Wild Thing (54 page)

'Well, no, but I knew you-'

'In a sense, Leeth, you raped me,' Harmon declared, somehow keeping a perfectly solemn expression on his face – even, perhaps, managing to convey disappointment at his ward's unfair behavior.

'That's…. But… but you
wanted
to, Keepie!  I know you did!'

'True, Leeth.  True.  You are a very attractive young woman.  Practically irresistible.  That is not the issue, however.  The problem is that what we did was illegal.'

'Huh?  Why?  I know people sex each other!  Half the net is full of it.  Well, maybe a quarter.  There
are
a lot of cats, too.'

'It's your age that makes it illegal, Leeth.  Nothing else.  You are under-age.  I could be sent to jail because you raped me.'

Oh yes, very clever, Alex.  B
ut one day she'll learn the truth, and there will be hell to pay.
  He struggled to let none of his inner shame show.  If only he dared erase her memory of it.  Perhaps one day.  When she was older…

'But I didn't- and anyway, even if I did, why would they send
you
to prison instead of
me?
'

She was so upset she didn't even notice him delicately drape the Suggestion spell over her mind.

'
Because
you are under-age, Leeth.  The Law – which protects the sheep, the gray people – sees you as a child, irresponsible.  In need of protection and not answerable for your actions.  I, on the other hand, am considered an adult by the Law and have no such legal trickery to protect me.'

'But that's not
fair
– I made you do it, Keepie!'

Her eyes were watering, and that on top of what he was doing now, made him feel physically sick.  How was this different to drugging her?  But it was necessary, until he could adjust her to fit into normal society.

'True, but no one would ever believe that, Leeth.  They would say I tricked you, or coerced you.  Especially as I'm a trained psychologist.  They would say I had “groomed you” to make you act that way.'

'That's stupid!'

'Yes, Leeth.  It is.  But that is what would happen.'

She was silent for a long time, then, clearly thinking; while inside, his shame burned the brighter.  At the misuse of her trust; at the abuse of her naivety.  But at the same time, he felt a sick relief.  Shame warred with self-interest. 
But were we separated, who would understand her as I do?
he asked himself.  Who else could hope to control her?

'So that's what Jax meant?'

'Yes.  I gather you have been pushing him, as you did me?'

'Yeah.  And I
almost
convinced him, too.'

Harmon shook his head portentously.  'That's very bad.  If you did, and it became known, he would be sent to jail.  Likely, then, it would come out about our own lovemaking last year, too, and I also would be sent to prison.  And Brian Shanahan, too.'

Leeth looked stricken.

'Although… perhaps…?'  He trailed off.

'Perhaps what, Keepie?'

'Perhaps I could devise some exercises for you, in self-restraint?  I dare say I could design some mental training which would strengthen your willpower; enable you to control your sexual urges so you would be less of a danger to those closest to you.'

Now, parts of him were screaming.  This next step was too far.  But stress was a necessity.  She was the steel he forged: he was the blacksmith; her pain the fire and hammer; her spirit the anvil.

'Would you like me to prepare a mental strengthening regime for you?'

'Oh, Keepie, yes!  Would you?'

'Very well.  But I must warn you, it won't be easy.  You may have to suffer.  Are you prepared to endure real hardships, just to improve your strength of will, to protect those who care about you?'

'Of course.  It sounds ultra!'

He felt sick.  This was wrong.  So very wrong.

But a darker part of him whispered:
it's for her own good.  Who knows what further talents she might not develop?
  He would just have to be careful.  Remain clinical.

'Hmm.  Do I gather from your body language that you are feeling quite worked up, even aroused, right now?'

She nodded, chewing her lip.

'Well, perhaps we could begin tonight.  Let me think…  Ah, I have it!  A simple exercise, to start with: get up on my desk, Leeth.  On all fours.  Your task will simply be to stay still.  Do you think you can do that?'

'Sure!'

She nimbly hopped up onto his desk.

Deep in her psyche, Harmon found the worn and abraded links that connected her fears to her stress systems, and began unlinking and re-linking those systems to different parts of her psyche.  Yes, this looked an excellent source of pressure to advance her Unfolding.

And given that her magic seemed to be directed entirely inward, into her own physical and mental abilities… 
Yes, this should work well.

He would just have to be careful.

Chapter 63 

She
hated
the new lessons.  They were horrible and confusing and at the end she always felt like she was about to explode.  She was never quite sure whether she wanted to sex her uncle, or hurt him. 
But that was the point
, he'd say:
she had to learn to control herself.

She flinched, but otherwise held herself still as the cane struck again.

But, kneeling on his bed in the horrid “schoolgirl outfit,” with her hands tied, she heard his outer office door slowly open and then several pairs of feet quietly entering.  They paused, then moved stealthily toward his bedroom.  She craned her neck around to her uncle, her head frantically nodding toward the doorway.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door, then she heard a faint tap as something pressed against it.

'What do you hear?' her uncle asked.

She spat out the ball gag.  'There's a whole bunch of people right outside!'

Before her uncle could react, the door leading to his bedroom burst open and men with guns poured in.  Not just men: Jax was there, and those two cops who hated her: the fat one and the huge one.  As well as two other men with guns.  From the speed with which the huge one darted across the room to cover her and her uncle, she didn't even need to hear the ultrasonics of his cyborg muscles to know he was in full combat mode.

The fat one – the mage – was the one she'd have to deal with first, though.  Mages were always the trickiest.  But why was Jax here?  And why did he have a gun?  And why wouldn't he meet her eyes?

All six men were staring at her, then their gazes went to Uncle standing behind her with the cane.

Oh, no, this must look really bad for poor Keepie!
  She could feel her face blush bright red.  She wanted to slice through the ropes and explain, but it was already too late.

The huge cyborg spoke.  'Detective Adam Garland, New Francisco metro police.  I would advise you against resisting arrest, Dr Harmon.'

She heard her uncle's in-drawn breath, and the sound as he fell back into the chair by his bedside.  She saw one of the other men move to her left, to keep him covered.

Jax stood in the doorway, as if expecting them to run; and then the fat cop, the mage, moved up to her and flipped open a small blade, and began cutting her free.  She got ready to make her move.

She heard her uncle gasp and straighten; heard him whisper, just for her: 'Leeth, don't-'

The man to her left shot Keepie.

For a moment she froze, disbelieving. 
“Leeth, don't-"

Don't what? 
Don't let them take me
, of course!

She heard his breath sigh out.  She twisted in the fat cop's arms as he continued to cut the ropes around her knees.  And saw her uncle on the floor.

Unmoving.

She felt her heart stop. 
They'd
killed
Keepie!

It only took a moment to break the mage's neck, and at the loud
crack
they all looked at her.  Now what? 
O
h!  They'll have read the reports about the attacks, and Her!
  Maybe she could
trick
them?

As the fat mage collapsed at her feet, she screamed, staring into the doorway and pointing to where Jax stood.  She visualised
Her
there, sliding into the room, coiling around Jax.  It wasn't hard to remember the fear she'd felt back in Godsson's cell.  Still staring in terror at Jax in the doorway, she scrambled off the bed and to her left.  Working her way closer to the man who'd killed her Keepie.

'Stop it, keep it away,' she begged as she moved toward him, as if she thought he could protect her.  He just stared from her, to the doorway, then back to her, confused.

Good.

One of the other police turned, gun aiming down at the floor as he scanned the doorway, trying to see whatever she was seeing, sidling around to put himself between her and Jax in the doorway, backing toward her to cover her.

Now.

'No!' she screamed out, staring in horror at Jax and throwing up her hands as if
he'd
just done something.  The man angling back toward her got close enough: as fast and as hard as she could, she punched him
once
,
twice
in the kidneys, feeling things rupture.

Backing away from that man, now toppling in front of her, brought her to her next target: the man who'd killed Keepie.  Feeling behind her, her hand made contact, and she clutched at his clothes as if in fear, pressing back against his front.

But the others were no longer fooled.  She saw their guns already tracking toward her.  Bracing her shoulders, her back still pressed up against the front of the man behind her, she
jumped.
  Just a small jump, but she felt her head strike his chin as he now half-held her.  Heard the
crack
from his neck
.

The big cyborg fired, but she was already spinning around behind her latest sagging enemy, grabbing him around the stomach to take his weight as he slumped against her, using him as a shield.

She had to take down the cyborg next.  It was just him and Jax left.  After Jax, she'd make Dr Simmons heal Keepie.

Something stung her shin, then another in the arm she had around the man she was holding up, and suddenly the room wavered into darkness.

She didn't even have time for a last thought.

Chapter 64 

Detective Garland, watching at the rear of the gurney they'd handcuffed the girl to, saw her stir, saw her eyelids flutter.

Her lips moved.  'Keep-y.'

She blinked, her head falling to one side.  Her pupils were dilated, and he saw her hunch forwards and her cheeks puff out as if she was about to heave. 
She shouldn't be coming around yet!

'Move it,' Garland ordered the PI, Jackson Stark, as he lowered his end from the foot of the stairwell.

They'd entered the final length of corridor leading to the front doors.  From outside, flashing lights splashed red and blue through the glass doors.

The girl seemed to recognize the ceiling above her, and he saw her wrists and ankles jerk against the metal cuffs.

Then she froze, her eyes going wide, and she lunged upwards, all four chains snapping taut.  He heard metal groaning, saw one hand dragging impossibly up as the metal rod it was fastened to
bent
, the chain biting into her wrist – but he was already drawing his gun.  She lunged sideways, spoiling his shot and forcing him to grab the trolley, fighting to stop it tipping all the way over.  Stark cried out, going for his weapon.

Garland fired, but she twisted again, the trolley partly shielding her, and he heard the tranq
spang
against its metal.  She cried out, the same weird thing – 'Keepy' – as she tore at her unyielding metal bonds, trying to tug the trolley over her for protection, still wrenching at the cuffs.  He saw a link start to part.

What the
fuck
?

Crouching down, aiming carefully, he shot again.  This time it struck, and a second later she slumped unconscious again.

Stark began wrestling the gurney back upright, the dead weight of the girl making it difficult.  '
Jesus!
  I thought she was about to get free!'

Garland said nothing, just watched to make sure she wasn't playing possum.  Finally, holstering his tranq pistol, he stepped up to the end of the gurney and flipped it upright, dragging the girl cuffed to it by her wrists and ankles back into view.  She flopped limply.

'You said you put two darts into her, up there, Garland.'

'I did,
Stark
.'

'Jesus, look at her wrists.  She's bleeding pretty badly.'

'Yeah, well, she should've thought of that before she tried to snap the cuffs.  Stupid bitch.  There's a first-aid kit in the lock-up.  We'll spray her with quick-seal.'  He motioned Stark forward and began pushing the trolley again.  'What'd she mean by “Keepy”?  What's that?'

'I think that's what she sometimes called her uncle.  Dr Harmon.'  Stark paced ahead and to one side, his own sleeper pistol now out and ready.  He kept one eye on Sara as if he expected her to start lunging up again like a wild animal.  'Oh.  Shit: she thinks we
killed
him.'  Stark's eyes met Garland's.  '
That's
why she went crazy.  Back in his office, and again just now.  You think that might be considered extenuating-?'

Detective Garland snorted.  'I don't even know she's
human
.  Who knows what kind of crazy shit goes on here?  I still have her pegged as the perp for two killings a year ago at the Golden Gate Park, bugger what the DNA evidence says.  I reckon her shithead Uncle altered the DNA magically.  I'm gonna test her again.'

He moved to the side, examining the chains on the cuffs. 
Jesus
.  One wrist was torn down to the bone, but she'd bent the cuff, and one of the links had indeed opened.  He shook his head in disbelief. 
Freak.