Rebel Heart (51 page)

With an air of indifference he didn't feel, he stepped back then slowly surveyed the room. The walls were all painted a pale blue and there was no furniture. Only one small telemonitor sitting in the far corner of the room gave any indication that he wasn't going to be left to fend for himself. Facing the screen, he said, "I told you I'm looking for Victoria Savage." He strove for calm.

Horizontal lines ran across the monitor as it began to hum and blink. A bright abstract sun appeared and a soft melody played a quiet tune. "I'm in a damn psycho ward."

"Serenity--peace--harmony," a soft female voice whispered.

None of this made sense, yet at the same time it was incredibly logical. He'd just never thought to give Tori that much credit. She didn't waste time this way. She confronted her opposition, battling, fighting. It was not like her to hide behind this type of treachery.

No, Jonathan had a hand in this, not that he hid behind treachery either. It was just that his approach was always more subtle, more unpredictable.

"Let me out, Victoria! Now!" he roared.

The monitor changed and now a little brook rushed helter-skelter through mountain valley. In the background, snow-topped mountains rose majestically.

"Equilibrium--tranquility--stillness." The female voice was softer and it was sexy as hell, but there was only one voice he wanted to hear. His hands clenched into tight fists, eyebrows narrowed at the screen.

"Victoria..." he gritted out.

Then the screen changed again.

Tori.

Now that she was there, in front of him, he didn't know what to say. She was wearing white, her hair pulled back into a tight knot at the base of her neck, and he knew she was tending patients. A facemask dangled in front of her. Nothing she wore would protect her.

And yet...

He knew she didn't need protection from the virus. From the moment she defied him to come to this disease-ridden city, he knew she had told him the truth about her immunity. Trust, he told himself, but that was a very fragile word.

She might feel he was trying to take away her independence, her freedom. He didn't intend to, but she had come to mean so much to him the thought of losing her left him desolate.

"Dr. Savage," she murmured huskily, her face expressionless. "You cannot stay here. Jonathan and I have agreed on this. You have two choices..." She paused. "Will you be reasonable?"

Cameron held his hands tightly behind his back. He was torn between the sweet knowledge she was healthy and in good hands with Jonathan--and the strongest urge to sweep her into his arms, bodily carrying her from the premises. As The Phantom, he'd have the encouragement of everyone in the facility, except Jonathan. But he had not come as The Phantom.

He could pray she would remain well. This time she had the upper hand and he couldn't help but feel stirred by her courage and daring.

Just how far did his little wife intend to carry this? She didn't know he'd followed her, willing to let her stay, if she would only take the utmost precautions. He had even followed her with the intention of performing the genetic surgery on any who wanted it. She couldn't have guessed that. He had never been anything but adamant they wait until the process had been thoroughly tested.

"Aren't I always reasonable? I just told you I wanted to talk with Jonathan."

"Hand over the control of your glider and all your clothes."

"What?"

"You'll be given something suitable to wear after your purification and if you're cooperative, we'll let you into the sick ward," she replied in a deceptive tone.

"Strip."

"Who else is watching?" he asked lazily.

"No one."

"Then you're shutting down the monitor on your end. Let me at least strip in private." He began to undress, keeping his eyes focused toward her. She barely moved. Finally with a softly muttered curse, she turned her back. "Don't you think purification is a bit harsh? I've done nothing wrong, nor am I here without a pass. Did you go through the proper channels?" His grin evaporated as he realized just what awaited him if she carried out her promise. He clenched down hard on his jaw, battling the rapid escalation of his temper.

He faced the monitor even as the door behind him slid open. "We'll see how cooperative you are, Savage. Go with the guards," she suggested softly. About to turn away again, he stopped her.

"Babe, I've come here seeking to help. Why?"

"You've no proof of genetic immunity. It's for your own safety," she replied quickly. "Unless you want to submit to the tests and still face purification, you will go with them quietly. I'd hoped you'd be more cooperative."

He stared, his temper simmering once more, while one man came forward attempting to take his arm. He stepped away.

She was watching him now, not doing this herself yet making sure it was done. There were, he noticed, cameras the length of the tunnel. He began to walk. The concrete floor was cold beneath his bare feet, yet he fought the fire that surged within.

Two more guards joined them, each with a gun. His eyes narrowed but he had nowhere to direct his anger. He hoped she saw the look on his face and was reading it accurately.

Then a gun butted him in the back, cold steel against naked flesh reminding him of his vulnerability. "Come on, Dr. Savage. We've a chamber ready for you."

She couldn't intend to go through with this! Sterilization would be more than enough to insure his immunity while he was here.

He speculated each of these doors must be a separate purification chamber. So which one was meant for him? One with a monitor, no doubt, so she could watch.

As he moved down the corridor, the cameras traced his path.

Remembering the one and only time he'd been through this before, a fine sheen of perspiration broke out on his body.

The guards started down another long corridor then they moved down a set of steps to a lower floor. He saw an open room, immediately recognizing the apparatus needed for what awaited him. And of course there was a camera. He stiffened.

His escort nodded toward the door even while they held back. Every muscle in his body tensed, automatically looking for escape, systematically checking out the interior of this room.

He stepped through the threshold. The door slammed shut. Then he bowed, mockingly to the camera at his wife. "I am at your mercy."

The monitor flashed on. Her face appeared before him but she did not relent, did not give the orders to have his fate changed.

Cameron assumed the torture would begin in a few moments. All the apparatus could be connected to his body by remote control and as he well knew, there was no escape once the door to the cubicle closed. It was well and tightly secured. Yet nothing happened. He was startled to discover that he remembered a long ago day in the woods when he'd threatened her with this fate. Revenge--so that was what she sought so diligently.

"If you choose to leave now, then you'll be spared."

He grinned, suddenly feeling in control once more. "Naked?" He heard a sharp hiss.

"There are clothes on the table," she told him. "Dress and you'll be allowed to leave."

He reached out, picking up the robe and examining it. "You expect me to wear this? I'd rather be purified." He leaned against the table, his arms crossed over his chest. The robe he let fall to the floor. Even the shadows created by the screen could not hide the subtle play of emotions crossing Victoria's face. It could not hide the astonishment she so openly revealed for a split second.

"What do you want?" she said with quiet aplomb. "So you've out-smarted me here. But it makes little difference. I will not allow you into the sick wards." She let the camera he was viewing sweep the room she was in. "Never mind that you think yourself invincible."

With an effort, he tamped down his anger which was rising once more and with even greater effort he tried to see this from her viewpoint, from a woman's perspective. But after considering it for a few seconds, he decided it was impossible.

"Give me my clothes, Victoria." She had found a way through his defenses. Now he resolved he would do the same to her. He had to. "Or are you afraid?"

When he looked back to the viewing screen, she was sipping something hot and watching him. Then she set down the cup, turning her attention his way once again.

"Don't be so self-assured. I can still give the command. All that stops me is Jonathan. But then I only intended it for your safety. Perhaps, Dr. Savage, you deserve this for all the times you tormented me," she said.

"Little one, I married you," he corrected her with a tone of endearment. "But a wife would care what happened to me, would move the heavens to keep me from the agony you are so eager to inflict."

"I just want you to live to see another day. What do you want?"

"Why don't you tell me," he insisted. Once again, his temper was threatening to overpower his rational thoughts as he worked on a way to disarm his wife. "I have never tormented you," he insisted, "and I've never lied."

"No?" Her face was flushed with anger and she leaned toward the screen. The monitor crackled then went dead. The room was bathed in silence. He wondered then just how long it would take Victoria to race down the steps to this room, wondered what she'd try next.

The door catapulted open and he was hit in the face with his clothes. He narrowed his eyes at her then smiled grimly. "Now you'd like me to dress? But I had other plans."

"You have tried to deny me all I hold close to my heart."

"I've given you free reign in the lab and the interior grounds surrounding Reding."

"You've had your lap dog following me from sunrise to sunset!"

He shrugged. "I'm truly not sorry."

She ignored him. "Then denied me access to research I've spent hours on only to find my husband's whore diligently going over the files."

"What on earth? My whore?"

His confusion seemed to infuriate her even more.

She pointed her gun at him, dangerously low, too low.

He forced himself not to move, to stand dead still until she maneuvered herself into a position he could take advantage of. And she would. His body tensed, ready to strike.

Her hand trembled, her trigger finger flinching against the mechanism. "How very strange you have no recollection of the gypsy woman. Perhaps I should put an end to any dalliances you might think to continue when you decide that my bed is not good enough for you."

"Babe," he promised softly, "you had best shoot now."

"You're so eager to loose your male endowments, Dr. Savage," she said. He sensed her hesitation. Damn it all. He'd thought this was about so much more than an imagined paramour. For a brief span of time, he'd thought she'd done this out of concern for his well-being.

"I'm eager to lose nothing and I've done nothing to deserve this blatant display of jealousy. But babe...I like you jealous."

"Why should I trust you now? Why should I believe you're immune? You've lied to me over and over again."

"Me?" he feigned innocence, hoping perhaps she did care and wondering what lies he'd told her.

"You!" she cried out, her voice simmering with emotion. "From the first time we met. You've never spoken a word of truth. You kidnapped me from the tower and--"

"Me? That was The Phantom." He grinned.

"My God, Savage, you are truly hopeless. How long must we go on with this silly charade?"

"How long would you like it to go on? You seem to be enamored with my larger-than-life alter ego. I truly think you'd be happy if I laced up my mask and took you that way. You don't seem to care for the real man that much."

"This is about your whore, Cameron, not your deception. I've forgiven you for that, at least for the time being."

He didn't believe her. Especially when she smiled with deliberate slowness.

"What is the point?"

"Tell me the truth for once, Phantom. Tell me carefully," she warned, waving the gun at him again. "Tell me why you seduced me."

"Who seduced whom?" he queried, his voice a very low whisper. "The woman who knew she was promised to another then sold her honor to a stranger?"

"Stop it, Cameron. I knew who you were. You can't blame me for that. I was confused. I was frightened."

"You? Frightened? You're incapable of fear. Who is the liar now?"

"I...."

"I can't tell you how much this pleases me," he said.

"Pleases you!"

"Yes. The mere thought pleases me immensely. I love you, you know," he returned, exasperated.

"You've a strange way of showing it." The monitor crackled to life. Surprised, she looked up.