“You want me to talk?”
“That would be a nice change. Yes.”
“Make the guard leave. I’m not opening up to anyone but you. I read about patient confidentiality. I want that.”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “All the guards are sworn to keep our sessions private. He’s not allowed to repeat anything he hears. He’s present because I’m a woman. It’s for our mutual protection.”
“You believe I’m going to kill you.” He frowned. “Or do you think I’ll pick you up, tear off your clothes and mount you against the wall?” He smirked as his gaze lowered down her body. “A fishing reference I learned on last month’s mandatory trip comes to mind—I’d toss you back for being too small. It wouldn’t be any fun for me. You’d break if I f**ked something so fragile.”
“Watch your mouth and show some respect,” the guard ordered, taking a threatening step forward.
Joy was a little taken aback by 466’s crude words but it was the most she’d ever heard him say at one time. She lifted her hand to stop the guard from interfering again. She dropped her palm flat on her desk.
“Leave us.” She glanced at the guard.
“No way, Dr. Yards, this guy is unstable.”
“He’s talking at least. Get out. You can wait down the hall in reception.”
466 obviously tried to hide his surprise but failed. He schooled his features quickly though and recovered his composed expression. “You’ll hear her scream if I attack. Leave.”
The guard shook his head.
Irritation flared inside Joy. There were only a few male guards at Site Four but they never took orders well. “This is my office and the way I conduct my sessions are my decision. Shut the door on your way out and wait down the hall. You will be close enough to get here if there’s a problem. That’s a direct order, not a request.”
“Fine.” The guard spun, stomped out and slammed the door behind him.
Joy studied 466. “We’re alone now. Talk to me. Why don’t you play sports?”
He blinked a few times as the silence stretched.
“You said you’d talk if we were alone. We are. You don’t strike me as the type of man who goes back on his word.”
“How would you know?”
“I talk to a lot of New Species. They are very proud and respect honesty.”
His hands released the arms of his chair and he crossed his arms over his chest again. “They don’t interest me. This is a human thing and I’m not.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a man either. I’m male.”
“You’re a hybrid human.”
“I’m an animal in human form.”
She always found it fascinating that New Species differentiated themselves from humans. The lines were firmly drawn inside their minds. It helped her understand them all a little better. 466 was even more adamant than most Species.
466 had resentment issues and that was healthy, considering he’d been held prisoner his entire life after being created with mixed DNA by a drug company who’d used his people as research subjects. Mercile Industries had somehow managed to merge animal and human genetics into living, breathing individuals.
“Is that why you’ve refused to choose a new name and kept your number instead?”
“Do I look like a Doug, Thomas, or Carl to you?” An eyebrow lifted. “Do I appear normal?”
She caught the hint of pain that flashed in his eyes and it made her hurt with him. It also broke her heart and horrified her when she heard stories the survivors shared about how they’d been treated at Mercile Industries. No one deserved the hellish lives they’d led until they had been discovered and rescued. No compassion, not even sympathy, had been shown them. They were numbers with no basic human rights. Lab rats.
Her gaze traveled over his features. There were slight differences that would always set him apart from typical humans. The facial bones were more pronounced in the cheeks and chins of the New Species. Their noses also seemed wider and a bit flatter than normal. A lot of them had fuller lips and fang-like teeth. The shapes of their eyes could reflect an individual’s distinct animal ancestry.
466 had a rugged appeal about him but he’d always draw attention if he attempted to walk around in society. Everyone would notice he wasn’t quite “normal”. She inwardly winced, remembering the debate she’d had with her boss the first week after she’d arrived. It had been more of a heated argument. They’d discussed the prospect of offering plastic surgery to the victims. Joy had taken the position that it would only traumatize them more. Her boss believed it would help them fit into society if they had the opportunity to change their looks.
Was I wrong? She bit her lip. Maybe offering them the chance to correct some of their facial anomalies should be on the table. She just believed they’d been messed with enough. It also seemed somehow offensive to her. No one should have to change their appearance to fit into mainstream society. Of course, it wasn’t up to her to make those decisions. That was way above her pay grade. She wouldn’t bring it up to any of the victims until someone decided whether it was appropriate. 466 and her other clients were attractive, even beautiful, to her. They were unique and special, perfect just the way they were.
“Well, do I?” His voice deepened, drawing her out of her musings. “Can you see calling me Tom instead of 466?”
“No, and I’m guessing you’re some form of canine species. It may set you apart from others but I don’t believe that’s a bad thing.”
“That would be a nice change. Yes.”
“Make the guard leave. I’m not opening up to anyone but you. I read about patient confidentiality. I want that.”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “All the guards are sworn to keep our sessions private. He’s not allowed to repeat anything he hears. He’s present because I’m a woman. It’s for our mutual protection.”
“You believe I’m going to kill you.” He frowned. “Or do you think I’ll pick you up, tear off your clothes and mount you against the wall?” He smirked as his gaze lowered down her body. “A fishing reference I learned on last month’s mandatory trip comes to mind—I’d toss you back for being too small. It wouldn’t be any fun for me. You’d break if I f**ked something so fragile.”
“Watch your mouth and show some respect,” the guard ordered, taking a threatening step forward.
Joy was a little taken aback by 466’s crude words but it was the most she’d ever heard him say at one time. She lifted her hand to stop the guard from interfering again. She dropped her palm flat on her desk.
“Leave us.” She glanced at the guard.
“No way, Dr. Yards, this guy is unstable.”
“He’s talking at least. Get out. You can wait down the hall in reception.”
466 obviously tried to hide his surprise but failed. He schooled his features quickly though and recovered his composed expression. “You’ll hear her scream if I attack. Leave.”
The guard shook his head.
Irritation flared inside Joy. There were only a few male guards at Site Four but they never took orders well. “This is my office and the way I conduct my sessions are my decision. Shut the door on your way out and wait down the hall. You will be close enough to get here if there’s a problem. That’s a direct order, not a request.”
“Fine.” The guard spun, stomped out and slammed the door behind him.
Joy studied 466. “We’re alone now. Talk to me. Why don’t you play sports?”
He blinked a few times as the silence stretched.
“You said you’d talk if we were alone. We are. You don’t strike me as the type of man who goes back on his word.”
“How would you know?”
“I talk to a lot of New Species. They are very proud and respect honesty.”
His hands released the arms of his chair and he crossed his arms over his chest again. “They don’t interest me. This is a human thing and I’m not.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a man either. I’m male.”
“You’re a hybrid human.”
“I’m an animal in human form.”
She always found it fascinating that New Species differentiated themselves from humans. The lines were firmly drawn inside their minds. It helped her understand them all a little better. 466 was even more adamant than most Species.
466 had resentment issues and that was healthy, considering he’d been held prisoner his entire life after being created with mixed DNA by a drug company who’d used his people as research subjects. Mercile Industries had somehow managed to merge animal and human genetics into living, breathing individuals.
“Is that why you’ve refused to choose a new name and kept your number instead?”
“Do I look like a Doug, Thomas, or Carl to you?” An eyebrow lifted. “Do I appear normal?”
She caught the hint of pain that flashed in his eyes and it made her hurt with him. It also broke her heart and horrified her when she heard stories the survivors shared about how they’d been treated at Mercile Industries. No one deserved the hellish lives they’d led until they had been discovered and rescued. No compassion, not even sympathy, had been shown them. They were numbers with no basic human rights. Lab rats.
Her gaze traveled over his features. There were slight differences that would always set him apart from typical humans. The facial bones were more pronounced in the cheeks and chins of the New Species. Their noses also seemed wider and a bit flatter than normal. A lot of them had fuller lips and fang-like teeth. The shapes of their eyes could reflect an individual’s distinct animal ancestry.
466 had a rugged appeal about him but he’d always draw attention if he attempted to walk around in society. Everyone would notice he wasn’t quite “normal”. She inwardly winced, remembering the debate she’d had with her boss the first week after she’d arrived. It had been more of a heated argument. They’d discussed the prospect of offering plastic surgery to the victims. Joy had taken the position that it would only traumatize them more. Her boss believed it would help them fit into society if they had the opportunity to change their looks.
Was I wrong? She bit her lip. Maybe offering them the chance to correct some of their facial anomalies should be on the table. She just believed they’d been messed with enough. It also seemed somehow offensive to her. No one should have to change their appearance to fit into mainstream society. Of course, it wasn’t up to her to make those decisions. That was way above her pay grade. She wouldn’t bring it up to any of the victims until someone decided whether it was appropriate. 466 and her other clients were attractive, even beautiful, to her. They were unique and special, perfect just the way they were.
“Well, do I?” His voice deepened, drawing her out of her musings. “Can you see calling me Tom instead of 466?”
“No, and I’m guessing you’re some form of canine species. It may set you apart from others but I don’t believe that’s a bad thing.”
