22. Cayenne
Chapter 22
Cayenne
“Is that a floating unicorn?” I squint against the summer sun as Jinx tosses an inflatable monstrosity into the sparkling pool water. “Why does it have... combat boots?”
“Battle unicorn,” Jinx clarifies with a grin that borders on manic. “For tactical pool assaults.”
The backyard has transformed into something I barely recognize—string lights zigzagging overhead, the grill sizzling with burgers while Ryker stands guard with military precision, spatula in hand like it’s a tactical weapon. Theo arranges fresh-cut fruit on a platter with artistic flair, each piece placed with the same care he uses on his piano keys. Finn adjusts the music, his movements still careful. The vaccine has stabilized him, but the shadows under his eyes tell a different story—this improvement is temporary.
It’s almost disgustingly domestic. And somehow, I don’t hate it.
“Your chemical balance is sub-optimal,” Mona announces, appearing poolside in what might be the world’s most perplexing swimwear—a tutu over a wetsuit, paired with bright yellow goggles. “Highly inefficient chlorination. Much bacterial vulnerability.” She glances toward the wine cellar doors at the edge of the patio, a split-second look that would seem random if I hadn’t been watching for her tells.
“The pool is fine, Mona,” Ryker says without looking up from his grilling station, turning patties with the focused attention of a bomb technician.
“Fine is mediocre. Mediocre is?—”
“Fatal. We know.” Finn coughs, the sound wet and concerning despite his improvement. The harsh noise cuts through the summer air like a blade.
Mona’s head tilts, her manic energy pausing as her eyes narrow. “Respiratory efficiency decreasing. Interesting. Your viral response shows degradation.”
“I’m fine,” Finn insists, but Mona is already in his personal space, listening to his lungs with a candy-colored stethoscope that appears from nowhere.
“Fascinating. The cell mediated immune response is recalibrating.” She pokes Finn’s chest with a finger capped in neon green nail polish. “You need a booster.”
“A what?” I ask, moving closer, something cold settling in my stomach despite the warmth of the day.
“Booster. Very important. Stabilizes T-cell response. Prevents viral mutation. Maintains vaccine efficiency.” She rocks back on her heels, suddenly all business beneath her chaotic exterior. “Without it, regression probability increases seventy-nine percent.”
“You didn’t mention a booster before,” Ryker points out, spatula raised like it might be a weapon.
Mona waves dismissively. “Obviously needed. Viral characteristics highly adaptive. Much mutation potential.”
Finn coughs again, harder this time, doubling over. The sound reverberates through his chest like something breaking. The deterioration I’ve been dreading all afternoon has begun. A flash of genuine concern crosses Mona’s face before her usual chaos mask slides back into place.
“I’ll prepare injection. Very precise formula. Much specialized equipment.” She bounces on her toes, already calculating something behind those too-sharp eyes. “Need to retrieve components from secure storage location. Very carefully hidden. Much preparation already done.”
“After dinner,” Finn interrupts, straightening with visible effort. “Let’s just... have this. One normal thing before more needles.” His voice carries a quiet plea that makes my chest ache.
Mona pauses, head tilted as she runs calculations behind her eyes. “Acceptable timeline. Viral progression remains within manageable parameters for approximately three hours and seventeen minutes.”
“Such a comfort,” Finn mutters, but relief softens his features.
She bounces toward the house. “Will gather supplies. Very specialized components. Much preparation needed.”
“I really am feeling better,” Finn insists once she’s gone, though the patches of color high on his cheeks suggest otherwise.
Theo silently passes him a glass of water, his touch lingering on Finn’s wrist where his pulse beats visibly. “Let her help when dinner’s done.”
“Let her do her weird science,” I agree, remembering Alexander’s injections and the fire they set in my veins. “Meanwhile, I’m testing that battle unicorn.”
I peel off my cover-up, revealing the black bikini I found buried in one of the bags Aria packed. It’s nothing special, practical enough for actual swimming, but I feel suddenly self-conscious as conversation stutters to a halt around me.
Jinx lets out a low whistle. “Fuck me sideways, Glitch. Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?”
“Language,” Ryker scolds, but his eyes linger with unmistakable heat.
“What?” I glance down at myself. “It’s just a swimsuit.”
“Just a—” Jinx chokes on the words.
Theo smiles, slow and appreciative. “You look beautiful, piccola.”
“Very strategic,” Finn adds, his analytical gaze warming. “Maximum mobility, minimal drag coefficient.”
I roll my eyes to hide the flush creeping up my neck. “You’re all ridiculous.”
I look away at the pool water knowing it’s going to feel cold but at least it’ll calm the arousal pulsing through me. I run towards it and jump.
The water hits like a shock to the system—cool against sun-warmed skin, the chemical tang of chlorine sharp in my nostrils. It washes away weeks of tension in a single submersion. I surface with a gasp, hair streaming into my eyes just as Jinx cannon-balls beside me, the resulting wave washing over me again with enough force to push me back underwater for a moment. When I resurface, spluttering and laughing, even Ryker is smiling.
“Points for enthusiasm,” Theo laughs, dipping his feet in the shallow end. “Minus several for technique.”
A shriek cuts through our laughter as Mona belly-flops into the deep end with surprising grace. She surfaces, hair plastered to her head, eyes wide with what might be genuine joy.
“Hydrostatic pressure creates fascinating sensory input! Very stimulating! Much physics!”
It’s the most normal I’ve ever seen her.
Even Ryker eventually joins us, his careful control sliding as Jinx initiates what he calls tactical water operations but is really just an elaborate game of tag. For once, no one’s discussing Sterling or viruses or mission parameters. Just chlorine, sunshine, and the kind of laughter that makes your stomach hurt.
Finn stays at the edge, content to watch until Theo coaxes him into the shallow end. His breathing seems labored, but his smile looks real.
“Food’s ready,” Ryker announces eventually.
We collapse onto pool chairs, dripping and laughing. My eyes catch Finn’s, and something unspoken passes between us—an acknowledgment of this fragile moment of peace. His hand finds mine briefly, his skin too warm, but his grip stronger than yesterday.
That’s when the alarms start blaring.
The sound cuts through everything like a knife, high-pitched wailing that sends us scrambling. Ryker moves first, already sprinting toward the house with deadly focus, water still streaming from his shorts.
“Security breach,” Jinx explains unnecessarily, pulling me toward the doors. “Multiple sectors.”
We follow Ryker to the security hub, leaving wet footprints through the house. The monitors show what I already know in my gut—men in tactical gear surrounding the property. At least twenty of them, moving with military precision.
“Alexander,” I whisper, recognizing the figure directing the operation from a black SUV. Even at this distance, I can see his smile—that cold, calculated curve that never reaches his eyes.
“How did they find us?” Theo asks, eyes scanning the feeds.
A sick realization dawns on me. The vaccine. Mona said Sterling’s virus targets genetic markers. My father must have a way to track Sterling DNA—which means he could track me. Or Mona. Or both of us.
“Irrelevant,” Mona states, appearing in the doorway. Her wetsuit drips on the floor, but her eyes are razor-sharp. “Perimeter breached. Very serious situation. Much imminent danger. Approximately four minutes until building infiltration.”
Ryker begins issuing orders, every inch the tactical commander. “Jinx, weapons and essential gear. Theo, get Finn and head for the garage tunnels. Cayenne, secure the data and research.”
My fingers are already flying across the keyboard, initiating emergency data protocols. “And Mona?”
“I need to retrieve critical research components,” she says. “Very specialized. Much scientific importance.”
“What about Finn’s booster?” Theo asks, supporting Finn who’s looking worse by the minute, his breathing increasingly labored. The exertion of getting out of the pool has accelerated his decline.
Mona’s fingers tap against her thigh in rapid calculation. “Preparation incomplete. Requires approximately twelve more minutes of synthesis.”
“We don’t have twelve minutes,” Ryker points out.
“Then we adapt,” she says simply. “Very flexible. Much contingency planning.”
“Be quick,” Ryker orders. “Meet at extraction point alpha in seven minutes. Theo’s tunnels, eastern entrance.”
Mona nods once. “Known. Mapped extensively. Very efficient escape route.”
Theo raises an eyebrow. “You mapped my tunnels?”
“Obviously. First day here. Very thorough. Much preparation. Just in case.” She doesn’t look remotely apologetic.
The monitors suddenly switch to static, then flicker back to life showing Alexander’s face.
“Hello, sister.” His voice fills the room, cold as a grave. “Did I interrupt family time?”
“How dramatic,” Mona mutters. “Very cliché villain monologue.”
“What do you want?” Ryker demands.
“Just a family reunion. My sisters are being most uncooperative. Perhaps you’ll be more reasonable.”
“Which sister?” I ask, buying time as I continue the data transfer. “You’ve got two.”
“Oh, I already have Mona.” His smile widens.
My head whips toward Mona standing right beside me, equally confused.
“Fascinating,” she whispers to me. “Much deception. Very poor execution.”
Alexander’s expression falters for just a second. “Always playing games, Cayenne. But I know how to end them. You have five minutes to surrender before we burn your little sanctuary to the ground. With everyone inside it.”
The feed cuts off.
“He’s bluffing,” Jinx says, returning with an arsenal strapped to his body.
“Probability of bluffing approximately seven percent,” Mona calculates. “Alexander doesn’t make empty threats.”
“We need to move,” Ryker decides. “Now.”
As we prepare to split up, I catch Mona checking her watch. “Where’s your lab equipment?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
“Guest house. Very organized. Color-coded.” But she doesn’t meet my eyes—the first genuine tell I’ve ever caught from her.
“Finn needs that booster,” Theo reminds her, supporting Finn who’s looking worse by the minute, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggles to draw a full breath.
“I’ll get it,” Jinx volunteers.
“No,” I interrupt. “Jinx, get Finn to the extraction point. I’ll help Mona get whatever she needs for the booster.”
“That’s not the plan,” Ryker argues.
“Plans change,” I counter, remembering our earlier conversation. “I know Mona’s lab layout, and I’ve just finished the data transfer. Let me do this.” I don’t add what we’re all thinking—Finn is deteriorating fast, and Mona’s chaotic genius will work faster with someone she trusts. Someone with Sterling blood.
Reluctance crosses his face, but efficiency wins out. “Five minutes. Then we leave. With or without you.”
“Understood.”
As they prepare to leave, I catch Jinx’s eye. “Take care of them.”
“Always do, Glitch.” His expression softens for just a moment. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Unless he is chasing me for something very different than this moment.
The minute they’re gone, I turn to Mona. “You’re not going to the guest house, are you?”
She tilts her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Fascinating deduction. Very perceptive. Much unexpected.”
“Cut the act. Where are you really going?”
Her mask drops completely, her eyes suddenly clear and focused. “Wine cellar. Secured additional supplies. Hidden compartment. Daddy’s people won’t find.”
“The real booster?”
“And more. Much more. Emergency contingency. Very elaborate plan.” She’s already moving, tugging me along with surprising strength. “Come. Limited timeframe. Much danger.”
We move through the mansion like shadows, taking service corridors while Alexander’s team begins breaching the outer doors. Mona navigates Theo’s tunnels with unnerving precision, ducking into the wine cellar through a hidden entrance I’d never have noticed.
Inside, she hurries to a rack of vintage bottles, spinning it to reveal a false back filled with equipment, vials, and a small refrigeration unit.
“How long have you been planning this?” I ask as she gathers supplies with practiced efficiency.
“Since first day here. Always prepare. Very consistent. Much paranoia.” She pauses, something genuine flickering in her eyes. “Fourteen years and seventy-three days of sabotage. Sometimes it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Sabotaging your father?”
“Creating order from his chaos,” she corrects, the usual manic energy momentarily giving way to something hard and focused. “He thinks he’s correcting the world. I’m correcting him.”
She pulls out a reinforced case, opening it to reveal dozens of carefully labeled vials. “Finn’s booster. Very specialized. Much viral neutralization.”
“What else are you taking?”
Her smile turns predatory. “Insurance. Also apocalypse prevention.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning daddy’s research fails without these components. Very critical sequence. Much vaccine sabotage.”
Understanding dawns. “You’re still sabotaging his research.”
“Always. Very consistent. Much dedication.”
An explosion above us sends dust raining from the ceiling. “Time to go,” I urge.
“Almost done. Very precise equipment. Much delicate components.”
I check my watch—we’ve already exceeded our five-minute window.
Another explosion, closer this time.
“Mona, now!”
She finally nods, securing the reinforced case. “Exit route through maintenance tunnel. Very discreet. Much escape potential.”
We move quickly through narrow corridors, the sounds of combat echoing somewhere above us. The extraction point is close—just through the utility room and out to the garage tunnels. We might actually make it.
“Stop,” Mona whispers suddenly, freezing in place.
I follow her gaze to the security camera in the corner—its indicator light blinking rapidly in an irregular pattern.
“Pattern disruption. Very concerning. Much unexpected surveillance.”
“Meaning?”
“Someone watching. Not pack. Not security system.”
My blood runs cold. “How close is the alternate exit?”
“Two corridors. Very accessible. Much escape potential.” She points to a maintenance shaft to our right. “Theo’s emergency exit. Leads to eastern perimeter.”
“Lead the way.”
We change direction, moving through maintenance areas toward a different exit. My heart hammers against my ribs—the pack is waiting at the original extraction point. Every step away from them feels wrong, like tearing out stitches before the wound has healed.
“Almost there,” Mona whispers as we approach a heavy metal door. “Exit leads to eastern perimeter. Forest cover approximately twelve meters from exit point.”
She keys in a code, the door unlocking with a mechanical thunk.
That’s when I hear it—footsteps behind us, measured and purposeful.
“How predictable,” a familiar voice says. “Always running, little sisters.”
We turn slowly to find Alexander blocking our retreat, a tactical team spread behind him.
“Hello, Xander,” Mona greets, using the childhood name he hates. “Still doing daddy’s dirty work?”
His jaw tightens—the first tell Mona identified in her candy lessons. “And you’re still playing the chaotic genius. How tiresome.” His eyes flick to me, something like genuine curiosity there. “I never understood why father was so interested in you, but now I’m beginning to see it. Same stubborn streak. Same inability to recognize when you’re outmatched.”
“Or maybe,” I counter, “we just recognize that some things are worth fighting for. When’s the last time you fought for anything besides daddy’s approval?”
The flash of raw emotion that crosses his face tells me I’ve hit a nerve deeper than I intended.
Mona shifts slightly, angling her body between Alexander and the case she carries. A calculated move that doesn’t escape his notice.
“What are you protecting, Mona?” His eyes narrow. “More sabotage?”
“Obviously. Very consistent. Much dedication.”
I’m mapping escape routes, calculating odds, while they continue their sibling standoff. The ventilation shaft to our left might be wide enough. The service elevator behind Alexander’s team would require fighting through them first.
“Enough games,” Alexander says, his patience visibly fraying. “Hand over the case, Mona.”
“Probability of compliance approximately zero percent,” she replies.
His movement is lightning-fast—the gun appearing in his hand like a magic trick. But he doesn’t aim at Mona.
He aims at me.
“The case,” he repeats. “Or our Beta experiment ends.”
Mona doesn’t flinch. “You won’t kill her. Daddy wants her alive.”
“Alive doesn’t mean intact.” His smile chills me to the bone. “How many fingers does one really need to hack, after all?”
His attention is fully on me now, cataloging my every reaction. But he’s forgotten something crucial—I’ve been learning too. Not just from the pack, but from him. From Mona.
I see the slight favor of his left side. The almost imperceptible shifting of weight that Mona documented in her candy lessons.
Forty-three seconds. That’s how long his equilibrium will be compromised with the right hit.
“Last chance,” Alexander warns.
Mona’s eyes meet mine, a silent message passing between us. All her chaos and calculation distilled into one look.
“Fine,” she sighs dramatically. “Much cooperation. Very surrender.”
She steps forward, case extended.
Alexander reaches for it with his free hand, gun still trained on me.
That’s when I move—not toward him, but toward the door Mona unlocked. The unexpected direction catches him off guard, his reaction a split second too slow.
As he turns, adjusting his aim, Mona strikes—precise and brutal, targeting that sweet spot behind his left ear. Just as she taught me.
Alexander staggers, equilibrium shattered, but recovers faster than we anticipated. His tactical team surges forward, but Mona is already shoving me through the door.
“Run,” she hisses, pressing the case into my hands. “Find your pack. Very important mission. Much world-saving potential.”
“I’m not leaving you?—”
Her smile is genuine for once. “Not leaving. Creating diversion. Very dramatic. Much calculated risk.”
Before I can argue, she slams the door between us, the lock engaging with a final-sounding click.
I press my ear to the metal, hearing the chaos erupt on the other side.
“Your sister is quite resourceful,” Alexander’s voice carries through faintly. “I wonder if you are too.”
“Obviously. Very genetic. Much consistency.”
A gunshot echoes, followed by the sound of something shattering.
“Oops,” Mona’s voice taunts. “Very loud. Much evidence destruction.”
Another shot. Then silence.
My heart hammers in my chest. Every instinct screams to go back for her, but the weight of the case in my hands reminds me of what’s at stake. Find the pack. Deliver the research. Save Finn.
Except, my feet don’t move.
I hear a small whimper from beyond the door—Mona—and adrenaline floods my bloodstream.
I drop the case to the ground, my decision made. Some things matter more than plans. Even world-saving ones.
The Sterling in me might have run to save the mission. But the person I’ve become—the one who’s learned about family and pack—knows you never leave anyone behind.
Not even your crazy sister.