Epilogue
A delay due to a mechanical issue had General Walt Davidson arriving a day later than planned to find his lab in ruins.
Soon as the chopper landed, Walt disembarked and scowled at the smoldering remains of yet another facility. When the soldiers he’d brought would have joined him, he waved them off. He wanted to wallow in his ire alone.
He stalked toward the smoldering remains, kicking a satchel in his path, from which spilled papers. Research notes in Levy’s handwriting. A further glance around showed body parts strewn, including a recognizable head. The doctor was dead.
But who did this? If the general had to guess, he’d been betrayed once more by one of those he’d graciously transformed.
They really had no appreciation for the gift he’d given them.
Ungrateful bastards caused him to lose everything.
His ranking in the Canadian military, his wife—who wasn’t much of a prize, granted, but he hated she got to keep the house and all his money—and now he didn’t even have a base of operation.
Most likely he’d lose those financially backing him, too.
It would be difficult to convince another government or group of oligarchs to give him a chance, not without a sample of the protocol, the research, or Dr. Levy.
What did that leave?
Revenge.
“I will find you and hunt you all to the ends of the Earth!” he cried, shaking his fist to the sky. A sky full of low dark clouds, and from them a bird swooped. A big one. It spiraled downward, and Walt gaped.
That wasn’t a bird, but Patient Thirty-nine.
“Oh fuck.” Before Walt could even think to run, or pull his gun, Patient Thirty-nine slammed into Davidson and ripped. Shredded Walt to pieces so quickly and severely he couldn’t shift to heal.
The general died, a victim of his own arrogance and greed, and when only chunks of meat littered the ground, with a dark chuckle, Patient Thirty-nine, who used to be known as Thomas, returned to the skies.
Mission accomplished.
Now onto the next item on his list.
Cleansing the world of aberrations.
Hiro, AKA Patient Zero, chafed in his new clothes. It had been so long since he’d worn anything but loose scrubs that the denim felt rough on his flesh.
But he’d get used to it, probably around the same time he got comfortable with being free. Years he’d spent locked away. Years of being poked, prodded, tormented. A man who’d endured so much in the name of family, only to lose the one reason he’d been holding on.
His niece, Lin.
Her loss broke him. She’d not deserved what happened. Couldn’t handle it and took the only way out she could think of.
An escape he’d almost emulated.
Tatiana slipped her hand in his, a slight tremble to her fingers letting him know she was just as anxious.
Levy had placed her with him with one goal.
To force him to want to live. And damn that bastard.
It worked, although not in the way they expected.
Davidson had hoped he’d take the young girl as his lover.
Gross. She was a year younger than his niece.
However, her presence, especially how she flinched whenever anyone came close or even spoke to her, brought out Hiro’s protective instinct.
“It’s okay, Tatty.” He talked to her softly, not wanting her to startle.
“What happens now?” she whispered.
Freya, the bold and fearsome woman who’d blown up the place of his torture, stalked toward them with single-minded focus. “You two ready to hit the road?” Freya had offered to help them settle somewhere hopefully safe.
“We’re ready,” Hiro replied.
“Good. Takhi came through with passports and other documents. Your new names are Harry and Tammy Nguyen. Ages are the same, but you’ll need to memorize your new birth dates. Oh, and come up with a back story since you’re supposed to be father and daughter.”
He grimaced. He hated the fact he couldn’t use his true name. “We’ve been working on our history.”
“Good. We’ll practice it during our trip to Switzerland.” A place with mountains they could hide in.
Or so they’d hoped. Takhi contacted them while en route to let them know about a massacre in Russia. Five people dead. Torn apart by an animal.
And why did it matter? Because those five had been part of the group that escaped.
Within the month, the other eleven died, too, in just as horrific a fashion.
And Hiro had a feeling whatever killed them wasn’t done.
Somewhere in Greece…
A grim-looking Takhi knocked on Yuri’s door—because the woman insisted on separate rooms. He’d never seen someone so determined to fight her attraction.
“Just in time to join me for a shower,” he stated, answering with a grin.
“Not the time for jokes. We’ve got a problem.”
“What’s wrong? Is Svetlana okay?”
“She is, for now, but everyone needs to be careful.”
His lips pinched. “Why? What’s happened?”
“The remaining people we rescued from the lab in Russia are dead.”
“Oof.” Yuri blew out a breath. “The KGB is cleaning up loose ends.”
“Does the KGB tend to rip apart people with claws?”
His brows raised. “Seems more likely one of them went rabid and killed the others.”
“I said sixteen dead, none by suicide. No clues to the culprit, but I have sneaky suspicion I know who.”
It hit Yuri before she could even say it. “Patient Thirty-nine.” Part man. Part bat. All monster. He’d glimpsed it as it swept Levy off his feet and murdered him. Later he heard from the others of the last time they encountered the Man-bat which also involved tearing someone to pieces.
“Bingo. Seems like it wasn’t content avenging itself with Levy. It might be going after everyone involved in the Project, victims included.”
“Meaning none of you are safe.”
“Neither are you.”
“Why me? I was already a bear and barely in their custody,” he exclaimed.
“If this thing is hunting by scent, then guess what?”
It might come after Yuri, too. Let it. A bear against a bat? He liked the odds. He also liked the opening it gave him to say, “I guess we should start sharing a room, you know, for safety.”
Takhi snorted. “In your dreams, Fozzie.”
Yes, she did play a huge role in his dreams. His fantasies… Now, if only she didn’t treat him with such disdain when awake.