Chapter 14 Treacherous #4
Lucien had been working with the Soul Searcher—Auren—to keep Vesperin safe, and he wouldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been so relieving to share the burden of her.
God, he’d never even admit she was a burden.
She wasn’t. She was his everything. His V girl.
His light. Keeping her safe had been wearing him down.
With Kiton, it had been hard. Alone? It was even harder.
Auren knew that Kiton had also been another piece of Vesperin’s heart. They were both in agreement that his death had not been a mere accident.
If Lucien was to help bring down Blackfall Industries, then it would start not in the upper levels of the lab, but in the deeper, darker corners. Those of which he did not have access to.
If Lucien were found here—
He couldn’t even finish the thought.
The halls were empty. Endless stretches of locked doors upon locked doors. He walked with purpose.
When he passed by the occasional doctor, nurse, or staff, pushing covered carts or beds, the sheets dotted with blood, he kept his head high. And when he passed by guards strolling down the halls with guns on their hips and wickedness in their eyes, he nodded and kept on.
Yes, he should be here.
Yes, everything was okay.
Whatever Project Phoenix was—this weapon—it was important.
Auren had said that whispers of Project Phoenix filled the dark corners of the city. They had been searching for anything to help with understanding Kiton’s death. A paper trail, a message, or an order…
Lucien had said if they wanted to bring down Blackfall Industries, they’d need concrete, undeniable evidence. The Blackfalls influenced even the law in Solar City. They could easily get out of a charge if there wasn’t legitimate proof.
Orchestrating the death of their son? That would be incriminating and would turn public opinion against them.
Ahead, two female doctors walked out of a room, the heavy metal door falling shut behind them. Their faces were lined with exhaustion as they conversed. One of the women met his eyes, and Lucien nodded.
Their conversation was hard to ignore, echoing off the lone halls.
"…this is bigger than what we’re usually called to work on. If they keep this up, I’ll never see my wife."
"The long hours won’t last much longer. The Phoenix has risen."
"I’ve heard that the next phase is almost in effect…"
Lucien worked to control his expression. Phoenix.
As the doctors rounded a corner and left, his feet carried him to the room they’d just vacated. His hand trembled as he tugged the keycard free and swiped it over the panel.
Please work, he prayed.
The light on the panel turned green, and the door unlocked. He masked his surprise as he opened the door, hoping answers would be within.
Inside, the white lights flickered. Rows upon rows of file cabinets. Computers lined one wall. He wouldn’t have access to those.
Lucien walked into the rows of cabinets. Alphabetical order. It was a long shot, but he made for the P’s.
His shadow stretched across the floor, wrong somehow, too large for the lights above. He brushed it off.
The file cabinet was unlocked, and he flipped through the organized stacks.
There.
In small, blocky letters, Project Phoenix.
Lucien glanced at the door, tension lining his shoulders as he pulled free the file. It opened to reveal a singular page.
He scanned over it. Most of the words were blocked through. Classified. Voices sounded in the hall. He took a picture and stuffed the page back inside the folder. It would have to be enough.
The entire walk back down the hall, he didn’t run into anyone. Each door in his path opened with ease. The keycard never locked from being reported stolen, and he slipped it back inside the coat hanging on the rack in the break room.
All the while, the words on the page haunted him.
Subject: Biomechanically Modified Human. Weaponized.
Stella Status: Airborn. Level 3.
Rin watched as the door to the room opened.
She made a fist at her side, wishing, again, for her Echogun—or at the very least, a knife.
After she’d been tested, Valkar had been quiet as he’d taken her and Cyrus back down the halls. Only, he had stopped at a door, urging Cyrus inside with his fiery Stella, all while Rin had cursed the vampire out. Then, he’d taken Rin back to his room and bolted the door shut, telling her to sleep.
Her resolve had been firm at first to use the time to plan, but as the hours stretched on and her eyes grew weary, she’d succumbed to her exhaustion.
The thick bolts being unlatched had awoken her with a start. Now, Rin stared out the dimly lit halls.
Narrowing her eyes, she stood from the bed, tugging down the hem of the shirt she wore. She peered out the door and saw no one.
Mind made up, she ventured out, the carpet plush under her feet.
It was like a maze. Each hall was relatively the same. Most didn’t even have the carpet. She guessed because this was Valkar’s wing. Fit for a crime lord, a sardonic part of her mind whispered.
But she remembered the bare drawers and scant belongings. Rhyden Valkar was a strange male.
She spied the camera in the ceiling’s corner and gave it a little finger wave as she passed.
It was just as childish as he’d proclaimed she was, but at least she owned it.
At the end of the carpeted, windowless hall, a set of double doors lay, cracked just an inch. Shadows shifted underneath. She held her breath as she tiptoed closer.
Voices carried to her.
Rin pressed her ear to the door, shifting carefully to not put too much weight on it and risk giving herself away.
"One week…" Valkar’s voice carried to her, muffled by the door. She held her breath, desperate to hear and calm her racing heart—for once, from fear and unease and not the Nova.
"She doesn’t know?" a voice asked, one that sounded somewhat familiar to her. Where had she heard it before?
"No," Valkar replied. He said something else she didn’t catch, until: "…Solar City."
That she had heard very clearly.
She shifted forward, and her hand fell against the door, making it squeak open a bit further.
All at once, Rin paused.
Shit, she couldn’t be found here!
She made to turn and tiptoe quickly down the hall, but just as she took her first step, unhurried footsteps sounded from the door, and it opened in a swift clang, letting out the heady scent of cigars and iron.
"Looks like I’ve caught a little eavesdropper."
Rin turned, heart in her throat, only to find a male with short-cropped dark blonde hair and cold red eyes peering down at her. He was huge.
And his sights were set right on her.
Rin stumbled back, but the beast of the vampire reached for the back of her shirt and caught it in his hands, tugging her forward harshly. The neckline cut into the front of her throat, and she winced as it cut off her air slightly.
Rin jabbed her elbow into the vampire’s side, but he didn’t even flinch, and her elbow stung from the muscle she’d hit. Dammit.
"Let her go, Daryk," Valkar said, from where he sat at a long, dark wooden dining table.
A red runner was placed down the very center of it, topped with a candelabra and a pitcher of thick red liquid—blood. There were two plates, one before Valkar and the other empty. Had that been for the male holding her? Daryk?
The vampire released her, and Rin smoothed down her shirt and stared daggers up at him. The side of his lips twitched.
"Menacing," he commented, red eyes raking from her bare toes to bed-rumpled hair.
And the tone of his voice…
Her eyes widened. "You’re one of the bastards who broke into the motel!"
"Took you long enough to realize," Daryk said, turning his attention to Valkar like she wasn’t a threat. "Boss, want me to take her back to her room?"
Valkar steepled his hands, rings glinting in the candlelight. "No. Who do you think let her out?"
"You?" Daryk asked, incredulous.
"Of course I did." The crime lord waved a hand, and flames sparked to life, turning to long tendrils that snaked through the air and reached for her. She didn’t have time to back away; the pleasantly warm rope-like flames curled around her wrists and tugged her forward.
Rin gasped as they shoved her into the seat right across from Valkar—the one with the plate before it—and danced in midair, moving to the back of the chair until the flames pushed the chair in.
Then, the flames turned back to ropes, locking tightly around her wrists and pinning them to the armrests.
Rin snarled. "Let me go, you bastard!"
Not looking away from her, Valkar said, "You can go, Daryk. My wife and I have a date."
She wasn’t able to turn and look as the other vampire left, but heard the snick of the door.
Alone with Valkar, Rin cursed and struggled against the flaming bondage.
For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was her heavy breathing and hissed curses, the soft whoosh of the flames as they crackled.
Finally, Valkar took pity on her. "Are you going to stay still, wife?"
"Why should I?" Rin looked up. Her hair hung in her face from her struggles. "You lured me here. This is a fucking trap. Are you finally going to kill me now?" She corrected herself before he could. "No, sorry. Not kill me. But get your revenge."
Valkar’s tongue traced over the tip of his fangs. "I opened the door so you could be free. Don’t make me regret it." The flames left her, and breathless, she leapt from the chair and ran toward the door.
Orange crackled in her periphery, and the flames shot forth, burning in a wide arc right before the door.
Wildly, she took in the room. This was the only exit.
Turning, she met Valkar’s eyes. He still sat at the dining table, unperturbed at the violence in her expression.
"Why did you bring me here?"
He ignored her question. "I won’t bind you to the chair, but if you try to leave the room or hurt yourself," he warned, "I will. Don’t fucking test me."