49. The Real Fun Begins
FORTY-NINE
THE REAL FUN BEGINS
Seven
T he bouncing of the truck along the rutted forest track was made worse by the fact that I was on the cold floor of the thing and bound hand, foot, and throat in metal. Metal thick enough that even a shift wouldn’t break it. If I tried now, I’d just end up severing my own head, as the ring meant for a human body squeezed and choked a tiger’s neck.
I wondered if that hadn’t been the main reason for their design.
I chuckled darkly as the ride suddenly became smooth, a mechanical whirring coming from outside the vehicle. These chains would have done nothing to contain Two. Her raven form would have slipped through them like water through fingers.
A pang of anticipation jolted through me at the thought of her. Would she escape tonight because of us? Would this crazy, half-baked plan work? Would I finally get to see her again?
The vehicle moved again, and darkness descended. Jack brought the truck to a stop. I blinked towards him. The world beyond the windscreen was black.
Then sudden, blinding lights stabbed my eyes. I squeezed them shut, the brightness painting the backs of my eyelids red. The canvas flap covering the back of the truck was ripped away, and more light flooded in.
I squinted into it, eyes watering, needing to see whatever was coming.
“Get out, half-breed!” a gruff voice snarled. “Don’t make me touch you.”
I blinked at the agent, my Shifter eyes adjusting quickly to the light. He was older than most of the agents I’d seen before, and his mouth was set in a permanent scowl. He took a cursory look around the back of the truck, and I held my breath, heart pounding. Finally, his gaze settled on me, his eyes glinting malevolently.
He hadn’t seen the six others crowded into the truck with me.
Farida’s ‘cloaking’ was working. I allowed myself a tiny exhalation of relieved air.
The driver’s door slammed, and booted feet clomped around to the back of the truck.
“Jesus, McAllister! What the hell happened to you? Oh God, you stink!” the agent grunted, wrinkling his nose at Jack, who glanced down at his filthy uniform.
“Hazard of the job, I guess, when you’re good enough to be sent out for field work,” Jack gloated. My heart swelled at how much he sounded like a petulant, stupid, reckless little shit of an agent. He’d nailed it just from that brief moment in the cabin.
“Interesting how you’re the only one who managed to make it back here, though,” the other agent mused. “Hid in a hollow tree while everyone else was slaughtered by those fucking freaks, I’d bet.” He reached in, grabbing my foot.
I kicked him away, adrenaline spiking through my blood. It wouldn’t be long before I was hauled out and sent away from Jack, away from all of them. And I just had to hope that we could all complete our tasks.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Jack growled, and I stilled. Shit. He was breaking character. His fingers wrapped around my ankle, his thumb surreptitiously caressing the bump of bone there. “This is my prize. I wanna take her to Baxter myself!”
I let out an imperceptible sigh. He’d covered it well.
“Baxter told me to escort her to him!” the agent blustered, puffing his chest out. “Boss’s orders. And you’re to report to the infirmary for a physical.” The older agent gave another disgusted look at Jack’s bloody appearance. “Gotta make sure that precious little hide of yours returned in one piece.”
“I’ll take her to Baxter and then head directly to the infirmary,” Jack argued. I wriggled my foot under his hand, trying to convey that it was okay, that he should do as he was told. That this was the plan all along.
That I really wanted to get in front of Baxter.
He’s going to regret making us by the time we’re done with him , the whisper hissed. My blood heated, the lust for his death … for his pain … beginning to thrum.
Tonight. Finally, tonight, I would get my retribution.
“There is no way Baxter will let you anywhere near him in that state,” the agent griped, wrinkling his nose. “Do as you’ve been ordered, Agent McAllister. Get checked, clean up. I’m sure Baxter will want to personally thank you for your … bravery … once he’s finished with that one.”
Jack’s face morphed into a mask of furious hatred. I sucked in a breath. He looked ready to tear the older agent limb from limb.
Stay in character, I pleaded silently.
Or we could just start our killing spree now , the whisper cajoled.
We won’t get a chance at Baxter if we do that , I retorted.
“Agent … McAllister?”
I froze. Was that … Grace’s voice?
It took Jack a split second longer than it should have to register the name he should be responding to. He took a step back, and I could see properly.
It wasn’t Grace. It was Greta. The likeness was astonishing, but Greta had slightly darker hair and a thinner upper lip than Grace.
“What?” Jack barked, squaring the narrow shoulders of the agent whose form he inhabited. “I’ve got a prisoner to escort to Baxter.”
Greta cleared her throat. “Mercer sent me down to collect you. She needs to run some tests after the … supplement you were given before you went into the field.”
“Perfect timing!” the other agent jeered. “McAllister, you go with Agent Petersen up to the infirmary. And I will take this …” he patted the base of my foot, “to Baxter … just like I was ordered to.”
Jack’s eyes flicked to mine. His mouth was a grim line. Luckily it could be played off as a petulant agent frustrated that his chance to bask in glory was being ruined.
I pressed my foot into his palm.
Go , I urged silently, wishing he could hear me. But very glad that whatever happened to me next, he would be physically safe.
With a tiny squeeze, he released me.
“Lead the way, Agent Petersen,” he huffed.
And I watched the male who was Mine walk away in a body that wasn’t his, disappearing into an elevator.
See you on the other side of this , I thought, as the older agent smirked horridly in my direction, wrapped his meaty fingers around my ankle, and wrenched me out of the truck.
My skin tore on the metal flooring, but I gritted my teeth through the pain as I tumbled out onto the cold concrete.
“Up,” he commanded, kicking me in the side with a steel-capped boot. A rib snapped. I grunted but struggled to my feet, the damned cuffs making everything difficult. He stood back and watched, his smirk burning into my back.
When I was up, I turned to face him, eyeing him with defiance.
“Aww, the little freak still has some fight in her, does she?” he jeered. “Well, hopefully Baxter’ll have someone beat that right out of you.” He chuckled, tapping his lower lip with one fat finger. “Maybe I’ll volunteer. I heard you were in R Block before you escaped. Might see if I can fuck some deference into you.”
“Try it, you piece of shit.” I snarled, rearing back and spitting in his face.
The agent flinched as the gob of saliva hit the corner of his eye. With a disgusted grimace, he flicked it away, his eyes narrowing.
“Dumb fucking move, half-breed,” he scoffed, his hand shooting out, grabbing the chain that connected my collar to the cuffs binding my wrists behind my back and tugging violently.
He jerked me towards him until I was so close that I could smell the rancid stench of his breath. I gagged.
“Walk, bitch,” he hissed, turning me and roughly shoving me ahead of him as he marched me over to the bank of elevators, thrusting me inside one. Just before the doors closed, I chanced a glance back at the truck. It was empty.
The others were loose in Taiga.
And now the real fun begins , the whisper cackled.