down at her. “The scientist’s name was Ordwell,” he told her. “Simon Ordwell, and he was a sadistic bastard who got his pleasure from hurting us. He hurt the other three so badly they died ungodly deaths in unrelenting agony.”
Her hand tensed on his calf. “I’m glad you lived.”
“I was stronger than the others,” he said and a strange shadow flitted through his gaze. “He took more care with me.”
She watched him shift in the chair as though feeling the pain that had been meted out to him.
“The scarring on your back was caused from the weapon he created?”
He nodded. “It was a direct-energy transmitter. It sent 250,000 volts of electricity through the central nervous system to control the skeletal muscles.”
“That much voltage would kill a human outright,” she whispered.
“And put a major hurt on a Lycant,” he stated dryly. “The device was designed with two transprobes built into a wide fibromesh belt that was locked around my waist. If you tried to remove the belt, you got a warning jolt and if you continued, the voltage went up and the duration of the hit increased. Each probe was situated over a kidney. With the transprobe activated against a place where you’d been hit time and time again, it will burn the flesh and do permanent tissue and organ damage.”
“It damaged your kidney.”
“It destroyed one and severely damaged the other to the point where it began to fail,” he replied. “But lucky me, Ordwell had invented an artificial kidney that he was good enough to implant in me. The only trouble is when it is doing what it was intended to do--purifying my blood--it hurts like hell. The more active I am, the more frequently the AK works. The more frequently it works, the more pain I feel.” He shrugged. “It’s a no-win/no-win situation for me.”
The kettle began to whistle and he would have gotten up but instead she did, padding softly into the kitchen area to fix them a cup of tea. She brought the mugs to the fireplace and sank down at his feet again. She saw him wince as he reached for the mug she held up to him.
“Thank God you got out of Draeton,” she said, tears filling her eyes at the agony this man had been made to endure and was still enduring.
“They needed an assassin to take out General Bashenko and I was the only Lycant assassin left alive and they needed my killing abilities,” he said. “I was given a full pardon after I fried his evil ass.” He took a long swig of the hot tea then rested his head on the back of the rocker.
She thought of the head of military security who had attempted a coup of his own after the war, hoping to rule the world and was awed that she was in the presence of the man who had brought him down.
“I disappeared after that,” he said. “I didn’t want them to know where I was so I went looking for the perfect hideout and found it here.”
“Wendt will tell them where you are,” she said then took a sip of the tea.
“Oh, they know I’m up here,” he told her. “They just don’t know where. They’ve tried to catch me, have sent agents in but after awhile, they stopped coming.”
“If they pardoned you, why would they still be coming?”
“Ordwell wants me back,” he said. His eyes darkened. “For reasons of his own.”
“What happened to them?” she asked. “The agents, I mean.”
“I led them over the Ridge and into the territory of Ad Fear Liath Mor. What happened to them after that is anyone’s guess.”
She had no idea what he meant and wasn’t sure she wanted to ask.
He locked gazes with her. “I’ll be leading Wendt and his men over there tomorrow,” he said.
“You won’t hurt them?” she asked.
“I won’t lay a hand on them,” he said and his eyes never wavered from hers. “You have my word on that.”
She believed him and laid her head on his thigh again, her attention on the leaping flames. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two, three days at the most,” he
Her hand tensed on his calf. “I’m glad you lived.”
“I was stronger than the others,” he said and a strange shadow flitted through his gaze. “He took more care with me.”
She watched him shift in the chair as though feeling the pain that had been meted out to him.
“The scarring on your back was caused from the weapon he created?”
He nodded. “It was a direct-energy transmitter. It sent 250,000 volts of electricity through the central nervous system to control the skeletal muscles.”
“That much voltage would kill a human outright,” she whispered.
“And put a major hurt on a Lycant,” he stated dryly. “The device was designed with two transprobes built into a wide fibromesh belt that was locked around my waist. If you tried to remove the belt, you got a warning jolt and if you continued, the voltage went up and the duration of the hit increased. Each probe was situated over a kidney. With the transprobe activated against a place where you’d been hit time and time again, it will burn the flesh and do permanent tissue and organ damage.”
“It damaged your kidney.”
“It destroyed one and severely damaged the other to the point where it began to fail,” he replied. “But lucky me, Ordwell had invented an artificial kidney that he was good enough to implant in me. The only trouble is when it is doing what it was intended to do--purifying my blood--it hurts like hell. The more active I am, the more frequently the AK works. The more frequently it works, the more pain I feel.” He shrugged. “It’s a no-win/no-win situation for me.”
The kettle began to whistle and he would have gotten up but instead she did, padding softly into the kitchen area to fix them a cup of tea. She brought the mugs to the fireplace and sank down at his feet again. She saw him wince as he reached for the mug she held up to him.
“Thank God you got out of Draeton,” she said, tears filling her eyes at the agony this man had been made to endure and was still enduring.
“They needed an assassin to take out General Bashenko and I was the only Lycant assassin left alive and they needed my killing abilities,” he said. “I was given a full pardon after I fried his evil ass.” He took a long swig of the hot tea then rested his head on the back of the rocker.
She thought of the head of military security who had attempted a coup of his own after the war, hoping to rule the world and was awed that she was in the presence of the man who had brought him down.
“I disappeared after that,” he said. “I didn’t want them to know where I was so I went looking for the perfect hideout and found it here.”
“Wendt will tell them where you are,” she said then took a sip of the tea.
“Oh, they know I’m up here,” he told her. “They just don’t know where. They’ve tried to catch me, have sent agents in but after awhile, they stopped coming.”
“If they pardoned you, why would they still be coming?”
“Ordwell wants me back,” he said. His eyes darkened. “For reasons of his own.”
“What happened to them?” she asked. “The agents, I mean.”
“I led them over the Ridge and into the territory of Ad Fear Liath Mor. What happened to them after that is anyone’s guess.”
She had no idea what he meant and wasn’t sure she wanted to ask.
He locked gazes with her. “I’ll be leading Wendt and his men over there tomorrow,” he said.
“You won’t hurt them?” she asked.
“I won’t lay a hand on them,” he said and his eyes never wavered from hers. “You have my word on that.”
She believed him and laid her head on his thigh again, her attention on the leaping flames. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two, three days at the most,” he
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