Текст книги "Black Moon"

Автор книги: J. Tyler

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Thirteen

Mac cried until her dad threatened to fetch Melina or Noah and give her something to make her sleep, pregnancy or not.

His anger over her blatant stupidity had lasted all of three minutes. Just long enough to discern that she hadn’t intended to deceive Kalen at all. And she damned sure hadn’t meant to endanger her baby—his grandbaby. But that wasn’t the only issue.

The general paced while Mac watched him through swollen, bleary eyes. “He acted like you were keeping something else from him. That’s what he said. Are you sure you don’t know what the hell he was talking about?”

“No, I don’t– Oh, no. The nightmare!”

Her dad stopped pacing. “What nightmare?”

“The one I had recently.” She wrung her hands on her lap. “I thought—I hoped—it was just a bad dream. In it Malik told me that the baby I carried was his grandson. That Kalen was his son and that he had plans for us. I was so scared. But when I woke up, I couldn’t imagine the dream was real.”

“Or if it was, that it could possibly be true. Malik is such a goddamned mealymouthed liar,” her dad surmised.

“Exactly! I actually planned on telling Kalen, but the creep must’ve beaten me to it. There just never seemed to be a good time.”

“There never is, honey.” Sitting next to her on the sofa, he took both her hands in his. “If there’s one thing I learned from being married to your mother, it’s that there is never a perfect time to deal with the unpleasant stuff. It’s always best to get issues out in the open so they can be dealt with and healed.”

“And here I am, the therapist with all the fancy college degrees, and my dad had to clue me in.” She sniffled, and he handed her another tissue. “Thanks.”

“That’s what dads are for.”

She heaved a shaky breath. “Malik’s such an opportunist and a manipulator. I should’ve known he’d pull something like this. I shouldn’t have waited to tell Kalen anything. And I won’t from now on, if he gives me another chance.”

“I don’t think forgiveness is the worst trial either of you are facing right now. It’s Malik and how he’s going to use this rift to his advantage—and he will. It’s just a question of how.”

“Daddy, why did Nick bring you here? I know you didn’t show up just to surprise me,” she said quietly. She was afraid of the answer, but she had to know for sure.

His hesitation, the silence ticking away, was answer enough before he reluctantly shared some of what he knew. “Nick had a vision recently. A couple, actually, involving Kalen and the Pack. He saw that something terrible is going to happen, but he’s not certain when or where. Just that it will be soon.”

“And what he saw was so bad that he secretly called in the military?” Alarm shot through her at her father’s grim nod. “Are your men in the area?”

“I’m afraid so. They’re on standby. I had hoped never to have to involve them in the paranormal world, but we don’t always get what we want, huh? At least they’re good men, trustworthy. They won’t breathe a word about their mission or anything they witness.”

“Well, it’s not like anyone would believe them if they did.”

“True.” He eyed his daughter. “Are you feeling better?”

“Physically, yes. I wish I knew where Kalen went exactly. And when he’s coming back.” Ifhe was coming back. One thing was for sure: she couldn’t sit here anymore feeling miserable and sorry for herself. She needed to get her mind off her troubles with Kalen. “I think I’m going to wash up, then head to the infirmary. What are your plans?”

“I’m going to head out for a while, meet with my units. I don’t normally take such a hands-on role these days, but this isn’t exactly a typical situation.” Kissing her on the cheek, he stood. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

“Don’t worry.” She forced a smile. “Go and take care of business. I’ll see you later, maybe at dinner?”

“It’s a date.”

After seeing her dad out, she took a nice, hot shower, trying to wash away the stress of the morning. All the recent events kept running round in her mind, and it blew her away how fast things had gone from hopeful to hellacious in the span of a few minutes. She liked to think she and Kalen were stronger than the forces trying to drive a wedge between them.

But now she had her doubts.

She hated that, like she hated that he’d run instead of listening to her side of the story. He’d be back, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Now that she was over her crying jag, she was getting good and mad. Damned men! They were frequently a huge, collective pain in the ass. It was ironic that she’d taken a job that surrounded her with loads of testosterone on a daily basis.

She dressed quickly, then headed to the kitchen to pour the rest of the coffee down the sink and nibble some crackers. As excited as she was about the baby, the changes to her body made her feel like she’d been dropped into the wrong person. Certain smells made her sick, her breasts were tender, and she was sleepy all the time. She was also weepy, which was problem enough without the rest of the drama.

A few crackers and a cup of juice later, she headed to the infirmary and busied herself examining the latest round of test results on Sariel. He was doing much better and would likely be released, with the stipulation that he take care of himself. Everyone was concerned about the prince, and they would monitor his weight, but there really didn’t seem to be a reason to keep him.

She was readying Sariel’s release papers when her ink pen hit the desk with a clatter. “Oh my God.”

Sariel. If Kalen was Malik’s son then that meant . . .

Stunned, she sat back in her office chair and debated her next course of action. Talk to the prince? Or wait for Kalen? She decided on the latter. Waiting for him was notthe same as keeping the news from the faery. It just wasn’t her place to share what she knew without speaking with her mate first.

“Mac?”

She looked up to see Melina standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“You look a million miles away. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She waved the other woman inside. “I was thinking Sariel is about ready to get sprung. What do you say?”

Her friend took the test results from Mac and looked them over. After a few moments, she nodded. “Looks good. Or as good as it can be, considering we don’t know what’s making him sick. It took him a helluva long time to recover from the witch’s attack, much longer than any of the shifters would have taken to heal. He didn’t need the injury on top of that.”

Mac managed to stifle a smile at her friend’s protective tone. Someone was more than a little sweet on a certain Fae prince. Melina would deck her if she mentioned it, though.

“Shall I give him the good news or would you rather do it?” Mac asked innocently.

“I’ll do it. I need to give him some instructions or he won’t take care of himself,” she muttered. Then she glanced up at Mac. “What?”

“Nothing.”

All too perceptive even on an “off” day, Melina peered at her face. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are puffy.”

“I—maybe.”

“What did that dickweed do now?”

“Don’t call my mate names,” she said in a low voice, bristling. “He’s dealing with a lot of shit right now.”

“Aren’t we all? And if he hurts you, he’s a dickweed. End of story.”

“We had a misunderstanding, and of course it took place in front of my dad.” She grimaced at the memory.

Melina’s eyes widened and she sat in a chair across Mac’s desk. “No way. How did the general take being in the middle of a spat between his daughter and her new mate?”

“About as well as you’d expect—he got royally pissed at both of us.”

“Care to talk about it?”

She hesitated. Actually, it would be nice to have another woman to talk to, and Mac was closer to Melina than to Rowan or Kira, having known the other doctor a lot longer. So she spilled her guts about the nice reunion with her dad that had quickly soured when Kalen learned what she’d been holding back.

Melina listened to the end, her expression softening in sympathy. “Nearly six peaceful years working here at the compound, and then bam. When you fuck up, you really give it the old one-two knockout punch.”

Mac threw the ballpoint pen at her friend, and it bounced harmlessly off her shoulder. “Bitch. I feel somuch better now, thanks.”

“What are friends for?” Melina studied her for a moment, then grew serious. “Sweetie, what are you going to do if he loses his fight against Malik?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, a painful knot in her throat.

“Do you think he’d hurt you or the baby?”

Her gaze dropped to her desk and she studied the wood grain on the surface. “I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but honestly? That’s my greatest fear. That one day soon he won’t be able to distinguish between right and wrong, and he’ll do something that will hurt us, even if it’s indirectly.”

“Is that what you really believe?” Kalen’s voice asked breathlessly from the doorway.

Mac froze. Then her eyes lifted and met her mate’s. His breathing was coming harshly, as though he’d been running, and his pupils were too large again. She hoped he hadn’t been where she suspected. “Have you been with Malik?”

“My question first,” he countered. “Is that what you think of me? That I’d hurt you or our child, or that I’d allow anyone else to hurt you?”

“I wish I could say no,” she whispered, agonized. “But it’s impossible to be sure when you’re consorting with the enemy.”

Hurt flashed in his expression and his jaw ticced. “I had to ask him whether it was true that I’m his son.”

“I think it’s sad that you would look to him for the truth about anything.”

“He istelling the truth, at least about this. I have a father and a half brother. I have family.”

“Sariel might be your brother, but that thingis not and never will be any kind of a father,” she said, her voice rising. “A real father wouldn’t have left you starving on the streets while he watched and refused to lift a finger to help you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he rasped. “You have a great dad who loves you more than anything and I’ll never experience that for myself. Don’t you understand how much that hurts? How hard it is to resist any kindness that comes out of his lying mouth?”

“I do—”

“No. You don’t. He wants me to—” Swaying, Kalen grabbed his head and hissed in pain. Mac stood and would’ve gone to him, but he waved her off with a laugh that sounded slightly crazed. “Don’t touch me!”

“Kalen—”

“Don’t dirty your hands with the likes of me,” he snarled, eyes wild. “Oh, wait—too late for that. Too bad you’re stuck with Malik’s son for a mate.”

Fear gripped her heart. He was losing his struggle with his dark half—if he hadn’t lost already. “Please, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

“Never mind. The truth is, you’re right. You shouldbe afraid of me. In fact, you need to stay as far from me as you can get.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do it for you.” His green eyes were blank marbles as he held her gaze for a long moment, then turned and slammed out.

Melina looked shaken. “My God. His eyes . . . That wasn’t Kalen.”

I won’t cry. It’s not over.

“How are we going to help him?” she asked Melina. “Do you think we could try dosing him with the new sedative we’ve been using on Micah? It’s helped him, so why not Kalen?”

“Because we’re fighting dark magic here, my friend. I think being sedated will only lower his defenses all the way, leaving him completely vulnerable to the Unseelie’s influence.” Melina shook her head. “At this point, Kalen is the one who’s going to have to save himself.”

Mac was terribly afraid her friend was right.

* * *

Mac thought he was capable of harming her. Possibly their child.

Nothing could have broken his heart more effectively than hearing that from his mate’s lips—except knowing it was entirely possible she was right.

Weary, Kalen paused at the end of the hallway and fought the urge to see Sariel. On the way back to the compound, he’d taken his time. Had fought hard to regain some control over his dark half, and the closer he came to Mackenzie, the more his mind cleared. But not all the way. The need to kill was agonizing. But he had to see the prince, or else he’d be driven out of his mind not knowing if he could resist the compulsion to follow through on Malik’s orders.

Outside Sariel’s room he knocked and then went on inside. Sariel was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a pair of loose-fitting pants and a shirt that was slit on the back to accommodate his wings.

“Hello, Sorcerer. I’m getting out of here today, or I’m supposed to,” the faery told him with a smile.

“Good for you.” The flat tone of his voice was unintentional, but it quickly told the prince that something was off.

“What’s wrong?” The Fae’s brow furrowed.

“I’m supposed to kill you. You get that, right?”

To his surprise, the prince gave a soft laugh. “Am I supposed to be shocked? Afraid? Let me remind you of something, fledgling. I’m more than eleven thousand years old. Can you wrap your brain around that number? Do you actually believe in all that time nobody has ever wanted me dead? I’m a prince of my kind, Kalen. Besides my sire, enemies abound. Been there, done that, got the merit badge in survival, as humans say.”

“You’re being awfully flip about this.”

“Not at all. Simply realistic.” Sariel stood, his height equal to Kalen’s. He didn’t appear to be the least bit alarmed by any threat the Sorcerer might pose. “You could certainly try to harm me and, like the witch, you might succeed if you catch me off guard, not to mention that I’m healing and my system hasn’t yet adjusted well to being in this realm. But make no mistake—even with all these disadvantages, I possess power beyond your wildest imagination.”

He delivered this statement with such confidence, it gave Kalen pause. “You’re saying Malik sent me on a suicide mission, then?”

The prince looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. Does he have reason to believe your abilities are equal to mine—other than being Fae yourself?”

Here came the hard part. He took a deep breath. “Because Malik claims to be my father—and he says you’re my half brother. Can you wrap yourbrain around that?”

Sariel’s mouth fell open. “Great gods.” He stared at Kalen for a few moments before he nodded. “My brother? That would make perfect sense, that sick old asshole.”

“Do you think it’s true? Are we brothers?”

“Considering everything you told me before, I’d say it’s highly likely. You do realize that I have several other brothers and that would mean you do as well. If it’s true, you just gained quite a large family.”

“Any way we can ever know for sure?”

“Not if you kill me,” Sariel said pointedly. “As if you could.”

“If we’re related by blood, I’m more than capable.”

“And you want to.” Sariel observed him with a critical eye. “You’re practically vibrating with tension, and your pupils are dilated. Your panther is close to the surface. I can sense that he’s dying to rip out my throat and feast on my carcass.”

“So badly I can’t stand it,” he admitted hoarsely. His panther growled in agreement. “And yet the real me doesn’t want that at all. I want to get to know the brothers I’ve always longed for, and fighting the dark half is tearing me apart.”

Kill the prince.

Kalen flinched at the order. “He wants me to do it. Help me.”

Sariel moved close, laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re strong. And we must be related if you can resist Malik’s influence this way for any length of time. Hold on just a while longer. I have a feeling the end of this is near.”

“Yeah, but who comes out on top?”

A smile kicked up one corner of the prince’s mouth. “Why, the baddest two Fae on earth, of course. And when the day comes to prove it, I’ll fight by your side.”

Kill him now, boy.

“That’s way more than I deserve.”

“No. You deserve more . . . brother.”

No, you fool! Kill him!

“I won’t do it,” he whispered to his unseen tormentor. “Go fuck yourself.”

Pain stabbed his head again and blood trickled from his nose. Sariel grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and handed it over. Kalen cleaned up and was about to say something more when the building’s intercom intruded into the bonding moment with his brother.

“Alpha Pack to the conference room, stat,” Nick ordered.

“That can’t be good.” Kalen sighed. “We’ll finish this later, right?”

“Count on it. And be careful,” the faery said, worried.

“I will.” Clasping hands briefly with the prince, he turned and hurried toward the conference room. It seemed he could draw the good kind of strength from his friends and loved ones to counter the evil Malik kept pumping into him. That would be what saved him.

Or at least let him live long enough to take out the Unseelie.

In the conference room, Nick was already waiting at the head of the long table, tense and impatient. Next to him stood General Grant, his mood appearing much the same. Kalen took a seat near the back and watched as the rest filed in, some involved in animated conversations, some quiet. But all talking stopped when Nick began, his tone serious yet laced with unmistakable excitement.

“As most of you have heard by now, the general is here to assist us with the problem of Malik and his Sluagh.” Aric and Ryon and a couple of others glanced at Kalen. He ignored them. “More specifically, Grant’s units are on standby and are fully prepared to accompany us into battle when we eradicate those vermin from the face of the earth.”

“We’re going to need that many soldiers?” Ryon asked, a tendril of fear in his voice. “How many Sluagh does that fucker have coming for us?”

Nick pinned Kalen with his steely gaze. “Kalen might have that answer. How many?”

It was a test. Nick and the general knew the number, but they wanted him to reveal what Malik had told him. First, he tried to strengthen the mental wall between him and the Unseelie, but it was shaky at best.

“Hundreds,” he said. The throbbing started in his temples, but he pushed on. “They’re amassing in the Shoshone, far from civilization. He ordered m-me to lower the shields on the c-compound and . . .”

The pain got so bad the rest of the words were strangled in his throat. Hanging his head, he breathed through it as someone clapped his back in reassurance.

“Have you lowered them?”

Kalen shook his head. “No. They won’t get in here.” He’d die first. They heard that without him saying it out loud.

“All right. We’ll face that battle soon enough. But I’ve brought you here for a different reason. General, you want to tell them?”

“I’d be glad to.” The older man stood with his hands behind his back. “Your team has been instrumental in locating and destroying several of the so-called research facilities where Malik, aka Evan Kerrigan, has been funding the creation of his super-shifters. With the destruction of the last couple, as well as with the death of Orson Chappell, NewLife Technology’s CEO, you all dealt the operation a serious blow.”

There was some agreement around the table on that, and some minor celebrating.

Grant went on. “Be that as it may, the main doctor in charge of the research, Dr. Gene Bowman, has eluded capture time and again.” The Pack guys sobered. “But my contacts have found Bowman working in what we believe to be the last research facility in existence belonging to this group of scumbags. Destroy this one, and we’ve got them all.”

“Hot damn!”

“Fuckin’ A. When do we start?”

The sentiments were unanimous—the team couldn’t wait to get the job done. But Grant wasn’t finished.

“Of the enemy, take no prisoners. Of the survivors, bring them home. And there’s one more thing—my source indicates that one of the survivors is very special.” When he paused, no one so much as breathed. “We believe that Phoenix is among the captives.”

There was stunned silence—and then an explosion of questions and exclamations. Nix had gone missing at the same time as Micah and the others. Where had Nix been? How did he get there? Grant held up a hand and shook his head.

“Terry and Jonas truly are dead, according to my source. No one has found any information on Ari, but we’re hoping Phoenix can fill in the blanks.”

When the guys had calmed somewhat, Jax asked, “So where is this last research facility? I’m sure we’d all like to get on with burning it to the ground.”

“It’s nestled in a picturesque valley in California. It’s a midsized building, situated in the countryside, quiet and unassuming like the old church they used before. Seems to be a favorite MO. But watch for traps, as always.”

“Any questions?” Nick called over their excited murmuring.

Rowan piped up. “Just one—when do we leave?”

“Wheels up in twenty,” Nick said. “So go put on your party dresses.”

That earned a few snickers as chairs scraped and boots clomped. Micah stood back as they filed out, clearly bleak at being left behind again. But the poor bastard was simply in no shape to go along. Rowan, his sister, gave him a fierce hug before hurrying after Aric.

Kalen couldn’t pass the man by without saying something. “Soon, big guy. Right?”

“Yeah.” Without another word, Micah turned and shuffled off. He looked so alone, even though he was surrounded by friends.

Kalen understood exactly how he felt.

* * *

The flight from Wyoming to California was short but turbulent. Very fitting, when Kalen thought about it. By the time they landed the two Hueys a couple of miles from the suspected research facility, he was ready to toss his cookies. A military man he was not. If he could’ve magically transported the whole bunch of them, he would’ve.

They scrambled off the copters, and those that preferred to carry checked their weapons. Kalen much preferred to be his own weapon, thank you very much. He didn’t care for guns, though he’d use one if he had to.

As they followed Nick through the valley, Kalen tested his mental shield and found it still holding but weak. It seemed the more physical and emotional distance that came between him and Mac, the worse the influence from the Unseelie. Kalen’s dark side was slowly overtaking his light, as Sariel called it.

He had to hang on. Just a while longer.

Give it up, my boy. You are mine.

“No.” Kalen studied the backs of his teammates, but nobody seemed to have heard.

The lust for blood will rise within you, unstoppable. Give it full rein, feed it. And turn it against the Pack. Be my instrument of revenge.

Concentrating, he tried to shore up the crack in his shield. An almost impossible chore, considering the distractions all around him. He had to watch his Pack brothers, scan for possible traps, hidden enemies. There were sure to be many, if this was in fact the last stronghold for Malik’s research.

Did Malik know where they were headed? He couldn’t, otherwise the Sluagh guards would be on them already. No, the Unseelie was picking up on his emotions and trying to use them. He didn’t really know where Kalen was at the moment.

He’d do his best to keep it that way.

Spread out, they walked through the trees as silently as possible. Using every ounce of their animal stealth, they made their way closer to the building below them. When a grayish blur detached itself from the cover of the forest, it wasn’t unexpected, but it shocked the senses all the same.

From their right, a huge Sluagh slammed into Hammer, taking the big man to the ground. His shout was lost in the simultaneous roars from the beast and from the Pack. Rowan was closest, and immediately jumped onto the thing’s back, a big Glock in her hand. Without wasting a second, she pressed the muzzle to its temple and blew its brains out. The creature slumped to the side, leaving Hammer staring up at Rowan, wide-eyed.

“Shit! Thanks, Ro,” he breathed. “That’s one way to take them out.”

“And effective, too.” Crawling off the beast, she kicked it in disgust. Then she turned just in time to receive a possessive kiss from Aric.

Kalen wondered how the man handled bringing his mate into danger. He wasn’t sure he could do the same. Then again, Mac and Rowan were two completely different women. Ro was raised in east Los Angeles and had been an LAPD cop. She was earthy and tough. Kalen’s mate was a gentle doctor, and he couldn’t fathom her doing what Rowan had just done.

The scent of the creature’s blood hit Kalen hard, and the crack in his wall threatened to split at the seam again. Rancid as the odor was, it sparked a fire low in his belly. The need to kill. As he’d done with the avatar of Sariel.

Dammit! He couldn’t let the craving get the best of him.

They set off again, the tension high. The Sluagh had obviously been patrolling this section alone, but his brethren might notice his absence anytime. They had to move faster, and picked up the pace.

Once the building was in sight, Nick signaled them to halt and gestured them in close. “A.J., this looks like a good place for you to pick off anyone who gives us trouble.”

“I got your backs, boss.” The human wasn’t a fighter, but he had a high-powered rifle with a scope, and he was deadly accurate with it.

“The rest of us will split into two teams. Kalen, Ryon, Hammer, and Jax take the back. The rest of us will cover the front. Ryon, let us know when you enter the building.”

Ryon gave him a thumbs-up and took his group, making a wide circle to the back side of the facility. Kalen couldn’t get the stench of the Sluagh’s blood out of his head, the itch to shred something—anything—out of his system. The need crawled through him like a disease, insidious. Barely contained.

At the back of the building, they pressed up against the wall on either side of a door that looked to be a service entrance. The lack of guards was disturbing, to say the least. That feeling mounted as Jax picked the lock and they eased inside, still unchallenged.

We’re in,Ryon pushed into their minds. There’s a garage area back here, probably where they bring in the prisoners. Three vehicles, two of them vans with blacked-out windows. No guards. I don’t like this.

He paused, presumably getting an answer from Nick. Ryon, as the team’s Telepath, could push his thoughts into their heads, but no one could hear a direct mental reply except him. After a few moments, Ryon gestured his group forward, scanning carefully.

With an effort, Kalen kept his mind firmly focused on taking out the enemy when the time came—and onlythe enemy. These were his brothers. His future. Not Malik or his empty promises of acceptance.

He could resist the evil. He would.

Across the garage was a door that served as the entrance to the main building. They crept toward it, alert. Something, perhaps some small sound, made Ryon look up, into the beams over their heads.

And he shouted, “Get down!”

The garage erupted into high-pitched squeals as several Sluagh swooped down from the rafters at once. Kalen dropped into a crouch as the others hit the floor. Facing these numbers, he figured it was better to use his magic than call his panther.

Ryon and Jax shifted into their wolves and leaped, tearing into a couple of the creatures. Hammer traced, confusing the beasts near him. But there were too many, and they would quickly be overwhelmed in hand-to-hand combat.

Summoning his staff, Kalen stilled. Focused his magic on the attacking Sluagh. Then he called the element of water, coaxed it from their bodies. Disseminating it into the air. The creatures began to shrivel and scream. One particularly smart one seemed to realize Kalen was the cause of this development and charged him, closing the distance between them rapidly.

His heart pounded, but he didn’t move. The beast rushed toward him, roaring his rage, eyes small and red. And then he too shriveled, dropping right at Kalen’s feet like stone.

“Fuck.” Kalen’s knees shook at the close call. Uttering a phrase in Latin, he reduced the bodies to ash, and the particles floated away. His friends morphed back to human form and picked up their shredded clothes.

“That’s a damned nice trick you’ve got there,” Jax said, pulling on his pants.

“It’s saved our bacon more than once,” Ryon agreed. “Thanks.”

“Think anyone heard the commotion?” This from Hammer, who brushed himself off.

Jax smoothed down his goatee. “Only one way to find out.”

They gathered on either side of the door. Ryon turned the knob and gave it a small push. It swung inward, revealing a long corridor beyond, clean and sterile with white walls and tile. Faint wailing could be heard from a distant room, the soul inside completely without hope.

“Just a few more minutes,” Jax whispered. “Help is on the way.”

Here is where it can get tricky,Ryon projected as they entered. We’re in the back hallway. It’s long and narrow, a tight space for a fight. We’ll take it room by room, gather any survivors.

The first few rooms were being used for storage. Upon inspection, the spaces were surprisingly well organized, with metal shelves storing various useful items. The industrious Dr. Bowman had been busy since they’d nearly caught him last time. One room was full of cleaning supplies, another labeled with medications of all kinds. Jax took an interest in these.

“Before we torch the place, we need to gather this stuff. Maybe it will give our own doctors some helpful research into what these fuckers have been using.” He fingered a labeled bottle. “And some free meds, too, if there are some good drugs here.”

“Good point,” Ryon said.

The next room held shelves of clothing. There were the drab green scrubs that were meant for their doctors and other staff. Some others were plain, consisting of rough tan pants and pullover shirts. Kalen wondered if these were for their unwilling residents, which didn’t make sense. Malik’s lackeys had never seen fit to clothe their test subjects before. They didn’t care about them that much.

“Maybe they got tired of their experiments dying,” Jax observed, studying the clothing. “Won’t matter after today what those assholes wanted, though.”

They filed back into the hallway, watchful. At a junction where their corridor was met by another on the left, an armed human guard stood leaning against the wall with his back to them. His stance was relaxed, bored. That would be his last mistake.

Jax quickly sneaked up behind him, grabbed his hair, and jerked him backward. A cry of surprise was silenced as Jax used a sharp claw to slice the man’s throat and allowed him to slump to the floor. The guard gurgled, reaching to his neck, but the light in his eyes faded. He was dead in moments.