Page 97 of Hunted to Be Mine
I had to pry them open before Dresner walked in.
Minutes crawled into an hour while I watched Blackout stand guard.
My mind kept circling Specter. Located. Not captured. That difference mattered. I held to the idea he was still out there, still moving.
A sharp knock at the door cut through my thoughts.
Blackout opened it without looking away from me. His focus didn’t slip as he stepped aside.
Tobias Dresner entered, and my blood went cold.
He wore a charcoal suit and a burgundy tie, immaculate. Silver hair combed into place.
“Dr. Crawford,” he said, smooth and cultured. “A pleasure to finally meet you. Your work on trauma-induced behavioral change is remarkable.”
He smiled without warmth and came closer.
“Forgive the unorthodox invitation,” he went on. “Traditional recruitment lacks… urgency.”
I squared up. “Kidnapping’s one way to recruit.”
“A crude term for a necessary acquisition.” He studied me like I was a specimen. “I’ve followed your career. Your methods for breaching psychological barriers are innovative. And I observed your talent firsthand on your little trip with one of my broken assets. Remarkable. Unexpected.”
“I’m flattered.” The words came out flat. “But I don’t work for people who drug and kidnap me.”
“Your expertise will be invaluable,” he said, drifting along the room’s perimeter. “Your grasp of where a mind gives and how to guide it is exactly what Oblivion needs now. What I need.”
The way he said it made my skin crawl. Tool, not person.
“Where’s Specter?”
Something finally shifted in his expression, amusement almost.
“Subject designation Specter has proven resilient,” he said, adjusting a cufflink a precise quarter turn. “Perhaps a testament to your influence. His conditioning should have collapsed after extended separation from handler protocols, yet he continues to function. An amazing hunter.”
Relief hit, then fear, as he kept talking.
“We’re taking steps to recapture the defective product,” he said. “His neurological response to your… involvement… created an anomaly we’ve never seen. Worth extensive study.”
“He’s not a product.” Heat built under my skin. “He’s a person.”
“A semantic distinction without scientific merit.” His tone never wavered. “What interests me is how your presence accelerated disruption in neural pathways designed to resist attachment.”
He paced to the window. “The basis for that resistance could be groundbreaking. We may need to extract tissue from the relevant structures once he’s recaptured. Perhaps compare with your neural activity while you observe.”
Acid crept up my throat. He discussed cutting into Specter’s brain while I watched, as if planning a lab demo.
“You’re a monster,” I said before I could stop myself.
“An emotional statement, not a scientific one.” He adjusted his tie. “Disappointing.” He turned back, gaze steady. “I expected you to appreciate the evolutionary weight of our work. We’re advancing human potential beyond its natural limits.”
“By torturing people and erasing them? That’s not advancement. That’s barbaric science-speak.”
“Your perspective is constrained by conventional morality,” he said. “A luxury we cannot afford in pursuit of true evolution.”
“I won’t help you.” No give in my voice. “Not with Specter. Not with anything.”
“Your consent is irrelevant,” Dresner said. “You will contribute willingly or otherwise.” He stepped closer, voice still conversational. “You understand the anatomy of breaking points. I can take what I need while I take you apart.”
