She leaned on the table heavily. “I have done everything you asked. The least you can do is admit that and release Mark to go to the fucking bathroom.”
“The least I can do is nothing,” Joaquin said. “Which is what I’m doing right now. I already told you the rest depends on you. So we’ll wait and see what happens, won’t we?”
Jenna sat down and looked at Mark. His eyes were closed again, and she could see the tension in his body. She didn’t know if peripheral neuropathy got worse with extended periods of stillness—she hadn’t had time to do any additional research—but she didn’t imagine that made it better. Sitting still that long, his legs were probably numb, hands too, with how tight those restraints were.
She walked to the corner of the lab and slid to the floor. How many times had she sat like this when Garrison held her captive? Trying to make herself small, almost overwhelmed by her own helplessness.
She’d done what she could. Now she had to wait and pray the compound worked the way she planned.
And try to find an opportunity to get them out of this.
* * *
The machine beeped, and things were complete.
“Get it ready,” Joaquin said, striding to the doors. “Prepare two doses.”
Her stomach fell, but Jenna got up and did as he asked. If she could get Mark free, it would be okay.
Joaquin came back with a couple of his men in tow, just as she was finishing preparation of the two doses, and pointed at Mark. “Give him one of the doses.”
Jenna froze. She was as certain as she could be that this compound would work the way she intended, but that didn’t mean she wanted it tested on Mark.
“No. Use someone else. His body is under too much stress as it is.”
Joaquin stalked over to her and yanked the syringes out of her hands. He pushed her over to his men. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
One grabbed her arm. She tried to shrug him off, but it didn’t work. His fingers dug harder into her arm—hard enough to leave a bruise. She could break his hold easily, but she chose not to. Revealing her martial arts skills now would only get her bound as tightly as Mark was.
“Please don’t,” she said just before the needle went into Mark’s neck.
Mark wasn’t moving, breath coming fast, trying to keep himself still.
“Why?” Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “Would you have changed something in the formula if you’d known it was him we would test it on?”
“No,” she whispered. “It’s right.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” Joaquin pushed the plunger down into Mark’s neck. “I mean, except for the fact that your boyfriend is about to become my willing slave.”
Jenna watched Mark’s eyes go unfocused and glaze over. His body went slack, and everything about the man she loved was gone, replaced by nothing but the vacant stare of a robot.
“That seems about right.” Joaquin grinned and jerked his head toward the man not holding Jenna. “Get him up.”
The man removed Mark’s restraints and dragged him out of the chair. Mark immediately stumbled, collapsing partway to the floor, his legs unable to hold him due to his wounds and being tied up for so long.
Jenna pulled away from the guard holding her to help Mark, but Joaquin held out a hand, and the man yanked her back. It took every bit of willpower she had not to send this asshole to the hospital.
Not yet. It wasn’t quite time.
“Stand up and walk around,” Joaquin said to Mark. And as if he were some sort of miracle worker, Mark’s body obeyed. He stood and walked without any sign of injury or limitation. The chemicals in his brain were overcoming any physical hindrance.
But it wasn’t a miracle, and even if Mark couldn’t feel the pain due to the subjectification compound, damage was being done to his body.
Jenna swallowed her need to scream at Joaquin. Mark was alive and that was what mattered. If there was one thing they preached at Zodiac Tactical, it was thatsurvival was the most important thing. Everything else—including wounds that may cause Mark to walk with a limp for the rest of his life—was secondary.
Joaquin had Mark walk around the room for a few seconds before turning to her. “Looks like it works. But since you could easily have made a formula for Mark alone here, we’re going to test it on someone else. Bring her, and let’s go.”
That was the reason for a second syringe. The man holding Jenna pulled her with him, down the hallways she’d been trying to observe when she could.