40. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
C helsea
Cliff’s cousins in construction came through with more than just the badge: complete maintenance credentials, schedule rotations, even the right brand of work boots. The temporary facility’s layout matches the blueprints exactly: three levels down for containment, east wing for research, west for medical. Security protocols rely heavily on cryptid detection technology, making a human maintenance worker practically invisible. Their arrogance in focusing solely on supernatural threats might be their downfall.
The maintenance badge feels like a lead weight against my chest as I slip through Apex’s service entrance, head down and shoulders hunched in the universal posture of invisible workers. Years of investigating stories taught me one truth: no one looks twice at cleaning staff.
“Split up here,” Dante whispers through our earpiece. “Dr. Andrews’ lab is in the east wing. Her coding is brilliant—the security system practically dismantled itself once I input her backdoor algorithm.” There’s something in his tone beyond professional admiration, but there’s no time to analyze it.
“Be careful,” my voice barely carries. “If her research notes about cryptids are accurate, they’ll be keeping her drugged between experiments.”
“Trust me.” His spade-tipped tail twitches with uncharacteristic agitation. “I’ve memorized every detail of her file. Did you know she revolutionized biophysics with her work on energy transfer between organic systems? Her research on cellular adaptation had to potential to change medicine—before Apex acquired her. The implications for understanding cryptid abilities—” He catches himself, clearing his throat. “Anyway. Twenty minutes. Use our prearranged signal if you find Riven.”
Keeping movements efficient but unhurried, the cleaning cart provides both prop and cover while navigating deeper into the facility. My heart pounds so hard it’s a wonder the badge isn’t dancing between my breasts, but not a single person has given me a second glance.
My stomach knots with worry, not about my own safety, but about Riven. Right now, I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead. Luckily, I’m distracted as distant thunder signals Volt’s taking action on his part of the plan. Right on schedule, alarms start blaring and a computerized voice announces power fluctuations in sector seven.
“All security personnel report to stations,” a voice echoes overhead. “Scanning for cryptid signatures.”
Perfect. While they search for mythical creatures, a simple human in janitorial scrubs remains unnoticed, pushing her cart past checkpoints. Marina’s slow infiltration through the water systems creates enough minor flooding to keep maintenance staff rushing between problems. No one questions another worker heading toward the mess and hopefully, Dante is being careful on his mission to find Dr. Andrews.
My steps echo as I race down three flights of stairs, then hurry past the biochem labs, following the route memorized from stolen blueprints. The high-pitched whine of struggling containment fields grows stronger with each step. Almost there, just need to—
“Hey! This area’s restricted!”
The guard drops as Cypher materializes behind him, striking with practiced silence.
“Cutting it close, sorry,” the black feline rumbles, dragging the unconscious man into a supply closet. “Had to wait for the third power surge. They’re scanning between outages.” He glances at his watch. “Fifteen minutes until full systems reboot.”
A howl of pure agony tears through the corridor, turning my blood to ice. Riven. Even without our bond, that sound would haunt nightmares.
Protocol forgotten, my feet move before conscious thought. Cypher curses behind me, but there’s no stopping now. That tortured sound will follow me to my grave if we don’t reach him immediately.
The containment room’s door yields to Dante’s hacked keycard with an ominous hiss. Inside…
Oh god.
Riven hangs suspended in crackling energy fields. His wings, utterly devoid of color, droop lifelessly. Wires and sensors cover his bare chest, feeding data to machines that make bile rise in my throat. His head hangs limp, antennae completely still.
The observation window shows an empty control room. Dante’s staged security alert must have worked, drawing the staff to the opposite wing. Abandoned coffee cups and scattered notes suggest a hurried departure. A lone monitor blinks with warning messages about system failures.
“Another power surge!” The facility-wide announcement system crackles. “We’re losing containment in sectors—”
The lights cut out as the system switches to emergency backup. The containment field flickers.
Moving purely on instinct, my hand slams the emergency release. Riven crumples as the field dies, but Cypher catches him before he hits the ground.
“Riven?” My fingers brush his face, his antennae, as I desperately seek any response. “Please…”
His skin is cold, wings lying like dead things against Cypher’s midnight fur. But when my hand finds his, the faintest spark of gold ripples through one antenna. Dear god, I’ve never been so relieved about anything in my life. He’s alive. I’ll hold on to that small miracle and pray that he can fully recover.
“Target two secured,” Dante’s whispered voice crackles through the earpiece, slightly winded but triumphant. “Moving to extraction point.”
Cypher adjusts his grip on Riven as another alarm blares. “Time to go. Marina’s got the tunnels prepped.”
From there, the escape becomes a blur of shadows and silence, each step bringing more color to Riven’s wings, more strength to his breathing. My feet follow the extraction route on autopilot—service corridors, maintenance shafts, and finally the blessed darkness of Marina’s underground waterways. All I can think about is that my male, the man I’m to be bound to, is alive.
They wanted to study a Mothman’s abilities?
They got more than they bargained for. They just learned what happens when you fuck with family.