|Home > Lora Leigh > Bengal's Heart|
And now he was gone.
“And Brandenmore and Engalls?” Jonas questioned him. “Tell me what you know about their part in the hunts and the Genetics Council.”
There was two hours’ worth of information. Douglas didn’t pause, he didn’t argue or hide anything. Any question Jonas had, he answered. He was broken. There was no fight left in him because there was no longer a chance of escape, no longer a chance of enjoying the brutal games he had once enjoyed.
When Douglas had finished, Jonas turned off the recorder and rose to his feet. Douglas lifted his head then, his gaze piercing.
“You promised.” His voice was rough. Raw. “You promised I’d die if I told you everything. You promised mercy, Wyatt.”
He had. And he’d lied.
Jonas stared back at him coldly. “You don’t deserve mercy, Douglas.”
“And you do?” There was no anger, no rage, just dejection. “Kill me. You swore you would.”
Douglas stared back at him as his eyes filled with tears. Jonas watched as the liquid overflowed, and wondered at the small spike of regret he felt.
“They know who you are,” Douglas whispered. “They know what you are. They’ll destroy you and all of your kind, Jonas. And you’ll deserve it.”
At that, Jonas could only quirk his lips ruefully. “They might destroy me, Douglas, but never the Breeds as a whole. Haven’t you figured it out yet? We’re here to stay.”
“You’ll die,” Douglas predicted.
“And of that, I have no doubt.”
With those parting words, Jonas left the room, closed the door behind him and walked the long expanse of hall back to the control room.
Douglas’s screams followed him. Enraged now, finally. Filled with pain, filled with broken, hollow anger. And Jonas had no mercy.
He was created to know no mercy. He was created to know no love. He was created to destroy his entire species, and he was damned if he would allow that to happen.