Page 75 of The Alpha

“He’s an interesting catch, don’t you tink?”

“Aye and knows what a Time Master is.”

“My father will join us soon.” Okay, even while screaming, Peter knew that was Markhel speaking.

He pressed his lips together, trying to keep quiet. His screaming was down to the sounds of a whimpering puppy. “Guys, there’s no need for Dad to come. Whose dad is he?” He looked at the white-haired one. “Markhel, right? Nice name by the way. Please don’t kill me before Dad gets here.”

The three men exchanged the same look of… what was that? An, “are you kidding me?” look, or more of a “let’s just kill him now and be done with it,” sort of look?

A fourth man entered the cell. He was tall like the others, regal in bearing, and older, fiftyish maybe, with white hair, blue eyes, and salt-and-pepper eyebrows. “You must be D-d-dad,” Peter choked out.

The newcomer arched an eyebrow at him. “Has he talked?”

“Oh, he’s talked all right,” the Scot said. “Fear induced gibberish.”

Peter looked at the four and realized that father and son were Muirarans. “I’m dead.”

“Not yet,” the older Muiraran threatened. “What can you tell us about the Anontist Center?”

Peter paled as a chill went up his spine. “Oh boy, you guys really do have long memories, don’t you?”

The elder Muiraran got in his face. They seemed to like doing that. “Hmmm. He is… squishy.”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“I’ll second that,” the Scot said. “But I assume yer no speaking of his body?”

The elder Muiraran closed his eyes. “Pliable, eager to please, does not think highly of himself. Corrupted, hmmm, but has compassion.” He opened his eyes and looked at Peter. “You wanted to help them.”

“Yes!” Peter blurted. “But, you know, the job comes with a lot of perks, and the dental is great.”

The Scot cocked his head. “What is he blathering on about?”

The elder Muiraran smiled. “The compensation he receives for doing his job.” He bent to Peter again. “What is your job, human?”

Peter began to sweat. Now they were getting down to business. “Um… I was… erm… Dr. Charles’ assistant.”

The elder Muiraran straightened. “He is the one in charge?”

“Yes,” Peter squeaked. “Um, yes,” He repeated in a low voice. Don’t show fear, no fear, no fear, no fear!

The elder’s eyes narrowed to slits. “He hunted down my son. Drugged him, took him!”

Peter tried to shrink against the table. Hard to do considering he was already strapped to it.

A fist hit the table next to his ear, denting it. “What else did he do to him?”

Peter closed his eyes. He was going to die. “Th-th-the same th-thing we dd-did to the female.”

“Which was?” the Scot demanded. Gad was that arealTime Master?!

“W-w-w-we took blood samples, did some biopsies. We did a bone marrow test on the girl.” A tear ran down his cheek. “It hurt her. A lot.”

The elder Muiraran was so angry he shook. He bared his teeth, and fangs descended.

“If you shift, Zerbe,” the black man cautioned. “You cannot question him.”

“Father, hold together.”

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