Laurann Dohner: Moon (Laurann Dohner)

“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.”

He seemed surprised again. “I’m impressed you’re not lying to me by denying I’m different.”

“I’m not a big fan of deceit. I’m a psychologist. I’m here to counsel you. I deal in truths and emotions. Lying and playing games would only hurt you. I want to help. Have you ever considered taking a name? Some of your people have chosen to take names that aren’t typical. Names that reflect emotions they identify with or things they discover they love. You’re more than just a number.”

He shrugged.

He has. She hid the smile that threatened to surface, thrilled he was finally opening up a little. In four months he’d stonewalled her at every turn. She’d even changed his session times to the last appointment of the day since she didn’t want to halt him if he ever decided to talk.

“What do you feel?”

“Annoyed. I’d like to skip coming here.”

“What would you do if you weren’t here at this moment?”

He hesitated. “You want the truth?”

“I was being honest when I said I’m not a big fan of deceit.”

“Fine. I’d probably be in my room watching more of those porn videos on the internet and releasing some…tension.”

Her cheeks warmed but she refused to show embarrassment. Sexual issues weren’t her specialty but she wouldn’t back away from the topic. “Do you release tension often? Does it help with some of your aggression issues?”

“How do you know I have any?”

“You have a chip on your shoulder, you seem to avoid interaction with most of the people here, and I was informed you tried to start a few fights with the male guards. You go out of your way to target them despite knowing they wouldn’t stand a chance against you. You’re physically superior.”

His pride was easy to read. “I know.”

It told her more about him and she liked that he had self-esteem. It was a promising step toward recovery. “Have you tried boxing? Some of your men enjoy it. It’s a great outlet to release anger.”

He cocked his head. “That’s not my idea of a good time.”

“What interests you then? I’ll see what I can do if you know of something that might work. I know everyone has internet and cable access so you can learn a lot more about the outside world.”

“I doubt you’d want to get me what I want.”

“You won’t know unless you ask.”

“Fine.” He smiled—a genuine one. “Females. I’d like to pound something but it wouldn’t be a weight bag.”

She shouldn’t have been shocked by his answer but for someone who had refused to talk to her for so long, he seemed intent on saying things to make her uncomfortable. She suspected it was on purpose.

“There are plenty of women around you, 466. Ninety percent of the staff is female and some New Species women live here.”

“Ninety percent of the human females are pregnant or just had babies. Your people know we’d never attack them so they send them here to work with us. Our females don’t want to be touched. There’s no one to fuck.”

She had no words. None.

He leaned forward to peer at her, still smiling, and suddenly rose to his feet. She pushed back in her chair, a little fearful with him standing. They were alone. She didn’t believe he’d hurt her but he seemed to want to make her squirm. He was accomplishing it quite well too.