I grinned. "I like that you think he's just trying."
"Hey, I've seen enough creature features to know the good guys always win."
"You're not afraid at all, are you?"
Instead of answering, he reached for a sandwich.
ELEVEN
Be careful what you wish for, my mother had always warned me. I'd wanted time alone with Connor and now I had it.
The hours of sunlight dragged by. We weren't convinced mikes weren't around somewhere to pick up our conversations, so unless we wanted to talk with our mouths pressed to each other's ear we avoided discussing anything that might make Mason think he was on the right track. Further lab work was probably going to confirm that Connor was a Shifter—but we still held out hope that it could be explained away if that was all they had.
We were sitting in opposite corners, because we didn't want our passion captured on video either and it was difficult to be close and not give in to temptation.
"Best movie of all time?" I asked.
"300. Definitely. You?"
"Shawshank Redemption."
His mouth dropped. "You're kidding. Were we even born when it came out?"
"I've seen it on video."
He grinned. "I should have known you wouldn't pick a chick flick. It's actually second on my list."
"And you're giving me a hard time about it?"
He nodded toward the window. "We have a lot of sunlight to get through."
I glanced around. Smaller, empty cages were stacked along one of the walls. "You think they made this room just for us?"
"I think they thought they were going to have lots of specimens."
"Do you believe this serum Mason is talking about—what he wants it to do—do you believe it's even possible?"
"I suck at biology. But if I had to guess"—he slowly shook his head—"Warning: mad scientist at work."
I nodded. I didn't know whether to be disappointed or have hope. Whatever was finally developing between Connor and me—would it come to a screeching halt if I told him the truth?
"Favorite TV series," he prodded as though he could tell my thoughts were drifting toward places they shouldn't.
"24."
He grinned as though immensely pleased. "Action girl."
I shrugged, a little embarrassed that my answers probably didn't fall in line with the typical girl's. "What can I say? Give me a few explosions along with some unlikely situations and I'm happy."
"I feel for Bauer. He never gets a chance to eat or sleep."
"I like that no matter where he needs to be, he's only five minutes away."
Connor laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound. I wouldn't have thought I could actually enjoy our situation.
"We must be driving Mason crazy," I said.
"Why? Because we're not prowling around like the animals he thinks we are?"
"Because we're acting like we're having a good time."
"I am having a good time." He picked at the bandage. It probably irritated him that he couldn't shift and heal the scrape. "It's kinda funny, but I never had quiet moments with Lindsey. We were always busy, always doing something. Don't get me wrong. I had fun doing things with her." He looked over at me. "But it's fun just doing nothing with you."
"I'm going to pretend that's a compliment."
"It's definitely a compliment. I'd come over there and give you more than that if it wouldn't give Mason a thrill."
I couldn't stop myself from blushing and smiling at the same time. "I think he needs a girlfriend."
"Good luck with that. She'd have to be totally oblivious to what a nutcase he is."
Every now and then Connor worked in a jab, just in case Mason was listening. I could envision him gritting his teeth as he listened through headphones.
"Where do you think his dad is?" I asked.
Connor shrugged. "I always had the impression that Mason was the driving force behind this venture. His dad just hung around to provide authority."
"Kayla said Mason is a genius. He's not much older than we are, but he's already finished with college, working in the Bio-Chrome lab."
"The guy definitely needs a life."
Which I figured was what prompted him to search for a way to transfer a Shifter's abilities to himself.
We returned to our little game of bests. It was interesting learning about Connor's likes: favorite spectator sport—baseball; favorite participator sport—basketball; favorite food: rare sirloin.
Shadows were beginning to creep in—the sun was setting. We soon heard the clank of the door unlocking. Monique came in, pushing a silver cart.
She, too, had been part of the Bio-Chrome group that we'd led into the wilderness. She was lithe, graceful, with milk-chocolate skin and a flawless complexion. She'd seemed nice enough when we first met her, but looking at her now, I had to wonder what kind of person she was to get mixed up in this madness.
"Hey, guys. It's great to see you again," she said with patently false cheer, bringing the cart to a halt. "I've brought you a little dinner."
She pushed a button on a handheld gadget and the door rose slightly. She shoved two covered plates through the narrow opening.
Connor took one and lifted the lid to reveal sirloin, rare, and what I'd told him was my favorite vegetable, even though I seldom ate it because it was so unhealthy—crispy, golden fries.
"Cute, so Mason wants us to know he's listening," Connor said. He raised a brow at Monique. "Knife and fork?"
She smirked. "Nice try, but we figure you'd find some way to use them to escape or hurt us. I did bring you some napkins, little ketchup packets, and some more water."
She shoved everything else into our cage and promptly closed the door.
"Any chance we could get some blankets?" Connor asked. "It's gonna get cold in here tonight."
Her lovely features reflected regret. "I'm sorry. I wish I could bring you some. If you get cold, you'll just have to go all furry."
I glared at her. "And when we turn blue? Are you going to come in here and revive us?"
"Snuggle up. He can keep you warm."
"I didn't expect you to be such a cold bitch," I said.