Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Why Can't I Turn?

“I thought he might have food.” I add, eyes darting around the room past him as I continue to come

back to the land of reality and start looking for something useful to help me get out of these straps.

Trying up muster up the will power to turn again, but nothing happens. Something is seriously

screwing with my abilities and this individual doesn’t seem like an imminent threat. Unless talking

you to death is possible. My nerves are quickly dissipating in his presence.

"Oh, so you're hungry. Oh lord, how thoughtless of us. Well we can do something about that can't

we. No need for us to be rude and inhospitable. It makes perfect sense you would be drawn to a

manmade building in search of supplies in the center of this green utopia if you were out here lost. I

just would like to know your name for a start, and possibly where you originated from, and maybe,

if you have any more friends lurking out there. A pack, a mate. Someone who might not be very

discreet about the whereabouts of our sensitive location. I know it's a bothersome formality, but

they won't let me feed or untie you without it.”

I ignore him completely, too occupied with the why of the fact I can't seem to muster any kind of

ability, and even my strength is no more than a regular human. It's beginning to frustrate me, as I

can now move my toes and feet, and rotate and wriggle them to test the strength of the straps. My

strength and speed I have even in human form, is absent.

"What have you done to me? Why can't I turn?” I snap it at him aggressively, temper rising as it

really sinks in, but it isn’t helpful in terms of ability at all. I hit him with a pointed look under lowered

browns and his happy little face drops to an almost impressed “oooh’ look.

"Ahhhh, well caught. You're an observant one, aren't you? This facility is a life-sized isolation tank, so

your kind can't use any unwanted force, or abilities, on my staff when we require your presence, or

when we have guests such as yourself. It's quite remarkable how they make a building completely

capable of dissolving any kind of supernatural ability, isn't it? I don't have the engineering science,

but I can assure you it's quite ingenious.” He talks way too much. He also gets way too excited over

the smallest things, and I eyeroll and shake my head at him, trying to draw him back to the intel that

I need.

"Once again...Where am 1?” I'm losing my cool quickly, annoyed at being held down and I start

wriggling manically, more to attempt to escape this crazy one, not giving a crap he’s standing right

there. The noise of the door beeping and clicking behind him though, snaps my attention back to it,

and the dark uniformed figure that comes stalking in as he pushes a trolley with what seems to be a

food tray to one side.

"Pipe down, Princess. You know where you are because you hauled ass up to our door and tried to

take a peek. The question he asked .... Are there more of you out there?” It's a commanding deep,

almost growl like tone, from a serious looking man with a foreboding glare. My inner intimidation

returns, as he makes my brave pipe down, and I return to still, cool mannered, and stare directly at

him.

He's a scary one and most definitely wolf. Not that my sense of smell is working either. Tall, broad,

physically hunky, and good looking in that boring, typical, dominant wolf way, and unnervingly very

Santo. Which in itself is weird. He's Latino, dark, tanned, handsome, and I swear he almost has

Colton’s darkest chocolate eyes, although his have hints of green that lighten them overall and it

somehow kills the whole smoldering thing. He has an arrogant look to him, and a slight downturn

to his mouth where Colton’s turns up, that gives him an aggressive superiority air. Colton, even

when being an arrogant ass, always has a smiley quality to his face. Pretty boy... cute... dimples...

God, I miss him.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough.” I remark bitchily, not willing to give them any information until

I know what's going to happen to me. So far it does seem that tests, and experiments, and pulling

my insides out is unlikely. I'm probably more in danger of ben “fan girled' by the dude in the white

coat who has a serious leg hump for my whiteness.

If they know I'm alone and have no one tracking me, or with me, they might think nothing of

disposing of me. He did say this was a top-secret facility and I'm guessing making promises not to

tell doesn't really hold a lot of weight with these types. I shouldn't tell them anything, and pray they

believe I'm a no one and let me go on my merry way.

“Not the sensible response, Sweetheart. Name... Pack name. Don't get smart. The quicker we know

who you are, the faster you might get out of here.” He eyes me viciously, no friendly at all in that

face. I snort at that, half laughing, sardonically, and roll my eyes, noting how much emphasis he put

on the word might.

“Sure, I will. I mean, it's totally normal to be an asshole, drug people, and tie them up, right?”

Now is probably not a good time to realize I developed bad attitude and sass while living in the

wilderness, but something about him really riles me up. I'm guessing it's the Latino look, and that

hint of accent, reminding me of so many smug dickheads I grew up around, and his tone is getting

on my last nerve. Sick of being pushed around by these alpha type wolves and their damn

superiority complexes.

“Deacon, here, is our head of security and you must excuse his abrupt manner, he’s just very

concerned that the delicate nature of our work might be compromised if some random, yet very

pretty, rebel wolves should happen to disrupt our facility. We have sensitive materials that require

the utmost protection. I beg you to understand our predicament and disregard my friend's hostility

in such an unfortunate matter.” He's flapping, looking flustered and trying to give an air of friendly.

“Doc... too much intel for a bratty girl who's giving nothing in return. How about go polish a

stethoscope over in the corner and leave this to me.” He snaps and the poor little doctor reddens in

the cheeks at the verbal tell off. His eyes dropping to the floor in submission and it's no surprise to

see which one rules this roost.

Deacon is not that much older than me physically, and yet he acts like he could totally be of Juan's

arrogant, nasty bloodline, with a massive chip on his shoulder. He probably got stationed here

against his own will and takes it out on everyone around him. He looks like the type to love pistol

whipping people and probably gets off on the power trip.

“Maybe, if I wasn't chained to a bed, I would be more inclined to talk.” I point out, sarcastically,

raising one brow to drive the point home and showing none of the fear that's still simmering in my

belly. I guess being out there alone for weeks on end gave me a sense of fierce and confidence I

never knew I could ever get back, and this time it's Deacon who eyerolls.

“She does have a point though, it's not very polite of us, especially when she cannot do any physical

damage within these walls.” The doc seems to be the soft touch and the dark glare Deacon spins

and throws at him, makes him pipe down immediately. He almost turns crimson from the neck up

and shuffles back, slightly away from the big brute at his side.

“She gets loose when we get some answers!” He digs his heels in, turning back to me with an

unamused frown that signals him throwing his dominance around and I sigh heavily, knowing I've

no choice but to give them something if I want the use of my limbs at least. It's not great being

interrogated by two men standing over me, while I'm set out like a sacrifice to the gods. Mentally it

makes me feel at a very huge disadvantage and being free would make this less intimidating.

“Fine!!! Carmen!!... My pack comes from the east, and I'm taking a little trekking holiday break from

them after a fight with my mom, and stupidly stumbled across your little building. I was curious

that's all.” I lie convincingly and stare straight at Mr. Security. long and hard to drive the point home.

My stomach is starting to tremble, my nerves getting the better of me, and I can't tell if the waves of

cold are the aftereffects of the drug, or my anxiety peeking. I've no idea why I chose her name. I

guess on some level, if I do get free, then I want her name to be the one they cast to the shoot on

sight if seen again list. I mean, I do blame her for a huge portion of how I got here.

"Carmen? Hmmm. Nope.” He replies and crosses his arms across a muscular chest, trying to appear

in the know, but it only serves to irritate me further.

“Umm, why nope? Carmen is my god damn name, I'm sorry it doesn't meet your expectations.

Freak.” I huff, wriggle aggressively, and exhale heavily when I make no headway in loosening

anything.

“You're not a very good liar.... You have about fifty tells, and the only part of that which was true was

that you stumbled across us. The rest was bullshit. Look, we just need to know who else is with you,

and who you linked and told about this place before we took you down?”

"What does it matter, for fuck sake? No one, okay. I'm alone, and this bullshit is getting old. Untie

me if you're all so fucking nice and friendly, as it might make a god damn difference to this

conversation! If you want me to talk then get me off this god damn, uncomfy, infernal fucking bed,

you have me strung out on like I'm awaiting dissection!” I lose my cool, my temper snaps with

sheer frustration at him, riling in a way only Colton ever could make me, and I blame the fact that he

resembles him somewhat, and has that same pig-headed, stubborn ass, manner that used to make

me crazy hate the Santos. That know it all, bull crap, mind game, shit, and ordering me around.

"How alone?” He completely ignores my femme tantrum. Deacon steps closer, pressing his hands to

either side of my head on the bed and it dips as he leans into me, bringing his face close enough he

locks on me, eye to eye, and blocks out most of the light over my head, casting his face in shadow.

It has the effect I guess he was going for, in that I lose all fight, recoiling back inside myself,

completely affected, and a little fearful, and lift my chin in a bid to not show it. Backing down subtly,

but not without a little fight.

“Like all the way alone... My pack isn't with me, but I can't be sure they aren't far behind.” It's not

really a lie, as I don't actually know if any of my pack have ever caught onto any kind of trail and

followed me. I doubt it, as they would have caught up by now, but I'm not going to say I know for

sure they haven't. I just don't know, and it seems to be a believable statement as he leans up and

pushes himself away from me after a minor scrutinizing of my face at close quarters.

“No one with you? No mind linking?” He repeats sternly and as stupid as I am for admitting it, I

shake my head. Deacon seems satisfied I'm not lying and turns back to his submissive

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