Manipulative Attraction

48. ⚛️Truth Stranger Than Fiction

"What do you want with us, Demetri? Why did you kidnap us?" Jeannie asked.

"That is simple. I want you and Shon to help me create a master race of intelligent beings."

Jeannie's jaw popped when her mouth flew open in shock. Her godfather had gone off the deep-end. He was crazier than a shit-house rat.

"So, you want Shon and I to breed, correct?" Jeannie could hardly form the words to describe the diabolical plan Demetri had cooked up.

Demetri curled his lips in distaste. "That is a coarse way of saying it, but yes, that is what I want."

Jeannie laughed, a brittle sound filled with scorn. Demetri's anger had him springing to his feet and his eyes blazing with ice-blue fire.

"Not going to happen, son." Jeannie shook her head at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Demetri's ire resembled a furnace, scalding what sanity remained in his brain.

"You dare disrespect me." Demetri rushed towards her cage to bang on it with his hands. Drops of spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled, "I have nothing! I've given my life to the Istochnik and for what? I have no wife. No children. All I have is leather-bound volumes of poetry to keep me company at night."

Demetri pounded on his chest like an upset gorilla and Jeannie registered the madness behind his eyes. "You and Shon will breed, and your children will take care of me in my old age."

Jeannie laughed while Demetri seethed. His hands opened and closed in vexation. They itched to choke the life out of her for dismissing his dream.

"We are not some pawns in your game," Jeannie said, pointing to herself and Shon while the latter looked on with disbelief. "You, do not own us."

"Oh, milakha, I do." Demetri backed away from the glass and smiled. It was a chilling smile—icy and sharp. Jeannie eyed him warily as he took a seat and crossed his legs.

He is much too calm; she thought.

"Do you want to know why?"

Jeannie was reasonably sure that whatever came out of Demetri's mouth she would not like. Unfortunately, she had to indulge him. She needed to gain time for Thorne to rescue her and Shon.

She trembled at the implications of what a rescue could bring. Demetri didn't like Thorne. What would he do if they met face-to-face? Their meeting wouldn't end well .

Guaranteed.

Jeannie came back from her musings to nod her head as she pretended to agree with Demetri's ramblings.

"Shon." Demetri motioned to the young man from his chair. "You will want to hear this."

Shon didn't move. He had shut down. His blue eyes were distant. His face, devoid of color. His lips, a whitish hue of blue.

The poor man was in shock.

Jeannie pointed to his bed. "Sit down, Shon."

Shon obeyed. He sat on the edge of his bed with stiff legs. He folded his arms across his chest. Jeannie reached down and put her palm on the glass. After a moment of hesitation, Shon placed his palm on hers.

Soon, the cool glass warmed under their hands.

Demetri smiled indulgently at their gesture. "Can't you see? You two are made for each other."

Jeannie could almost taste the gloat in Demetri's tone and it sickened her soul. The man she'd looked up to had betrayed her in the worst way. The only saving grace in this whole mess was that her father never knew what kind of twisted thoughts Demetri had kept hidden all those years.