had assumed from the black-and-white image but with pure platinum white. The dusky purple shadow of a handprint darkened her cheek, smudges from the fingers and thumb and the crease of a palm over her cheekbone. Logan automatically aged the bruise, figuring the videotape had been taken two days ago at the most -- no hint of blue or green edged the marks.
The girl herself was older than he had thought. Her delicate frame and wide eyes on video had made him think she was a teenager, but now his expert gaze judged the maturity of young adulthood in the lack of baby fat in her cheeks, the ripe swell of her breast, the soft warmth of her scent underneath the fear.
She turned her head to follow the sound of his footsteps, the motion revealing a slim metal collar around her neck, mostly hidden by the tumble of hair. He snapped his head around to look at Marco.
“Suppression?” he asked, unable to completely hide his surprise. Old school had its limits, he supposed. He had heard rumors of suppression tech, but until now he had thought it was just an urban legend.
Marco reached out, sliding his fingertips over the skin of the girl’s neck, as she made an indeterminate noise -- disgust or fear or anger, Logan couldn’t tell. Marco let his touch linger long enough to demonstrate that the tech worked before he drew away with a smug smile, pulling an electronic remote from his pocket.
“The collar’ll cost you another fifty grand. But worth every penny, especially for one like her. If you want to try her without it, you wait until after the transfer. Not our problem if you kill yourself then.”
Logan imagined Hank’s hands twitching to get ahold of suppression tech. Worth every penny, indeed. These guys might be bush league middlemen, but whoever was supplying them with their product was in another category altogether.
“I need to make sure she’s undamaged. And hear it from her, what she can do, as confirmation.”
Marco drew back a step. “Be my guest.”
“Alone.” Logan’s voice was cutting, brooking no argument. He let just a little of his rage flash in his eyes, taking a cold satisfaction in the slight paling of Marco’s skin as the smug smile slid off his face.
Marco hesitated, but a look back to the still-open suitcase in the other room seemed to put him in a more accommodating mood. “Ten minutes. You break it, you bought it. We’ll be watching.”
Logan nodded curtly and Marco left, closing the door behind him. Logan listened intently, but there was no telltale whine of a microphone. Video only, and this room was soundproofed -- even with his keen senses he could barely hear the men in the other room. He brushed aside the chilling thought of why these guys would need a soundproofed room.
Ten minutes. He hoped the girl wasn’t hysterical, ten minutes of distraught sobbing would get them nowhere. He pulled off the blindfold, and was startled to find deep brown, furious eyes staring him down. Fuck. Far from hysterical, but maybe even more of a problem.
_________________
Marie heard the door open. The scuff of footsteps sounded on the creaky wood floors, making the tension between her already aching shoulders draw even tighter, the cuffs biting further into the raw skin of her wrists above her gloves. She drew in frantic gasps around the gag, the ever-present terror of throwing up spiking higher as she felt the rough cotton sucked deeper into her mouth.
She heard a new voice, deep and rumbling. “Suppression?” it asked.
She hadn’t realized they were so close, and so the cold fingers on her neck caught her by surprise, the startled curse stopped up in her throat by the gag. The sickening smell of peppermint on his skin gave away his identity before he spoke, and her stomach roiled as he bragged about his stupid collar.
“I need to make sure she’s undamaged. And hear it from her, what she can do, as confirmation.” That deep, rumbling voice again. Undamaged? Her heart clenched at the thought of what he might mean.
Marie had no illusions, she knew she was being sold, the peppermint-scented man -- apparently prohibited from actually hurting her -- had settled for tormenting her by telling her in gleeful detail all the scenarios that might be in store for her. She felt a wave of lightheadedness wash over her, her skin prickling with a cold sweat. Don’t panic, goddammit, she told herself. Maybe the guy buying her would be fat, and slow, she told herself, trying to keep the mindless fear from taking over. Maybe if she caught him off guard she could just...
She heard them agree on ten minutes alone. “You break it, you bought it.” Fucking bastards, haggling about her like she was a second-hand car. She had never used her mutation deliberately -- had taken extreme measures to avoid even the accidental touches she had suffered -- but now she fervently wished this collar gone. She didn’t care how much it would hurt her, she thought spitefully. She would drain them both dry without a second thought and spit out their husks.
That bracing thought was fresh in her mind as she felt the blindfold being removed, squinting against the sudden brightness. Her eyes adjusted, and she found herself looking into a keen pair of amber-hazel eyes. She tried to keep her anger up as a shield against the creeping panic, but her heart sank as she took in the rest of him -- the intent gaze in a rugged face, the broad chest and massive arms. His whole body radiated a brutal competency. There would be no catching this man off guard. There would be no outrunning him.
She closed her eyes against the dismal thoughts, and so his incongruently gentle tone of voice caught her even more by surprise.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, kid.”
Her eyes flew open. The man was crouched in front of her now, his voice pitched so low she had to strain to hear it over the sound of her own labored breathing and racing heart.
“You heard what he said, right? We have ten minutes. They can see us, but they can’t hear us. I’m going to take your gag off, but I need you to listen to me first, okay?”
She could feel her eyes narrowing in suspicion, but she gave a curt nod. Not like she had any choice, anyway, but she would agree to most anything to get this gag off.
“We’re going to put on a little show for the camera, okay? I’m gonna pretend that I’m looking you over for injuries, and that you’re telling me about your mutation. Keep looking scared -- “ he stopped, and his lips quirked “-- or angry, or whatever, but answer my questions as quick as you can and I’ll get us both out of here, okay?”
She nodded again, and felt with relief his fingers deftly working at the knot of the gag. He pulled it free and she gasped in a deep shuddering breath, the nausea mercifully fading to a manageable level, the lightheadedness easing. “What...” she started, and then stopped, drawing in a pained breath as his fingertips ran over her throbbing cheekbone.
“Fractured, maybe, but it’ll heal. Just listen, and answer my questions,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “How long have they had you?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. Her own voice was rusty from disuse, and she cleared her throat, the taste of cotton still bitter on her tongue. “I was drugged at first, until they got the collar on me. A week maybe? I...” her throat froze up with shock as he ran his hands down her neck and over her arms, pushing up the open cuffs of her shirt and running his fingers over the skin of her forearms down to the stained gloves before testing the grip of the metal handcuffs. He must have felt her stiffen up.
“I told ya kid, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, a bitter cynical edge to his voice now. She could only stare at him, unable to find the words to explain that surprise at how fearlessly he touched her skin had made her body tense up, not apprehension. Still, his hands were gentle as they ran over her ribs, pressing gently, finding the sore spots with care, mapping her injuries with his fingertips.
“Did you see any others? Were you held with any other girls?” he asked, running his hands down her legs, rotating her ankles. He pulled on the foot of her tights to cover up her exposed toe, and the unexpected kindness of the gesture almost broke her. She felt the tears burning at the bridge of her nose, and concentrated on his questions to keep them at bay.
“No.” Her voice was wobbly, and she cleared her throat again. “Different men, before these ones. But no other girls with me.” She saw something bleak shadow his eyes, and a flash of realization sent hope surging within her. “You’re looking for someone.” He wasn’t a real buyer. Please God, let him not be a real buyer. Was he a cop? Was she really going to be saved?
He nodded. A new rough edge of tension was in his voice. “Two girls, taken together, four days ago. One Asian. One Caucasian, with short brown hair. Both mutants. Did they ever talk about other girls? Did you overhear anything about where they might be?”
She shook her head again, and felt a spike of pity as his jaw clenched in frustration. “I’m sorry,” she felt compelled to add, but he shook off her lame apology brusquely.
“Anything you can remember about where you’ve been? Anything at all?”
“There was a boat...three days ago. Big waves, like the ocean, not a river. And...ow! Goddammit! You sonuvabitch!”
He had suddenly wrenched her head back by the hair, his eyes growing cold, and she kicked out at him, fury and despair sending her almost into a frenzy. He had lied, he said he wouldn’t hurt her and he lied, she had thought she was saved and he lied...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well, hello again! I've been on one hell of a writing streak, and am just now starting chapter five. Yes, count 'em, five chapters in one day. So, in my completely pathological inability to hold out on you guys, here is Chapter Two. Please reward my compulsive posting by reviewing each chapter, even if you're reading them both at once. ;-)
Chapter End Notes:
Please review! :-D