State of Pursuit

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Omega POW Facility — Somewhere in L.A.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had water. It’d been a while. He knew that much. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it had been too long. He could tell by the way he swallowed. There was no moisture left in his mouth.

There was blood on the floor.

Why? He couldn’t remember that, either.

He only knew that he was, and for the moment, that would have to do. Survival depended on focusing his thoughts on a single point. One thought. One object. One name.

Cassidy.

“You know… it wouldn’t take much to help yourself,” a tall, lithe man in the corner drawled. Harry Lydell. He was handsome, impeccably dressed in an Omega uniform. Black jacket and pants, boots. Piercing blue eyes. He looked bored, watching the prisoner lean against the wall in the corner of the cell.

He was a sight. All blood and bruises. Radiating pain.

Just the way Harry liked it.

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