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The Bleeding Cut
By Demeter


"Mr. Ashe, can I have a word with you?"

She doesn't lose time once they're in the doctor's office. "Do you really think I wouldn't find out about you and Libra?"

"What do you know, Whiskey?" he asks condescendingly. "You're one of them. Once they put you in the chair and wipe the doctor from your brain, you won't even remember this conversation. Besides, what's the difference? You all signed a contract so they could make you whatever they please. You gave over your free will."

He chuckles at the irony of it.

With her gaze, she's shooting daggers. Quite haughty, he thinks and not very surprising that she attracted the attention of a serial killer. "We didn't sign up for our trust being violated by the person we depend on most."

"Libra wasn't violated," he says impatiently, putting emphasis on the word. "Did you find any injuries? No? Are we done? Or are you going to call Adelle and tell her how to run this house?"

"If I did, then maybe it wouldn't be so close to being shut down altogether – Agent."

His self-assured posture faltures for a moment and of course, she has noticed.

"I was their best active. That wasn't just about looks."

"I am aware of your skills and the way they've been used. The choices you made. You didn't always want to be a doctor, did you?" She shudders at his words, and he can only guess it has to do with her latest run-in with Alpha. He really wants to meet this man who kind of makes Kiss-Me-Not look like a deviant. "Do you still want to rat me out to Adelle? Your comfy life here would be over, Dr. Saunders."

"Maybe it's not all I want any longer. Maybe I've developed a conscience."

"Don't do anything, I'm warning you. You're not only putting Libra in danger, but all of them. Oh, I forgot. All of you."

"Leave her alone," she says. "Once this is over, some day someone's going to listen."

He gives her a cocky grin. "Until that day, it seems the best for both of us to lay low, right?"

Until that day, he thinks, walking out of her office, it might be a good idea to suggest another imprint for Whiskey. He imagines Libra to look quite good in a doctor's coat.

Sensing her gaze following him, angry and helpless, he whistles to himself.

The End

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