“Hey!” one of the men yelled.

Becca jerked from her thoughts to glance up. One of them scooted closer, staring at her with narrowed blue eyes.

“You might want to move away. We have to shoot him again. Doc Elsa wants you awake and alert when we get there. Besides, one hit of this shit and you’d die from an overdose.”

The man pointed the gun and Becca edged away as far from Brawn as she could get. She yanked the dart out of him and dropped it behind her the second that she hid the area with her body when she leaned against him again on the off chance it prevented him from getting a full dose of the obvious tranquilizer.

They shot him a few more times as time passed. She removed them as quickly as possible without rousing suspicion and worry set in. They were going to kill him with an overdose. She tried to talk them out of it but they refused to listen. His pulse remained steady and she pressed her ear to his heart, reassured when it continued to beat strongly under her ear. His big body kept her warm as the miles passed, taking her far from home.

Fear was instantaneous when the van finally stopped and the engine died. She sat up and felt pain. The thick bars of the cage under her ass made her backside hurt after no movement for an extended time. The feeling of pins and needles spread across one side of her ass and up her hip. The men exited the van to leave her alone with Brawn.

She reached for his face, cupped it and rubbed. “Brawn? Can you hear me? Wake up!” She made sure she kept her voice low.

He didn’t stir at all and she started when the van doors were thrown open behind her. Her hands left Brawn’s face as she turned to glare at the five men who stepped close to the back of the cage door. One unlocked and yanked it open. He withdrew one a dart gun and pointed it at her chest.

“Get out,” he ordered.

She had to fight the stiffness in her body to move. She climbed out and her bare feet touched cold, hard concrete. She peered at the large room that reminded her of a warehouse with the super-high ceiling and exposed metal beams. There were a few large windows near the ceiling along the sides. A hand grabbed her arm and led her away from the van.

She turned her head to watch the four men lift Brawn by each of his limbs. He dangled in their hold, his long hair brushed the floor and they carried him toward a stairwell across the room. To see Brawn, a man his size, that helpless, drove fear right back into Becca. She swallowed and wondered what kind of hell she would face.

The man gripping her arm jerked hard, forcing her to follow Brawn and she hurried her step. She didn’t want to lose sight of him. The stairs were wide and metal, leading down into a near darkness below. Her gaze flashed upward to the windows. The sight of sunshine assured her they’d traveled for at least three and a half hours.

Claustrophobia batted at her as they traveled down at least three dark flights of stairs, going deeper into the bowels of the warehouse. Only a few light bulbs illuminated the way for her to see the steps. The air grew noticeably cooler at each landing. She hated that—it notched up her fear but Brawn remained in sight.

The bottom level ended in two big metal doors that the men pushed open while carrying Brawn between them. The sight that met Becca’s fearful gaze made her halt in her tracks. The room was large but bright, long lights hung from the ceiling. They showed two large cages clearly in the center of the room, set about ten feet apart. The things were massive, something that should be found in a zoo instead of the basement of a warehouse and the guy gripping her arm yanked hard.

“Move.”

She got a better view of the room as she entered the double doors. Other cages were set up along the walls and it horrified her to see a few inhabitants inside them. Someone lay on a bunk while another man paced the length of the bars. His head whipped around and she gasped, identifying a New Species face.

They had more of them. That realization left her cold. Concrete walls separated those cells along the walls—they were bigger than the ones in the middle of the room and much longer. The guy holding her led her to a cage, opened the door and shoved her inside. He let go to slam the door and lock her in.

Brawn was dumped inside the second cage to her right, his body made the cot creak when it took his weight and the four men fled. They not only locked the door but used chains to wrap around a few sections with chunky locks securing them.

The kidnappers removed their masks as they walked out of her sight through a twin set of double doors near the ones she’d entered. The silence in the huge room was spooky, absolute and she turned to study her prison.

A cot had been set up, a camp toilet placed in the corner and folded blankets had been left on the long bed. She stared at the metal floor under her feet, lifted her chin to look up at the bars overhead and fought tears. Think. Remain calm. Those silent orders helped as she carefully took stock of her surroundings past the bars.

It wasn’t hard to spot the cameras aimed in her direction once she scanned the ceiling. They were larger models, geared for outdoor security and a concrete wall blocked her view of whatever was behind her prison. It wasn’t that high, maybe ten feet of divider, but more than enough to keep her curious about what she couldn’t see.

Her hands gripped the thick, cool bars and she studied them. No signs of rust showed at the joints and she doubted they’d ever seen the outside to be exposed to the elements. She inched to the door, saw the gap was nearly nonexistent and it had been well built. A metal plate covered the section far enough to make it impossible for her to reach around and attempt to pick the lock. The inside part of the door lock was totally sealed, without any key access. It told her one thing for sure. They hadn’t been designed to hold animals. A shiver sliced down her spine.

Becca got as close to Brawn’s cage as she could, staring at his facedown form. His chest rose and fell, assuring her that he still lived. The drugs they’d dosed him with worried her. She couldn’t see how anyone wouldn’t overdose on all those tranquilizers.

“Brawn?” She cleared her throat. “Please wake up! Can you hear me?”

A growl from across the room jerked her head in that direction to see the pacing male had moved to the corner of his cell, gripped the bars and glared at her. He had really long black hair to his waist—a wild mass of tangled, silky strands—but she couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. Just the shape of them and those pronounced full lips and wide cheekbones assured her of his altered DNA.

“I’m Becca,” she got out, hoping he’d talk to her. “How long have you been here?”

He growled again, a scary, deep sound. He wasn’t exactly the talkative type, she decided. Not real friendly either. She wasn’t about to give up though. The more information she gained the better the chances of figuring a way out of the nightmare she was living.

“Can you talk?” She released the bars and touched her chest. “Becca.” She pointed to him. “What is your name?”

He spun away, snarled and kept pacing. She gave up instantly on trying to learn anything from him. She did study his clothes—white pants with wide, thick seams running down the sides and that’s all he wore. His chest was massive, his arms thickly muscled and his fingers were clawed at his side. Something seemed to have agitated him from the way he stalked back and forth. Her focus returned to Brawn.

“Brawn!” Her voice rose sharply. “Wake up, damn it!”

His arm twitched, gave her hope and she pressed tightly to the bars. “Brawn? Open your eyes right now! I’m worried about you. You’ve been heavily drugged and need to fight it. Can you hear me? It’s Becca. Remember me? We live together. Brawn!”