The Deception (The James Ryker Series) by Rob Sinclair

Author:Rob Sinclair [Sinclair, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

22

The back-to-back doses of neural antagonizer pushed Devereaux to the brink – mentally as much as physically. By the time the effects of the double round had fully faded, she was a twitching, gibbering mess. For an age – hours? – her open eyes remained focused on the same spot: her arm, where Glenister had so effortlessly pushed the needle into her flesh for the latest dose. Where that surge of pain had taken over, spreading outward like a ring of fire.

Her arm looked no different to before, and she could move it, could wriggle her fingers, but something about the limb made it feel disconnected, as though it no longer belonged on her body. As though it was permanently tainted, impaired. She almost didn’t want it there – the source of all of that agony…

Footsteps outside the door. Devereaux tensed. She held her breath. It was too soon. Far too soon. She couldn’t be put through it again.

The door opened. Roseman, of course, but Devereaux searched beyond the sickly smile to see who else would enter behind. Please, not Glenister – the image of his face conjured in Devereaux’s mind now was of a mad scientist, cackling with delight as he deployed his hideous creation.

The door closed behind Roseman without anyone else entering. Devereaux slumped in relief. Her whole body relaxed… a little bit too much.

‘You dirty little…’ Roseman crowed, though she didn’t look or sound angry and her smile only broadened as she looked down at Devereaux’s crotch where the warm liquid spread, seeping through her thin underwear, trickling down her legs, and the chair legs, to the floor.

Roseman banged on the closed door. The vibration on the metal pulsed through Devereaux. ‘Get in here.’

The door reopened and two meaty guards strode in.

‘Hold her,’ Roseman demanded and the men grabbed at Devereaux’s arms, ankles, pinning her.

Roseman walked out of the room but was back in a flash, syringe in her hand.

‘Steady, Leia,’ she said, holding the needle up. ‘This is for your own good.’

‘No, please!’ Devereaux screamed.

But it made no difference. Other than to elicit an even more satisfied look on Roseman’s face as she pushed the pointed tip into Devereaux’s thigh. The men held on tight and Roseman watched with interest as Devereaux faded.

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