Crimson (The Silver Series Book 3) Read online

  CRIMSON

  The Silver Series: Book 3

  By Cheree L. Alsop

  Copyright © 2012 by Cheree L. Alsop

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover Design by Andy Hair

  www.ChereeAlsop.com

  To my husband, Michael Alsop.

  Thank you for always believing that

  Dreams truly do come true, for

  Smoothing out the rough edges, and

  Making these stories come to life.

  To my family for their support;

  To my children for making

  Every day an adventure.

  I love you!

  Chapter 1

  I was alive. The truth hit me with a cold rush of fear and self-loathing. Pain flared through every cell of my body and the world spun even with my eyes closed, but I didn’t care. I remembered dying. I should have died, and they should still be alive.

  “He’s waking up. Summon Dr. Tannin,” a crisp female voice said.

  Footsteps walked away on a tile floor, only it didn’t sound like any footsteps I had ever heard before. The sound was full and complete. I heard every millimeter of the person’s shoes touch the tile and each contact gave its own individual sound; together it made a complete symphony that echoed off resonant walls and came back to my ears. I could tell by the sound alone how far away the person was and the distance traveled between each step.

  I opened my eyes in shock. Blinding neon lights glared down at me from a low ceiling, washing everything in colors I recognized, but that looked different, fuller somehow, highlighted with shades of gray and black I had never noticed before.

  Instruments beeped and lights suspended on metal poles clicked on, blinding me. The world spun and I turned my head to see a metal bar along the side of my bed and a pair of shiny handcuffs attached to them. I followed the handcuff chain and realized it was fastened around my wrist. My heart started to race.

  More of the sharp, full footsteps entered the room. “Give him the sedative, quick,” a gruff voice ordered.

  Cold fluid entered an I.V. at my wrist and spread with a knife-edged pain through my veins. I tried to yell, but the fluid stole my ability to open my mouth or to do anything more than breathe. I closed my eyes; tears leaked free and dripped down my cheeks.

  “Did it work?” the gruff voice asked.

  “I’m not sure, Doctor. He just barely awoke.” The woman’s voice lowered. “He’s the only one to wake up. What does that mean?”

  “We don’t know yet,” the male voice replied.

  A hand touched my face and I couldn’t turn away. Fingers pried open my eyes, then the doctor gasped and stepped back.

  “What is it?” the woman asked.

  “Look at his irises.”

  Smaller fingers opened my eyelids; the woman's eyes widened before she let go. “They’re red. What would make that happen?”

  “There's no telling what effects the fusion will have.” Dr. Tannin picked up a sheet of paper and I could smell the day-old ink and the fibers that made up the page. Concentrating, I could also smell the sap and green life of the trees the fibers had come from. I forced myself to imagine them, trees reaching for the blue sky, leaves drifting to the rich loam, a breeze rushing past, tangling my black hair that was longer than my mother liked. I tried to imagine myself there, to leave behind the overwhelming pain and fear of the unknown things that were being done to me.

  I came back when Dr. Tannin said, “Begin the test.”

  A dial was turned and a jolt of electricity ran through my body from electrodes on my chest, thighs, biceps, and head. I tried to scream, but my jaw was locked from whatever liquid they had put in my I.V. My back arched and my eyes flew open. Two women in white watched me dispassionately as the doctor made notes on his sheet of paper that was now attached to a clipboard. He studied a monitor next to the bed that showed a series of jumping lines while he toyed with a gold pen against his bottom lip.

  “Interesting,” he said without looking at me. “Do it again.”

  Another jolt ran through my body. My tongue caught between my teeth this time and when my jaw locked, I tasted blood.

  “His mouth is bleeding, Doctor,” one of the women said in a monotone voice.

  “He’ll heal,” the doctor replied without looking. “Up the voltage and try it again.”

  By the time they were finished, I barely felt the electricity. My nerves were frayed and raw; even the touch of the sheet underneath me hurt.

  Dr. Tannin barely glanced in my direction. “We’ll try it without the sedative tomorrow in the control room. Perhaps we’ll get faster results.”

  “Did it work, then, Doctor?” one of the women asked as they walked with him to the door. “Is he a werewolf?”

  “It seems like it,” Dr. Tannin replied. “Tomorrow, we’ll know for sure.”

  Their voices faded away down the hall. I disregarded their words to the madness that jumbled my thoughts from the electricity, and focused instead on my surroundings.

  My eyes were the only things I could move with the paralyzing hold of whatever they had given me. White walls, a white ceiling, and stainless steel laboratory equipment made up the contents of the room. It was as big as my parents’ home, but I seemed to be the only inhabitant. The smell of sterilization liquid made my nose burn while another scent, deep and iron-tinged, filled me with dread. It took me a moment to place it as the smell of blood. The scent was as sharp and clear as the sound of the footsteps earlier.

  After about an hour of laying motionless waiting for something to happen, I felt the hold of the substance in my veins lessen. I flexed my arm against the handcuffs, but they didn’t budge. Something held my legs down also. Between the handcuffs and the I.V., I was helpless, a victim to their every whim.

  The thought sent a surge of fear up my spine; with it ran a rush of adrenaline, but it was much stronger and filled my limbs with a new strength I had never before possessed. The surge diluted whatever was in my veins, and I was able to regain control of my arms and legs. I flexed again and felt the chain on the handcuff of my right wrist give slightly. I put all my effort into that one cuff and pulled. The chain links strained, then snapped. I pulled on my left wrist and it gave easier this time. I yanked out the I.V., then broke the handcuffs on my ankles.

  I rose slowly and my legs shook, but held. I stood unsteadily beside the bed and studied the door. The lights in the room had been turned off and only an emergency light flickered near the far end, but to my eyes there were shades of gray and white instead of black, making it almost as clear as day. A little red light blinked at the edge of my vision and I turned to see a camera in the corner of the room. I hurried to the door and was relieved to find it unlocked. I made my way down the hall away from the doctor's scent and was about to turn up another hallway when an alarm sounded above my head; I cringed as the shrieking siren cut through my
eardrums like knives.

  A red light spun in the alarm, confusing my vision with patterns of red, black, white, and gray. I closed my eyes and fumbled along the hall, desperate to escape the alarm. I found a door handle, but it was locked. Adrenaline surged through my body and I forced the handle down, then pushed the door open and stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind me.

  “Who’s there?” a voice asked.

  I spun in a crouch with my back to the door and searched with my hands for anything I could use as a weapon while my eyes fought off the lingering effects from the alarm light.

  “I said, who’s there?” the voice asked, stronger this time. Footsteps neared and I backed into the corner. “Stay back,” I warned.

  She stopped and my brain categorized her scent without effort. A faint wisp of vanilla tangled with the overwhelming antiseptic scent of the room. A hint of cinnamon was almost lost in a wild, woody smell that seemed almost animal.

  My eyes adjusted and I fought back a faint smile at the way she regarded me, one hand on her hip and the other holding what appeared to be an emesis basin in a threatening manner.

  “Are you going to kill me with that?” I asked dryly. “Because I can imagine better ways to die, or at least more sanitary ones.”

  A smile touched her lips, then it vanished and she glared at me again. “What are you doing in my room?” She tipped her head toward the door. “Are you the reason for the alarm?”

  She looked at me for a moment, her eyes strangely distant, then motioned toward the other side of the room. “You can hide in the closet. They shouldn’t check in here, unless you broke the door.”

  I rose and glanced at the handle that dangled uselessly in its socket. “I kind-of did,” I said with an apologetic shrug.

  She nodded to herself as if coming to a decision. “Fine, then we have to run.”

  “We?” I protested. “What do you mean, we?”

  “You’re getting out of here and you’re taking me with you,” she stated. She grabbed a few items from the dresser by her bed, detached an I.V. I hadn’t noticed from her wrist, and pulled her long dark hair back with a rubber band.

  “What makes you think I’ll take you?” I asked, some of my old defiance coming back.

  “Because you’re my only hope of escape.” She said it bluntly, but there was an edge of desperation to her voice that caught in my chest.

  I sighed. “Fine.” A rush of footsteps sounded down the hall and I ducked behind the door; my heart raced as they pounded past and continued up the hallway.

  “Go now,” the girl whispered, suddenly close to my ear. “Follow the way they went.” She grabbed my arm when I opened the door and we ran up the hall after them.

  I followed the girl’s directions down one hallway, a left, another left, then into a small room with a computer.

  “This isn’t the exit,” I hissed in a loud whisper.

  “We’ve got to find Gabe first,” she said, motioning toward the computer. “Quick, search for Gabe Locklow.”

  I was about to ask her why she couldn’t do it, then held my tongue and typed in the name. The file pulled up with red letters across the top. “It says ‘deceased’,” I told her.

  Her face paled and she put a hand to her mouth. “No. Oh, no,” she whispered.

  “Who was he?”

  “My fiancé,” she said in a voice so quiet I shouldn’t have been able to hear it.

  I tried to think of something comforting to say, not one of my strong points, but another group of men rushed down the hall. “We’ve got to go,” I said as gently as I could considering the urgent situation.

  She shook her head and leaned back against the desk, her eyes distant. “No, not Gabe. Please not Gabe.”

  I touched her arm. “They’re going to find us if we stay here any longer.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, her voice hollow. “Nothing matters.” Tears filled up her eyes and she turned away.

  Firm resolution filled my chest. “It does matter. This is a horrible place and I’m not going to let you stay here.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her back with me to the door. She crouched beside me while another group of men ran by, then I opened the door and pulled her out with me. “Which way?” I whispered.

  She didn’t seem to hear me the first time, but when I repeated it she gestured vaguely down the hall. I pulled her after me and we ran in a half-crouch past several more doors. I turned left at the hallway and we ran to the end of the corridor. The doors were all locked and the small window showing a brief glimpse of a midnight sky had bars across it that didn't budge when I tried to break them.

  “It’s a dead end,” I said, trying to keep the panic that was rising in my chest out of my voice.

  “What?” she asked in a detached tone.

  Her numbness to the situation finally pushed me over the top. “It’s a dead end,” I yelled. “Can’t you see that there’s nowhere to go? You’ve led us to a dead end and they’ll find us and perform more horrible experiments on us!”

  “A dead end?” she echoed.

  “Look!” I shouted. I turned her face toward the wall and the window that was too small for us to get through even if I did manage to break the bars. She stared blankly, her face not even registering my rough touch, and I dropped my hands in horror. “You’re blind,” I whispered. The sightless cast to her blue eyes was unmistakable.

  She blinked and another tear slid down her cheek. “There was an accident during one of the experiments about a month ago,” she said quietly.

  I backed away from her to the wall, my mind reeling. “What do we do now?” I demanded more to myself than to her.

  She touched the door beside her and her hands slid down to the doorknob. She yanked on the handle and it gave an audible snap, then the door opened inward. I stared at her with my mouth open.

  “What’s in there?” she asked urgently.

  I glanced inside. “An empty room.”

  She slipped in and I followed. I closed the door behind us and propped it shut with a chair. “What are you?” I whispered, glancing around the room for an escape route.

  “A werewolf like you,” she replied. “You did the same thing to my door, remember?” She stood in the middle of the room with her hands slightly out, feeling to make sure she didn't run into anything.

  “I’m not a werewolf,” I replied distractedly. “They must have messed up your mind along with your eyesight.”

  She smiled and sniffed the air. “You’re definitely a werewolf. I guess their experiments worked.” Sadness swept over her face but she pushed it away. “You smell different, though, like there’s something strange with your blood.”

  “There’s something strange with your head,” I muttered. I walked to the window and glanced out. The ground was two stories below, but a sloped roof the next story down made escape possible. “We can go through here if I can get the bars off.” I grabbed them and pulled. The first bar came free and I tossed it to the floor.

  “Quiet!” she hissed at the clatter. “They’ll hear you.”

  “With their werewolf hearing?” I mumbled, ripping off another bar and setting it quietly on the floor this time.

  “They’re not werewolves, you idiot,” she said in an exasperated tone. “We are. Why do you think they want us here?”

  “I haven’t figured that one out. I’m supposed to be dead,” I replied, ripping off two more bars. One more yank and the last one was gone. I pushed up the window and grabbed the girl’s arm. “You first.”

  She put a hand on the windowsill, then froze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do it,” she said in a tight voice. I could smell the fear radiating from her.

  “Are you afraid of heights?” I asked before I remembered that she couldn’t see.

  Her mouth twisted into a small smile.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “It’s alright. Will you help me?”

  I nodded, then realized sh
e couldn’t see me and said, chagrined, “Definitely. The ground’s not far. We just have to drop to the lower roof, crawl to the edge, and jump to the ground.”

  “That easy, huh?” she asked in a slightly ironic tone.

  I rolled my eyes. “Just go already.”

  She grabbed my hand and I hoisted her out the window. She clung to the sill and stared back at me with unseeing eyes. “I’m right behind you,” I reassured her.

  More footsteps pounded down the hall and someone tried the doorknob. I grabbed the window sill and lifted myself up, then took the girl’s arms.

  “Don’t drop me!” she said, her voice high with terror.

  “Trust me,” I replied. “I’m going to lower you down and I won’t let go until you can land on the roof below without getting hurt, okay?”

  She grabbed my arms so tight the skin turned white. “Alright. I’m ready.”

  The door behind me rattled as someone tried to force it open. I lowered the girl slowly from the windowsill. When she was about four feet from the lower roof, I whispered, “Okay, I’m letting go. Bend your knees when you land.”

  She nodded and I dropped her. The door behind me flew open and I barely had time to make sure she landed safely before I jumped down after her. The drop to the roof should have hurt a lot more than it did, but bullets started to pepper the shingles around us and I didn’t have time to think about it. “Come on!” I said. I grabbed her arm and we ran down the slope of the lower roof. “Jump!” I shouted when we neared the edge. She jumped with me and we hit the ground, stumbled slightly, then were up and running for the far fence.

  Dogs barked in the distance and we ran faster than I had ever run before. We reached the fence just before the dogs. “Step in my hands and I’ll help you over,” I said.

  The girl put a hand on my shoulder and fumbled with her foot for my hands. I lifted up, passing her up and over the fence with ease. Branches snapped and I turned as the pack of dogs came into view. The animals formed a circle around me, growling and showing sharp teeth and lots of angry drool.