Chapter 18
18
T he monitors in Sebastian’s office hum, the quiet shuffle of feet and breathing filtering through the speakers. The hit team’s body cams show them approaching the dirty white building of the Doctor’s laboratory, and my heart races, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. I grip my blanket closer, inhaling Damien’s calming pheromones.
Sebastian sits at his control station, while Milo paces behind him, the light tap of his shoes echoing in the small room.
“Okay, team, you’re coming up on the south entrance now,” Milo says into his headset, his melodic voice clipped as he briefs Damien’s team.
I try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps drifting, pulled between the loving present and painful flashbacks. Was it selfish of me not to talk Damien out of rushing this mission? Should I have told him the Doctor wasn’t important enough, and that the lab should wait until the larger-scale attack on all the known associates was ready, when more soldiers would be available?
The thought fills me with nauseating guilt, and I wonder if I should have listened to Damien and stayed in our suite. But the thought of waiting alone, not knowing what was happening, sent me into a spiral of anxiety that nearly sent me under the bed to hide.
The camera feeds switch as the team enters the building, white-walled corridors and metal doors filling the screens.
The familiar sights hit me like a punch to the gut, and I dig my fingers into the armrests, fighting the urge to flee as phantom sensations assault me.
Cold metal restraints biting into my skin.
Searing pain.
Muffled screams that might be my own.
Blinking hard, I wrench my eyes back to Damien’s body cam. His confident, steady movements as he clears each room should comfort me, but it can’t stop the rising tide of dread. Horrifying things lurk behind those doors.
“…Team Two, head left down the east wing,” Milo says, the words fading in and out through the ringing in my ears as I stare at the monitor, unable to look away.
I have to stay present. No shutting down. Damien needs me to be strong. Counting isn’t helping, so what do I feel?
One, the nubby texture of the canvas chair fabric.
As the cameras pan over familiar hallways, my resolve starts to crumble faster, memories of my time at the lab trying to drag me under. Praying my past demons won’t put the man I love in danger, I cling to the blanket like a lifeline.
Two, the softness of the fabric.
Please let him make it through this.
Three, the bite of my nails into my palm.
On the screen, Damien’s long strides lead his team deeper into the facility.
“Hey.” Milo cuts through my spiraling thoughts as he stops next to my chair, his hand over his microphone. “You okay, Seven?”
Not trusting my voice, I manage a shaky nod.
Milo studies me for a moment, his beautiful features softening. “He’s gonna be fine. Damien knows what he’s doing.”
I want to believe him, but as the team’s cameras flick between sterile rooms filled with gleaming equipment, my stomach churns with anxiety. Each image dredges up memories I tried so hard to bury.
Without warning, shouts erupt from the speakers, followed by the unmistakable crack of gunfire. Damien’s camera jerks and then drops, and I lurch forward, my breath catching.
No, no, no…
“Team One, report!” Milo barks into his microphone, steady despite the tension coiling in his slender frame.
“Lab security engaging,” comes Damien’s response. “Returning fire.”
More shots ring out, echoing through the room, and I grip my blanket so tightly that the edges dig into my shoulders where it wraps around me. Every instinct screams at me to run, to hide, but I force myself to stay rooted, glued to Damien’s camera as it jerks and weaves with his movements.
Please be okay , I pray. I can’t lose him. Not like this.
I never should have let him do this. I should have been stronger, should have begged him to not go.
Sebastian shifts in his chair, his head turning toward me. “You need to breathe, Seven.”
I suck in a shuddering breath past the vise around my chest that’s squeezing tighter with every gunshot that crackles through the speakers.
“If this is too much, you can go to the library,” Sebastian suggests. “Leo can keep you company until this is over.”
For a moment, I’m tempted. The thought of being away from these screens, from the reminders of my past, is appealing.
Then Damien’s voice cuts through the mayhem, barking orders to his team, and I shake my head. “No, I need to stay to see this through.”
“Okay.” Sebastian settles back in his chair, his attention returning to his keyboard.
I turn back to the monitors, my heart in my throat as Damien navigates the halls of the facility.
This has to work. We have to shut them down. If we don’t, if they keep hurting people like they hurt me… I can’t finish the thought. The memories are too close, too raw.
Damien crackles through the speakers again, and I latch onto it like a lifeline. So long as he’s still fighting, still breathing, my past can’t hurt us.
The monitor pans across a room stacked with medical crates and files. My breath catches in my throat as a chair with leather straps and metal prongs fills the monitor. The chair where they…
Memories flood my mind. Cold metal biting into my skin. The searing pain as they pumped me full of chemicals. The helpless terror as they stripped away my humanity, piece by piece.
Milo’s voice sounds from a distance. “We’ve got movement in the adjoining corridor. Three heat signatures.”
“Copy that,” Damien responds. “Proceeding with caution.”
The words barely register as the horror of the past drowns me. I want to scream, to rage, to tear the whole place down with my bare hands. Seeing the chair again reminds me of how I felt at the time, like they reached inside my body and hollowed me out. In that chair, they took something from me that I never thought I’d get back.
I flinch back to the present as the camera feed erupts with more shouting and gunfire.
An ambush.
My heart seizes as Damien’s team scatters, taking cover behind crates and equipment. My hand flies up to cover my mouth, to stop myself from calling out to him. I can’t distract him. Not now, when every second counts.
The copper tang of blood fills my mouth as I bite my lip. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. All I can do is watch.
Milo barks orders as he paces from one screen to the other. Tension fills his shoulders as he does everything he can to guide the team to safety.
I take a breath to steady myself, to remember that Damien’s well-trained, that he’s done this before.
He’ll come back to me. He has to. Because if he doesn’t… if I lose him…
No. I can’t think like that. I won’t.
I force my attention back to the screen, watching as Damien and his team fight their way through the ambush. Every shot fired, every cry of pain, punches through my heart, but I don’t turn away. This is the only way I can be with him right now, the only way I can stand by his side.
No matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts, I won’t abandon him.
Not now, not ever.
As the firefight rages on, I spot a door on one of the monitors, hidden behind a stack of crates.
“There!” I point at the screen. “That door leads to a storage room. It’s where the Doctor keeps all the confidential data.”
Milo leans in, studying the image. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” My pulse pounds. “If they can get in there, they might find out more about the Doctor’s benefactors.”
Milo relays the information to Damien’s team, and they move toward the door. A grunt sounds, and a spray of blood streaks across the wall in front of one of the monitors as a soldier goes down.
Drawing my blanket up, I let out a choked sob. It’s too much, too real, and no amount of lingering pheromones can calm the panic. I scramble off the chair, retreating to a corner and curling in on myself as the panic takes hold. My body shakes, my breath coming in sharp gasps.
Milo breaks through the haze, gentle but insistent. “Seven, hey. Look at me.”
I blink back tears.
“Damien wouldn’t want you to suffer like this,” Milo says. “He’s fighting for you, for all of us. He needs you to be strong.”
I swallow hard. “I… I can’t lose him. I can’t.”
“You won’t.” Milo’s words leave no room for doubt. “Damien’s coming home to you.”
I take a deep, shuddering breath and push to my feet, walking back to the monitors. The fight still rages on, but I force myself to focus.
I scan the monitors, searching for anything to give Damien’s team an advantage.
“There’s a ventilation shaft,” I say. “It runs right above the storage room. If someone can squeeze through, they might catch them by surprise.”
Milo relays the information. One of the soldiers breaks away from the group to head toward the shaft.
Please let this work.
The minutes drag by, and then the soldier drops from the shaft, right into the middle of the storage room, catching the men inside off guard. The soldier shoots them before they can react, then moves to the computer, his fingers flying over the keys.
“I’m in.” He pops a memory stick into the computer. “Files downloading now. Appears to be details on the backers. Names, locations, test subjects, everything.”
My heart skips a beat, my mind racing with the possibilities. With this information, we can tear down everyone who had a hand in these experiments.
My knees weaken with relief, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. They did it. We did it.
But the fight isn’t over yet. Gunfire and the shouts of the soldiers still come from other monitors. Damien is still in danger.
I scan the videos, searching for the one with his body cam. When I locate it, the feed shows him moving down a corridor, his weapon at the ready, his team flanking him on either side.
“Damien.” Tension stiffens Milo’s back. “You’ve got incoming.”
More guards are pouring into the corridor, their weapons drawn.
Damien and his team are outnumbered and out-gunned, but they meet the guards head-on, their weapons blazing. Damien takes down one, then another, his movements swift and deadly.
In the feed from someone else’s body cams, I spot a guard sneaking up behind Damien, his weapon aimed at my Alpha’s back.
“Damien!” I shout, forgetting for a moment that he can’t hear me. “Behind you!”
Too late, the guard fires, and Damien jerks, his body cam showing dizzying images of the walls and floor as his body falls to the ground.
And then everything goes dark.