The facility was very large, far larger than she had expected, despite the fact that it was hidden behind a wardrobe. Sienna could not imagine how much time and money were put on the line to construct and maintain such a place in absolute secrecy.
"You must have been so certain I would treat you," she muttered as she walked out of the examination room, her voice carrying an edge of bitter admiration.
"No," Isaac responded, calm and cool as usual. "All of this was a gamble. You just happened to come right to my door."
She sighed internally. Of course. She had fallen directly into their lap and solidified their plan.
"Craig will input your handprint into the entrance so you can get in without us. He'll also give you the door code to the main entrance."
With that, Isaac walked out, leaving Craig and Sienna alone in the facility.
Craig worked quickly, almost frantically. His movements were efficient but edged with visible anxiety, his attention constantly flickering toward the door where Isaac had gone through. He was worried about his master, terrified, perhaps, that Isaac would suddenly lose control and tear apart the peaceful daycare.
Within fifteen minutes, the biometrics were programmed, and Craig wrote down the door code on a slip of paper, folded it carefully, and pressed it into her palm. Then they walked out together into the daycare.
Isaac was fine.
He stood in a corner, keeping a careful distance as he watched the children who ran across the daycare floor with bright faces and filled with childhood vigor. A luxury he never got to have, he never ran carefree among other children or ever laughed without looking over his shoulder. He had always been the dangerous monster, something to be feared and locked away. His father had told him then that sick people recover, and so would he, and for years, Isaac had clung to that promise like a drowning man to driftwood. But as he grew older, his condition only worsened. The staff around him reduced on a daily basis until only the most loyal and daring people remained, people like Craig, who would follow their master into fire itself.
Eventually, he had learned to accept reality.
His mother would kill him without hesitation if she ever had the chance. His father kept him alive only for his intelligence, a useful tool, nothing more. If he were to become foolish tomorrow, his father would dispose of him without a second thought.
So Isaac had decided to be strong for himself. Using the hands of loyal men, he built big things in the shadows, but those accomplishments meant nothing if he remained a monster.
"We're done, Master."
Craig's voice pulled Isaac from wherever his thoughts had taken him. He seemed not to notice that the daycare workers had been completely smitten by him. They stood frozen in various states of distraction, dreamy eyes fixed on him and faces flushed with helpless attraction, or they just didn't care.
Sienna could only sigh on their behalf; this man doesn't give a damn about them. With her interactions with him, she had come to a big decision that he was heartless or completely lacked human feelings or emotions. Probably because he had been locked up all his life.
They moved toward the exit, preparing to return to the car and to the main city.
Then Isaac stopped.
Both Craig and Sienna turned, confusion flickering across their faces, but Craig's expression transformed almost instantly into pure terror. His hand flew toward his bag, reaching for the tranquilizer, but he was too slow.
Isaac had become someone else.
The transformation was immediate. His aura shifted from contained power to something dangerous and terrifying. His eyes blazed red, filled with nothing but bloodthirst and fury. Veins bulged against his skin like they were straining to burst free, and his presence suddenly made the air thick.
Craig lunged forward, syringe raised, but before he could reach him, Isaac's arm swung out like a whip, and Craig was sent flying several meters away, crashing against a shelf with a painful impact.
The daycare immediately went dead silent. Everyone froze in confusion and terror, unable to process what they were witnessing. No one understood what had suddenly gone wrong.
Isaac had lost all sense of reason.
Sienna, however, had a different reaction; instead of fear, her eyes danced with excitement, like she was staring at the greatest masterpiece she had ever encountered, a living, breathing medical impossibility manifesting right in front of her.
Isaac's attention shifted to her.
She smiled.
Her hand moved to her inner pocket, retrieving a syringe she had taken from the facility on pure instinct. Sedatives.
"Dr. Rivers, RUN!" Craig's voice tore through the room, filled with desperation. He was struggling to stand, blood streaming down his face from where his head had struck something. "You can't do anything! He's completely lost it!"
Sienna ignored him, and Isaac lunged.
She saw him coming, a blur of impossible speed and dangerous intent; she raised her syringe, her eyes fixed on his throat with keen precision. She had just one chance to bring him down, and for some reason she believed she could do it….
"No, Doctor Rivers, RUN, I BEG YOU!"
Too late.
Just before she could stab him, his hand caught her wrist. His grip was like iron, and every alarm in her brain screamed simultaneously. She had miscalculated. He still had enough awareness to sense and defend himself against danger. In the next second, he would probably slam her to the ground, shatter her bones, tear her apart…
That didn't happen; instead… he pulled her close.
His arms wrapped around her, tight and possessive, and she felt his face press against her hair. His nose buried itself in the strands, inhaling greedily, desperately, like a starving man who had finally found sustenance.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
She could feel the tension in his body slowly and surprisingly beginning to calm.
"I was right."
The whisper came after what felt like an eternity, unmistakably him again.
He released her.
The monster was gone. Isaac stood before her, composed once more, his eyes clear and his breathing steady. Nothing remained of the creature that had existed moments ago except the memory.
Craig, who had been crawling toward them with blood still dripping down his face, froze in stunned disbelief.
"Don't tell me..." Sienna began, her mind piecing together the fragments.
Isaac completed the thought. "Your scent did it. Your scent soothed me." A pause. "And this time, my memory is very clear."
He didn't look at her. "I had a theory. Your scent, it always felt so soothing and calming; it always felt like every nerve in my body was relaxed, and for some reason I developed this theory that your scent could definitely keep me calm when I lose control. I wasn't certain, so I decided to come with you today. To test it, if the opportunity arose."
He said nothing more; he walked toward Craig, who was still sitting on the ground in shock, and extended a hand to help his subordinate rise as if he hadn't just said something that sounded so out of the world.
Sienna stood frozen in place, her mind a hurricane of thoughts.
How had she suddenly become involved in his ailment?
She wore no perfume. She didn't believe she gave off any extraordinary scent. And yet something about her had calmed something that medical science said was uncontrollable. Everything she had read about IAD suggested no external factor could affect it. No triggers or interventions. Had she missed something? Was there literature she hadn't reviewed?
"Dr. Rivers," Isaac's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Craig needs your help."
She snapped back to reality and hurried over.
Her hands moved automatically, clinical instincts taking over. She examined Craig with efficiency, a dislocated bone in his leg, and a gash near his hairline. Serious enough to require attention, but not life-threatening.
She turned to one of the daycare staff, who was huddled with the children in a corner, her face pale with lingering terror.
"Get me your first-aid kit."
The woman blinked, clearly not expecting to be addressed, but she snapped out of it and scrambled to retrieve the kit.
Sienna worked swiftly. Her hands moved with the confidence of someone who had performed these procedures countless times. She cleaned the wound and stitched the cut on Craig's head meticulously, then twisted his leg back into place with a single motion that made even Craig's stoic face tighten with pain.
She wrote out a prescription on a scrap of paper and pressed it into his hand.
"Have a good rest," she said.
Craig nodded, his face filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Doctor Rivers."
"It's nothing." She straightened, brushing off her clothes. "Come on, let's head back. It's getting late."
Isaac, who had been silent throughout her treatment, watching her work, finally spoke.
"Why didn't you run when Craig asked you to?"
She paused.
"Well, I was misinformed," her voice was annoyed. "I believed you had no sense of danger and thought I could stab you with my syringe and sedate you, but that wasn't the case."
"That was very stupid," Isaac said bluntly. "Who would treat me if I had killed you?"
Sienna's jaw tightened at the insult. "You didn't kill me. And that's a good thing."
She stormed out. Behind her, Isaac watched her retreating figure and nodded negatively like a tired father. Then he turned to help Craig to his feet, and together, they followed her out into the fading afternoon light.