She had barely finished her taunt when Morton pressed a button on the device and the collar around her neck began to sizzle. The next thing she knew a massive jolt of electricity speared through her body, nearly toppling her off the cot onto the cement floor.

“Shit,” she breathed.

“I did warn you.”

She clenched her teeth, imagining the pleasure of gutting the pasty-faced cur over and over and over... .

“What do you want with me?”

“I told you,” he scolded. “I’ve chosen you to be the mother of my children.”

“No doubt in your demented mind you think I should be honored by the offer, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take a pass.” Her stomach heaved at the mere thought. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Even prepared for the bolt of electricity, Sophia couldn’t halt her yip of pain, her legs trembling and sweat coating her skin.

“You will learn,” Morton growled.

Her hand weakly lifted toward the metal wrapped around her neck.

“Christ, where the hell did you get this thing?”

“I invented it myself,” the cur preened, as if expecting Sophia to admire his handiwork. “Just as I invented the serum that knocked you out. I’m a scientist.”

“So was Dr. Frankenstein,” she muttered. “You know how that turned out.”

Zap.

She leaned down until her forehead touched her knees, fighting against the urge to vomit.

“You will learn to respect me,” Morton abruptly shouted, clearly unhinged by her refusal to play the game by his rules.

Not surprising.

Morton-the-cur was a born victim who had no doubt been bullied and mocked by others his entire life.

“Why?” she demanded. “Because you can create torture devices?”

“That’s merely my hobby.” His smile was edged with a smug pride. “My true genius is chemistry. Which is why Caine hired me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

Caine was currently missing along with her daughter Cassandra.

At one time he’d been under the sway of a demon lord who’d convinced him that he was destined to change curs into pure-blooded Weres.

A part of the prophecy had come true when the same demon lord had taken a path directly through Caine on his way back to hell, transforming him from a cur into a Were.

“You worked with Caine?”

The cur shrugged. “Yes, although we disagreed on how to accomplish our goal to turn curs into pure-blooded Weres.”

“And how did you hope to accomplish such a miracle?”

She expected him to refuse to answer. Weren’t mad scientists usually secretive about their strange experiments?

Instead he answered without hesitation.

“In the same way your king did.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I intend to alter the DNA of our children while they are still in your womb.”

“You ...”

Words failed her, her mind refusing to return to those long days in Salvatore’s clinic. She’d been a willing participant and it had still been near unbearable. With an effort she squashed the rising panic. She would die before she allowed this freak to impregnate her. First, however, she would try to reason with him.

“Even supposing that you do manage to change our children into Weres, how does that help the other curs?” she asked.

His eyes lit with the gleam of a true fanatic. “I can use their blood to help create a vaccine that will transform all of us.”

She shook her head, not about to try and point out to Dr. Evil that the magic that created a pure-blooded Were couldn’t be found in a test tube. It was always futile to argue with a true believer.

“Why me?” she instead asked.

“You’ve already proven yourself to be a fertile breeder.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

He seemed caught off guard by her response. “I mean that with the greatest respect.”

Said the psycho to his electrified prisoner.

“And?” she prompted, knowing there had to be more.

“And when you moved into the neighborhood I realized that fate had at last smiled upon me,” he admitted. “Why else would you be here if not to fulfill my destiny?”

Great. Of all the neighborhoods she could have chosen, she had to pick the one with Morton-the-crazy-ass-cur.

“Have you considered the fact that I might not be willing to become your lab rat?”

“I’ll admit that it’s been a concern,” he said. “I hated the thought of holding you prisoner down here for months, perhaps even years. I’m not a monster, after all.”

She choked back a laugh at his seeming sincerity. “You could have fooled me.”

He ignored her response, moving toward the small stool in the corner of the barren cell to pick up a heavy leather glove.

“Then a solution literally dropped in my lap.”

Sophia’s wolf was on full alert although the serum still pumping through her bloodstream refused to allow her to shift.

“What solution?”

Using his gloved hand, the cur reached for the small handle on the wall, pulling back the silver panel to reveal that the cell was divided in two.

Sophia hissed in sudden horror as she caught sight of the dark Were lying unconscious on the floor, a silver collar around his neck that was attached to the heavy chain bolted to the wall.

Luc.

Stupidly she’d assumed that he was waiting for her at her home. Perhaps even now wondering why she was so late.

For a moment panic threatened to consume her.

He might be a deceitful bastard who had broken her heart, but the thought that he might be dead was enough to send a crippling agony through her.

Then through her pain, she detected the unmistakable beat of his heart.

Oh ... thank the gods.

He was alive.

She turned her head to stab the cur with a fierce glare. “What have you done to him?”

“I gave him the same drug I used on you, although in a considerably larger dose.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’ll eventually wake up.”

Sophia sensed the sudden increase in Luc’s heartbeat.

He was awake, she abruptly realized, but feigning unconsciousness. A task made possible by Morton’s inferior senses.

She smoothed her expression, inwardly gathering her strength. Although she was still weak, she knew she would have to strike swiftly. The amount of silver in the room would drain what little power she had remaining in a matter of hours.

“What’s the point of holding him prisoner?” she demanded. “I’m fairly certain he can’t carry your litter.”

“My first thought was to kill him,” he admitted, his voice revealing his deep regret in being denied the pleasure. “Not only because I knew that he’d be a threat to my plans, but because he’s a genuine pain in the ass.” He heaved a sigh. “Then I realized he could be my assurance for your good behavior.”

Shit.

With an effort, she forced herself to pretend confusion as she shakily rose to her feet. She needed to distract him just long enough to get that damned device out of his hand.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m not blind.” His lips thinned in revulsion. “I saw how you watched him during your party.”

“He’s gorgeous.” She shrugged. “How could I not watch him?”

“You care for him,” he insisted, the crimson flickering in his eyes. “Which means you’ll do whatever I ask to make sure he eventually gets out of this basement alive.”

“You’re right.” She gave a wave of her hand to distract from her covert step forward.

He sniffed. “Of course I am.”

“You’re right that I did care for him.” Another wave, another step. “Past tense.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then call Troy.”

He frowned. “The imp?”

“Yep.” She turned to glare at the unmoving Were, not having to feign her simmering anger. “Right before you went all Man vs. Wild on me in the parking lot, he revealed that Luc had lied to me.”

Watching him with an eagle eye, she easily caught the faint twitch of his ears.

Guilty conscience?

Or annoyance at having been busted?

“What was the lie?” Morton wanted to know.

She pointed a finger toward Luc, again taking a step forward. Just a few more feet and she would be close enough to knock his ass to the ground.

She didn’t have a plan after that, but she was willing to play it by ear.

“He’s not a bodyguard like he told me,” she revealed. “He’s a right-hand man to Salvatore and he was sent to Chicago to spy on me.”

Morton scowled, obviously reluctant to believe her. Her outrage at Luc’s betrayal did, after all, ruin his diabolical plans. But even a stupid cur could sense the sincerity of her angry words.

“Why would the king wish to spy on you?”

“He obviously believes I’m too stupid to make my own decisions,” she snapped. “An opinion shared by that Were lying on the floor.” She moved toward the cur, keeping her steps slow and unsteady, as if she was having trouble with her balance. “So if you hope to use him as a bargaining chip then you’re shit out of luck, because as far as I’m concerned you can dig his grave and toss him in.”