Page 54 of Legend of Scorpio

The guards left without untying them, making it feel so much worse.

“What do they want with us?” she whispered, despite knowing anything she said or did would be seen most likely by a security camera.

“Nothing good, I imagine,” Scorpio drawled.

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry, Doc. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you,” her hot retort.

“I can handle whatever they dish out.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle anything. This is illegal.”

“Pretty sure they don’t care about laws.

She grimaced. “Obviously.” She wanted to ask him if he thought the other Zodiacs would come to the rescue. Most likely, yes, so no reason to have those listening beef up their security. As it was, the location appeared well-guarded.

“Listen, Doc, whatever they ask of you, just tell them.”

“Tell them what? I know nothing.”

“Exactly. Don’t resist.”

She arched a brow. “And are you going to follow that advice?”

His lips quirked. “Not a chance. But no point in both of us being tortured.”

Hearing him say it brought back the trembles. “You think they’ll hurt us?”

“I’d count on it,” his grim response.

“Way to reassure,” she grumbled.

“Would you rather I lie?”

“No.” A sigh escaped her. “How long do you think they’ll keep us waiting?”

“Given the late hour? Probably until morning. You should get some rest.”

“I doubt I’ll sleep.”

A sudden hissing had her tilting her head to see the vent over the cages spewing a whitish fog.

“What is that? Is it poison?”

“Don’t panic. It’s sleeping gas,” Scorpio stated just as her eyelids began to flutter.

She woke to find herself still in the cage, lying on the floor, no longer in her clothes but a set of light blue scrubs. In good news, her tethers were gone and the door to her cage was left open. In the bad… Scorpio appeared to have disappeared from his prison.

It took a moment to realize they’d moved him to a hospital bed, one with built-in restraints that held him starfish style.

“Oh no,” Rebecca huffed as she stumbled to her feet, still woozy from the drug. She tottered from her cage and passed machines that hummed as they processed whatever samples had been inserted. Judging by the tray of tools beside a strapped Scorpio, she could easily imagine what some of those samples were. The needles and bloodied scalpel told a story, as did the oozing wound on his forearm.

His eyes were closed, but as she neared, they flashed open, full of rage that tempered to concern as he saw her.

“Hey, Doc. You okay?”