52. The Main Course
FIFTY-TWO
THE MAIN COURSE
Seven
“ W e’re delighted, if a little confused, to have you back, Seven!” Baxter’s voice boomed through the intercom.
I stumbled into the space, cursing the stupid ankle cuffs, frantically searching for Jack. His scent filled my nostrils, but I couldn’t see him. Nor could I see Baxter. Where were they?
“I suppose you thought you and your idiot half-breed mate were being clever, sneaking back in here, pretending you were his prisoner. But what I can’t fathom is why? Why, when you were out, free and clear, and capable of decimating an entire unit of my men with the help of your new Shifter friends, would you choose to come back here?”
“To make you pay,” I snarled, stalking further into the cavernous room. “But I forgot what a coward you are.” The far wall seemed to be made of something reflective. A mirrored wall, perhaps? I wondered if they’d brought me to one of the G Block training rooms. They’d had mirrored walls so we could watch the way our bodies moved.
Baxter’s chuckle was ghastly. “Is it cowardice, though? Or is it smart? A smart man knows his limits. He doesn’t throw himself under the bus against a much stronger enemy. He uses the resources at his disposal instead.”
“And yet, you are the one who made us your enemies,” I countered, hoping I could keep him talking long enough to get my bearings. To find Jack.
A light flashed on in the distance. I blinked, my feline eyes adjusting rapidly.
They weren’t mirrors on the wall. It was glass. Glass that had been opaque until the lights were switched on.
And behind the glass …
Jack. Head slumped. Locked into a chair with metal at his neck, wrists, and ankles. Blood snaked from the cannula in his arm into a bag. And from that bag … into Baxter.
My teeth and claws shot out, but I managed to hold the rest of the shift at bay. I was still chained, and the last thing I needed was to decapitate myself by shifting in that collar.
I couldn’t react. I couldn’t let Baxter know how feral this made me. If he called his cowardice smart, well … I’d just have to outsmart him.
Jack’s survival relied on me.
“I thought you hated our kind,” I grated, stalking closer to the glass. It would be bulletproof, of that I was certain. We’d been tested against bulletproof glass. I’d never managed to break it. Not in human form. Not in tiger form. I couldn’t just smash and grab. “But here you are, taking … his blood into your body.”
Baxter smirked, lifting a small device to his mouth and speaking into it. “I can hate you and still find use for you.” His voice boomed through hidden speakers. “We’ve had some very positive results with Stranger blood, transfused into human hosts. And when I discovered that your mate here is an Echo … well, it just felt like a sign for me to trial his extra potent blood on myself.”
We will fuck him up. Break every single bone in his body, and then slowly disembowel him, the whisper vowed.
A warning growl rumbled in my chest.
Baxter laughed.
“You’re full of killing energy right now, aren’t you, Seven? You always were one of the more promising Guardians we trained. Sometimes, I wonder if moving you to R Block was a disservice. But then again, having a large population of half-breeds capable of murder was a bit risky. Especially when Operation Stranger’s goals shifted.
“We’re no longer in the business of using our half-breed force to eradicate Purebloods. We’re working towards a much better solution. Would you like a demonstration? I’ll let you out of those restraints for it.”
So much for smart—he’s a fucking fool , the whisper said. Let us out, give us the edge.
But I wasn’t certain that Baxter was that foolish. He wouldn’t let me out if he wasn’t confident he was safe from me.
I nodded, and Baxter lifted a remote and pressed it. My chains fell off, clattering to the concrete floor. The room shuddered.
Was that an … explosion? The chains couldn’t have made the floor shake like that, could they?
I think it might have been … the whisper agreed. Or maybe it was that …
A light flashed on in another part of the wall, illuminating another room. A room with three men in it. Three utterly monstrous men who towered over me. Their muscles were bulging and corded as they pounded on the glass. It shook under their onslaught but didn’t crack.
“It’s incredible what a couple of months of daily blood infusions will do to a human, isn’t it?” Baxter mused. He reached over and shoved Jack, whose head snapped up. “You don’t want to sleep through this show, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes found mine, and he jerked violently against the metal caging him to the chair.
“Seven!” His mouth formed the word, but I couldn’t hear a sound. His neck strained, his face white, terrified, and furious, his eyes flicking to Baxter. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I could read every word on his lips, my heart hammering, wishing I could hear his voice.
“Hope you’re ready, Seven,” Baxter said. There was another loud rumble as the glass separating those giants from me disappeared into the roof. The men caught sight of me, their faces lighting up with bloodthirsty mania.
They’re insane , the whisper gasped. The blood has made them crazed.
I had to agree as the men approached slowly as if savoring the anticipation of tearing me apart. I eyed them all, weighing my chances.
Not great. But not impossible either.
Let me out , the whisper urged. I gave in to the tingle of the shift, dropping into a crouch as soon as we settled into our tiger form.
“Filthy fucking Shifter!” one of the men swore. “Shift back, and we can have some real fun with you before you die.”
He gripped his groin.
He dies first , the whisper decided.
We lunged, moving so fast we were an orange and black blur, launching at his throat. Our teeth wrapped around it, and we bit down, tearing it out before he even had a chance to react. Blood gushed, and we leaped away as he fell, the other two jumping backward as he crashed to the floor.
We spat out the chunk of his throat, grimacing at the bitter taste of his blood.
That’s not natural , the whisper rasped.
Not even slightly.
But the other two moved faster now, working together, coming at us from opposite angles.
They might have been huge and powerful, but they didn’t have claws, or teeth, or our speed.
Still, two of them …
We crouched low and darted between both of them, spinning fast and leaping onto the back of the taller of the two. Our claws pierced his shoulders, and as he tried to shake us off, we raked them down his back. Ribbons of bloody flesh tore from his skin, exposing the white of his ribs. He roared. We clawed our way up his back once more, swiping our claws across his throat. Blood sprayed, and he crashed to the floor.
A growl erupted from us, pain exploding from our lower back. The other one had punched us there. We rolled away from the second dead monster, struggling to our feet and limping from the pain.
A dislocated hip. The last one grinned ferally, advancing slowly.
“Try and jump for my throat now, freak,” he snarled. “Wonder how it will feel when I toss you across the room by your fucking tail?”
We backed away, our injured hip trembling under the load of our body.
What do we do? I asked the whisper frantically. We can’t fix a dislocation in this form.
The whisper had no answer as the brute lumbered closer.
The room rocked with a giant boom, the huge man staggering to the side, momentarily distracted.
Ignoring the pain in our hip, we forced ourselves to lunge. Straight for his groin. Our teeth locked around his genitals, and we ripped them from his body.
He screamed, falling to his side.
Make sure he doesn’t get up again , the whisper snarled. We limped closer. His face was pale, blood spurting from between his legs.
Seems a shame to not sit and watch him bleed out like this , I thought. But the whisper was right.
We opened our jaw wide, fitting it around his skull. He made a low moan, cut off suddenly when we bit down and tugged, tearing the top half of his head off.
Spitting out skull and brain and hair, we limped away from the gory scene, shifting back into our human form. The whisper retreated, satisfied with our kills.
We gripped our leg and twisted, screeching out our pain as the hip joint ground back into place.
“Such a survivor,” Baxter applauded from the safety of his room.
I was naked, and filthy, and I hurt everywhere. But I was going to kill him. And he still didn’t realize it.
I let my fury wash over me, burning away the edge of my pain. And then I fixed a cold glare on him. In my periphery, Jack was panting violently, his skin almost gray. How much blood were they taking? How much blood would they pump into Baxter? He looked almost swollen, his skin ruddy.
Too much. We’re running out of time, the whisper urged.
Another quake shook the room. A crack appeared in the concrete beneath my feet. Jack’s eyes locked on mine, pleading.
Run! he mouthed at me. Go now!
I shook my head. Not without you! I mouthed back.
“That was almost too easy for you, wasn’t it, Seven?” A smirk lit the edges of Baxter’s mouth. “Luckily that was just the appetizer. I hope you’re still hungry because the main course is about to be served.”
He’s as insane as the others. We need to put him down asap.
Another light flashed on in another room.
My heart stopped.
It was Two.