1
KIAN
Fifty-three hours had passed since the raids, and forty-nine since it had been confirmed that there was no fifth terror nest lurking somewhere in Los Angeles. Now was the time for a deeper dive, but as Kian observed the prisoner through the two-way mirror in the interrogation room, he wasn't sure they would be able to get anything coherent out of the Doomer.
The deterioration in his condition was remarkable.
"How long has he been twitching like that?" Kian asked Theo, who was in charge of the dungeon in Max's absence.
"About fifteen hours." Theo rose to his feet. "Julian says he's suffering withdrawal symptoms. Even the sedatives are not helping. All the Doomers we captured this time have been twitching like that, some worse than others, and they don't sleep unless we sedate them. Soras here seems more affected than the others, but he also seems to be more intelligent than average, which is uncommon for rank-and-file Doomers."
That was why Kian had chosen to interrogate this specific Doomer again, but it might be necessary to wait until he stabilized.
The prisoner was shackled to a metal chair that was bolted down, which was the only reason he was still seated and not sprawled and twitching on the floor. His head was lolling forward, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his bare feet kept tapping manically on the concrete. The same compulsive movement was happening with his hands, which he was fisting and relaxing just as obsessively.
"What is he on?" Toven asked. "Did Julian find out?"
The doctor had taken blood samples shortly after the prisoners had been delivered to the keep, so he'd had enough time to analyze the results, but some were so bizarre that Julian needed help from Kaia to decipher them, and they were still working on that.
"The blood work came back." Kian pulled out his phone and started scrolling until he found the email from the doctor. "The drug cocktail is powerful, designed for immortal physiology. I don't understand half of what Julian wrote here, but there is something about amphetamine derivatives at doses that would kill a human. We're talking twenty times the lethal threshold. He also mentions synthetic adrenaline compounds that resist our naturally accelerated metabolism, along with neural enhancers that should cause permanent damage but somehow don't." He looked up. "There were several compounds Julian couldn't identify at all because the molecular structures don't exist in any database. Kaia is working on that."
Toven rubbed a hand over his jaw. "They must have a specialist working for them."
"Obviously." Kian pocketed his phone. "Shall we have a chat with the prisoner about who that mystery scientist is?"
Toven nodded. "That could shed some light on what we are dealing with, but given the state the guy is in, I'm not sure we will get anything useful out of him."
As they entered the cell, the Doomer's head snapped up, his eyes struggling to focus. The twitching intensified, muscles spasming beneath his skin as if they were trying to escape.
"Withdrawal is hitting you hard," Kian said, taking a seat at a safe distance from the metal chair. "How long since your last dose?"
"Too long." The Doomer's lips pulled back from his teeth—not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. "Worth it. The gifts... bestowed only on the select who... who…" His voice came out rough, breaking on certain words. "The chemist. You couldn't... couldn't understand. Weak. All of you are weak. Weak?—"
A violent convulsion cut off his words, his body straining against the shackles hard enough to make the bolts groan and welts rise on his skin.
The drugs must have impaired Soras's mind, or maybe it was the withdrawal, but either way, Kian had a feeling he wouldn't be much use to them. Not until his body adjusted to the lack of stimulants.
"You mentioned the chemist." Toven's tone was commanding but without that special resonance that carried compulsion. "Tell us about him. Or is it a her?"
The Doomer laughed or tried to. It came out as more of a wheeze. "Females are vapid and incapable of scientific thought.No female could… Brilliant. He's so brilliant. Making us... better. Stronger. The Brotherhood's future."
So far, the Doomer hadn't tried to resist direct questions, so Toven hadn't used compulsion on him, and Kian wondered if the drugs were responsible for the guy's loose tongue.
"What's his name?" Toven asked.
"No!" The Doomer's head twisted side to side, muscles straining as if against invisible bonds.
"Look into my eyes," Toven commanded, this time using compulsion.
The Doomer kept shaking his head.
"Interesting," Toven murmured. "He's managing to resist."
"I said, look at me." The god increased the pressure.
The Doomer's head snapped forward, eyes locking with Toven's, pupils so dilated that they were black pools in bloodshot whites.
"That is much better," Toven said. "What is the chemist's name?"
