Hearing her Cries, page 36
There had been some guy in the eighties, she thought, that had had a sperm bank of supposed Nobel Prize winners. The guy had been all about genius babies, and eugenics. There were others out there who still discussed the concept. Still believed it was theoretically possible.
To Zoey it was stomach turning.
Pen had mentioned it before—when she’d been trying to “find herself” when she’d been all of fourteen. Her sister had said she hoped no one ever attempted it for real. The ethical implications were terrifying.
No damned kidding.
Apparently, she’d stumbled right into another eugenic freak. Just her luck.
And he’d known her mother. Just how well had he known her mother?
"Isn't that the study of deliberately breeding for desired traits?" Horror filled her as she even considered it. Someone messing with eugenics was unimaginable and highly unethical. She'd read of experiments like this before. Illegal ones, or fraudulent. Or deliberately cruel. Or just flat-out insane. "What exactly do you intend to do to me before you dispose of me so humanely?"
Zoey had encountered more evil in her job with the TSP than most people would ever encounter in their entire lifetimes. But this? This was far worse than anything she had ever heard before. "You've been watching us this whole time? Our entire lives? Rafe and Caine and Paige and Ariella."
Right there in Rafe’s hospital where he could watch her brother every day. And Rafe’s son, Caine’s youngest son and two youngest daughters—in the daycare. Right there. With a madman. For hours every single week.
He had been that close to her brothers’ children.
"Yes, yes, and all the rest.” He waved a hand impatiently. “Your mother donated oocytes to me twelve months after their birth—after it became clear how exceptional Rafael was. Rafael and Caine, though I expected Caine to have passed on by that point. Imagine my surprise when I learned he was alive and well. And flourishing."
He seemed impatient at the questions, but also...happy to discuss it. Of course, he was. He was a megalomaniac, after all. She had to keep him talking while she figured out what to do next.
"Julius Deane helped fund my early lab. My early research. He was fascinated by horse breeding; did you know that? Brilliant at it, actually. We had wonderful discussions on how horse breeding could transfer to, well, breeding more perfect children. He was interested in comparing one of my golden children to his own son, if one was raised in the same environment. He was quite proud of his son, you know. So we made certain that that longitudinal study became a reality. I added the other twin, raised in a far less nurturing environment, to the study later. I am continuing it now. Ironic, isn’t it, that Julius’s eldest son married one of my Denita’s daughters? Their children will be phenomenal. Exceptional and brilliant. Those I have studied of Denita’s grandchildren are just that. Extraordinary. Those Alvaro girls, perfection. I do have to say, both male Alvaro infants did turn out to be quite exceptional as adults, didn’t they? And, of course, I am observing their young children in the hospital daycare on a twice weekly basis. Julius’s soon-to-be-born grandchild will make a wonderful addition to the study."
Will make. That meant…he most likely didn’t have Ariella.
That left Paige. Or that little girl. Or some random woman Zoey had never met before. Anything was possible now.
He'd studied them. And he’d engineered some of them. Like they were nothing more than cattle. Now he was watching Caine and Rafe’s children? Zoey bit back the urge to vomit.
She had to keep him talking. Her hand was almost free.
"What about Julius’s wife? What did she get out of the deal?" Every record they'd found had said Evelyn Deane had purchased Rafe because she had wanted another child. Nothing more complicated than that. Then she’d practically abandoned Rafe as an infant.
Nothing about Julius Deane anywhere. He was almost a footnote.
None of his sons mentioned him much at all. At least not positively. And even though Marcus had asked his mother about the woman who had sold Rafe to her so long ago, she had refused to cooperate.
"She received nothing, why would she? Just another child to raise and love, of course. It wasn't her decision at all. Julius was the one who made all the important decisions in their life. He gave her the boy, told her they were going to raise him as their own, under very specific rules, and that was it. That woman knew better than to argue. Julius knew how to control her adequately."
He hadn't secured her feet. There were stirrups right there. Zoey tried not to freak, seeing those stirrups. She knew…what they were for. And that just was not going to happen.
"It took the back of his hand or his belt quite frequently at first, but Evelyn eventually learned to do as she was instructed. She has always been a bit of an obstinate woman. I do hope you will be far more manageable as we move into Phase II. That includes you donating the oocytes I need without arguing. I do not want to have to sedate you too often, young lady. I know you are not a proven breeder, yet, of course, but you should be reasonably fertile at your age. If you are not, you will be disposed of, and I will find another.”
Like her entire purpose for being was tied up in his little experiment. She was livestock, breeding stock, and nothing more. This man…was worse than any other sociopath or psychopath she had ever heard of.
“There are plenty more of your half sisters out there to choose from. I simply need your mother's DNA to continue my experiments. And my donor must not be a carrier for that heart condition. There are many who will meet those requirements. It doesn’t truly matter which of her daughters I choose. And my last embryo was too flawed. I should have kept the one before that, but the offer I was made for a male embryo using that particular gentleman’s sperm was too good to refuse. Very lucrative.”
He just kept talking. Rambling. As he made notes on a clipboard. “That embryo will be birthed and final payment delivered within seven months, I believe. Pity. I would like to have him, but a debt is a debt. I was paying back a debt made more than thirty years ago. With you, actually. You were supposed to have been a male, and sent to the same client as your two brothers immediately before you. You were misidentified as male. Back then…it caused me a great deal of trouble.”
Brothers before her. Those would have been…Slater and Royal Davis. She thought.
He patted her on the knee, almost paternally. Zoey tried not to jerk away, to kick. Just…not yet.
“For Phase II. It will take about six weeks to adequately arrange the first harvest. If you take well to the process, we may even manage ten harvests. In the commercial donation world, six is the cap for a young woman. But that is foolishness. The experiment deserves as many as we can harvest expediently. You are young and healthy appearing. That is phenomenal, considering the trauma of the shooting."
Zoey was trying not to freak. This asshole wasn't getting anywhere near her damned eggs. That just wasn't going to happen.
"Tell me, where exactly are you at in your menstrual cycle?"
Zoey just blinked at him.
Had he seriously just asked her that? "What kind of a doctor are you again?"
"Obstetrics, women’s health, reproductive specialist. I am the founder of four different IVF clinics in this state, and two in Oklahoma. I am on the Board at FCGH, and FCU. I guest teach at FCU Med occasionally."
"How did you know my mother? Tell me about her. I never knew her."
"Denita was so extraordinary." His eyes changed. Just like that. He had an almost dreamy look that terrified her.
An obsessed look.
This guy…sold babies for cold hard cash. While doing social experiments on others. Zoey’s blood chilled as what this man was sank in.
He was the answer she had been searching for. The why and the how of everything.
Her very existence.
She’d just found the asshole who had helped her mother.
Who knew everything Zoey had been searching for. Who knew…where they all were. Every last sibling she had.
"My mother's name was Denise. She died five years ago."
"No. That it was not. Her name was Denita. Denise was a play on the nickname I had given her so long ago. Deni was the love of my life. And you were all… Deni’s children. She gave several of you my middle name as your last. To honor me, of course. Deni was my soul. I’d tell her that, you know. When we were being together. And she was extraordinary.” He wiped his eyes, as if he was tearing up. That…terrified her. He felt emotion, all right. For a dead woman.
“Answer my questions now, young lady. Have you had sexual intercourse within the last twenty-four hours? I do assume you are sexually active, considering Sheriff Lake's presence in your home this morning, reported by my contractors. And he appears to be a rather animalistic young man. Perhaps a higher percentage of Denisovan DNA has made its way into his bloodlines.” He sniffed derisively. As if Murdoch was less than he was.
She wanted to kick the bastard. “If it has, I like it. He’s a thousand times the man you will ever be.”
“Studies haven’t proven whether that type of caveman DNA impacts us now, but…I’m certain it does. How can it not? Some men should not be allowed to reproduce, but he does look strong, fit, healthy. His brother Anthony is quite intelligent, a very talented physician. No. Sheriff Lake wouldn’t have kept his hands off you last night. I certainly couldn’t have, if I had been in his place. Did you use proper birth control, at least? Are you on the pill, an IUD, or something else? I am hoping you are not on anything that would need removed. That would delay my plans. I do hope you used condoms. We cannot afford an unplanned pregnancy now. Not with you needing to be prepared to donate. I almost took Paige instead, last week. When our paths crossed so surreptitiously there at the hospital where she was visiting her brother, but considering she is carrying a fetus now, that was not possible. It would have delayed my experiment for several weeks."
The guy wasn't just off his rocker, he was flat out insane. Evil. "My sex life is none of your damned business."
He reached out and casually slapped her. Right across her cheek. "Do not sass me, young lady. It will not be allowed."
"You can go screw the nearest electrical outlet, asshole." Just one more good pull, and she would be free. But with him looming over her, and the lingering effects of whatever he’d given her—Zoey couldn’t risk it.
She’d only have one real shot at getting away.
"You are acting nothing like your mother. She never would have used those words!" Apparently, she'd disappointed him with that. Too damned bad. "You will behave! You will act like your mother, young lady! Or you will be punished severely."
"The mother who abandoned me to foster care thirty years ago? The mother who sold my brothers and sisters? Who let you play with our lives like this? Let you experiment on us? Who abused Simon and Luc and Paige? Who left Penelope outside in forty degree weather when she was critically ill? Why should I give a flying rat's ass about my mother, you sick old freak? When she didn't care about any of us? Tell me that! Why should I ever care about her at all?"
He slapped her again.
Hard.
Zoey's cheek burned. She almost thought he'd broken her cheek bone. Ok, maybe making him angry hadn't been the smartest move.
“You have Gregory Simon? Where is my son?”
Zoey just smirked. She wasn’t giving him anything. She for damned sure wasn’t telling him where her baby brother was right now.
She was about to yank her arm free when footsteps came up behind him. He turned.
Zoey froze. One old man—she could get away from. But if there were others involved in this experiment of his, that could have just complicated everything. For Zoey—and whichever of her sisters they had here now.
"What are you doing back so soon?" He almost shouted at someone she couldn't see.
"Brought you a few presents. They are outside in my van,” a man’s voice said. Younger, firmer. Stronger. Less cultured. Zoey’s terror ratcheted up another level.
"You acquired the surrogate I requested so quickly? Excellent."
Zoey's throat almost closed. A surrogate? She was the donor. A surrogate to carry the baby was next on his evil plan. His experiment.
That little girl had spoken of the experiment.
"About that. Had a bit of trouble. You'll see for yourself. Your little program will be just like you want it, though. I did get you a precious genius to carry your golden babies. As many as you want. Just…not the exact surrogate you wanted."
“What? Did you screw up again?” Then he was gone.
And Zoey was there alone. She pulled her arm free. And looked for something, anything, to protect herself somehow.
There was nothing.
Not even a damned scalpel amongst his evil doctor tool collection.
96
The redheaded man had dragged Pen out of the van over his shoulder, telling the dark-haired guy with a lisp and their two friends to get the redheaded guardian of hell inside—without laying a finger on her.
His crude order had been rather clear. Hands off.
If Sydney got knocked up by one of them—they wouldn’t get paid.
They’d done what they were told. Even the guy who had been sobbing like his world had ended.
His brother had been killed. By the blonde. He’d just kept saying that repeatedly. That bitch had killed his only brother. Murdered Ted for nothing.
Grace had shot his brother. Pen had watched it happen.
Another guy had been killed by Gerard.
Before…Gerard…
Pen bit back wild grief, for Gerard, and Grace, and Jo-Jo.
She’d seen the bullets hit Jo-Jo.
Then Grace.
Before they’d taken her and Sydney.
They’d carried Pen into one room. In the basement. They’d taken Sydney somewhere else. Somewhere near the back and upstairs, the lisper had said.
The redheaded man wanted to show Pen to the man who would be paying them. And giving the redheaded man his precious angel in exchange. The redheaded man wanted his angel really badly.
Pen wasn’t really sure what was going on at all. She was too afraid to even think.
There was a man now. He was equally as tall as Rafe and Caine. But softer. Older. She’d seen him before. At Melody’s ball. Had spoken to him, even.
He’d scared her then.
He terrified her now.
He was staring at her eyes, and breathing heavily. There were scratches on his cheek.
Fresh ones.
Ones he’d gotten before she and Sydney had arrived.
There was someone else in here now. Captive. Someone who had fought him, too.
Who was maybe even dead now. Pen or Sydney were next. Pen just knew it.
Pen fought the urge to throw up when he put his face right next to hers. He grabbed her chin, and squeezed, hard, when she instinctively tried to pull back. He turned her head, first left and then right. Inspecting her.
He pulled out a small pen light and shone it in her eyes carefully.
"Good. Good." He patted her on the cheek. He flicked her small nose ring dismissively, and yanked a lock of her blue hair. "Your rebellion, I take it, young lady? Yes, you are part of the set, aren't you? I noticed before, at the Barratt that night. But I am not certain what I am to do with you now. Considering…genetics being what they are. Unless the original damage to that other girl was in fact caused accidentally like she’d reported. Then again, if you turn out to be as perfect a donor as your sister undoubtedly will…I could retrieve twice as many as I originally thought. Or get what I need in half as much time. Speed is definitely a factor at this phase. You do have a higher IQ than your sister. That could be something I test as well. Yes. I may have use for you, after all. A bit too early to tell. Never matter, I shall pay their asking price. I do pay for silence mostly, you understand.”
Pen just watched him. She thought about kicking him right in the stomach, but there was no way she'd be able to get away from the guy with him leaning over her right now. She bit back the nausea again. Then she just couldn’t.
The old dude barely got out of the way in time.
She’d made him mad with that. She didn’t care.
He was at least in his midsixties, but he was big. Equally as big as her brothers Rafe and Caine, who were six foot five or six or so. She wasn't going to be able to escape him from physical prowess.
She'd have to outsmart him.
She was smart, no denying that. Zoey had made sure she was street-smart, too. Zoey had made sure she could take care of herself.
She wasn't stupid. She wasn't. She could get out of this. Her family would be looking for her soon.
She always wore her bracelet. She still had it on.
As soon as someone realized Jo-Jo and Grace were hurt—they’d start looking for her and Sydney. She just had to hold on until they got there to rescue them.
Sydney was in here someplace, too. Pen was going to find her. They would escape together. He muscled her into a long hallway, next. Up a narrow flight of stairs.
The redheaded man followed.
"My family will come for me. My friends." They literally had private armies at their disposal. All they had to do was realize she and Sydney were in trouble. Luc had more than two dozen guards. They just had to know she was in trouble first.
His expression turned almost rabid. "No one will take you away from me again. No one will find you here. Or the young women in the basement now."
Women.
The guy was completely insane.
She looked toward the fading light from the window. She was at least one floor up now. No more basement. He muscled her into what looked like a vintage medical exam room and shoved her onto the exam table.
Pen tried to think. To figure out what was going on here, so she could get out of here. What would Zoey do? That was what she’d do. WWZD. That was her new motto until she was home with her sister. No matter what.
They’d carried her into a weird looking house of some kind. An orphanage or something. This was a big place. Sydney was in here somewhere. Pen was going to get away from this butt-wipe and find Sydney. They’d get out of here.
