Page 194 of Breaking Rosalind

If that’s an antidote, it’s not working because I’m still hallucinating. My limbs jerk, making me realize he’s only reversed the muscle relaxant.

“Good girl,” he croons, his fingers skimming my collarbones before tracing the hollow of my throat. “We’re going to get along just fine with the experiments.”

I blink once, twice, three times to clear my vision, but it’s still a twisting vortex of metal. His face morphs into view with blank features and a grin of piano keys that extend toward his ears.

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t endure another moment of torture.

“You spent the night beneath the shopping mall. What was that about?”

“Dr. Daniel?” I rasp. “I couldn’t go back to HQ directly. I was being followed?—”

He slaps my face so hard my head jerks to the side. “You weren’t,” he says, all traces of levity gone. “The tracker showed you moving to the airport, where you met another operative before disappearing out of range.”

My throat tightens. Whatever device he put in my body didn’t track my movements to Helsing Island.

“When you returned to spend the night in the Montesano mansion, while your fellow operatives were still underneath it, so I could only assume you’d struck a deal.”

“I was stalling for time. They wanted me to show them the location of the headquarters.”

“So you diverted them with disinformation?” he asks.

“It’s standard procedure,” I reply. “I took him to a warehouse on McCutts Island and said our facility was underground.”

He injects something else into my vein that infuses me with searing heat. A rush of nausea clogs my throat as he withdraws the needle.

“Nice try. It’s too bad I don’t give a damn. By the time I’ve finished experimenting on you, there’ll be nothing left of you to return to HQ.”

A sharp breath whistles through my teeth as the word returns to focus. I’m strapped to a gurney in the back of a van with blacked-out windows. Dr. Daniel stands over me, slicing open my shirt with a pair of shears.

I struggle within my restraints. The muscles of my arms straining against the tight bands. He cuts through the center of my sports bra, between the cups, and shoves the fabric aside. Cool air swirls over my breasts, making my nipples tighten.

He chuckles. “Gunther warned me that you were a sexy little thing.”

“I’ll kill you both.”

“How are you going to do that when I plan on preserving your body parts for science?”

The doctor leans in, his lips dangerously close to mine. His warm breath fans against my skin, carrying the scent of acetone.

Cold panic surges through my veins with a burst of adrenaline. I snap my head forward and slam my forehead into his nose with a satisfying crunch.

Blood spurts from his broken nose. He stumbles back with a scream, knocking into another gurney. I’ve bought myself a little time, but not nearly enough.

As he rights himself, I get a view of an unmoving figure lying on the gurney with their intestines spilling out onto a sterile sheet.

Terror shoots down my spine like a bolt of lightning. My gaze snaps to the victim’s pale face.

It’s Britt.

Dr. Daniel killed my best friend.

Now, he’s advancing toward me, his features twisting into a murderous scowl.

SEVENTY-SEVEN

CESARE