The Salvatore Saga. Volume one

12.

I woke up to when someone was feeling me up. I remained still because this was not one of the researchers. I heard Adam's voice or actually smelled him. The pear and the other men smelled of citron and lime. I listened to the men's voices talking about my condition and what they were supposed to do to me. How troublesome I would be. I held myself still and didn't react in any way when one of the men groped me through even though I knew I had stitches and wounds and felt the pain but didn't let it show.

The men then moved a little further away to talk and put extra blankets over me. Well, I wasn't cold, and I was being a cool loving person so I had to control myself not to snatch the blankets off me right away. They felt suffocating and heavy.

I worked quietly and efficiently, and all the cannulas and drip tubes were gone in less than a minute. I was able to keep my movements small and unobtrusive. Or so I assumed. I noticed I wasn't tied up.

"This is your funeral." I thought gloomily.

I felt my rage rise to the surface and help me get this damn drug out of my head. My head was aching and dizzy, I was mildly nauseous, and I could smell the food, but I wasn't hungry, not at all. I knew I should eat because I had lost a lot of weight. I remembered bits and pieces of some procedure, and I had the idea that I had to be made weak in some way in some way for something to work properly. But my memories and recollections were fuzzy at best.

The men sat on the sofa, chatting quietly after finally leaving Mimi to sleep. Bran looked at Samuel, who was clearly in his thoughts, and knew that although Samuel was a doctor, a healer, that was not all that Samuel was. Sometimes, he wanted to be a killer, not a healer, and it could well be that if Mimi was treated in the same way, it might get Samuel's killer instincts to surface too, but now he had no access to the power of Marrok which he could have used to restrain Samuel with ease.

Adam said: " She's awake, and she's already disconnected all the hoses. She thinks she's being sneaky. She's a quick one, I'll give her that, and she's got her temper on. "

Adam's voice came closer. "You might as well open your eyes and come in here and have something to eat."
"All right. I'm awake then. Where did you see that?" I muttered and crawled up.

Fucking stitches. I considered ripping them off for a moment, but they were in a place I had a hunch I might regret afterward. They stung and pinched nastily, but I let them do their job for now. For some reason, my wounds healed quickly, quicker than they should have, but then again, I had been rejuvenated by whichever serum, so I had begun to learn to accept everything and not wonder too much.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a while and then carefully got up; not dizzy, excellent. The nausea had gone, too, which meant the rage was doing its job. I was wearing only a patient gown. This wasn't a backless gown; it was a dress of some sort. I walked over to the table to sit down and looked at each man.

I said, "I'm Mimi Springcove; nice to meet you, and I see I've got you in more trouble than when you tried to save me. "

Adam was awake and was an even more stunning revelation. He was imposing, strong, and very handsome. I thought that if a man looked like that and spoke to me under other circumstances, I would probably be red as a crab.

Adam said, " Don't blame yourself; you're the victim here, not the culprit; this was our fault, too."
Next to Adam was a blond surfer guy, not quite looking like Chris Brown, the vet, but close.

But I somehow thought the surfer outfit was just a disguise. This surfer gave me a sense of danger, a different kind of danger than Adam, a sense that this one could do pretty much whatever he wanted and not regret it. And somehow, this one wasn't as young as he looked. He didn't look so harmless, either.