Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Abel limped along the side of a building, a few blocks downwind from the gallery. It wasn't a foolproof move to keep the operatives from tailing him, but it was what he could manage at the moment, considering the state he was in.

He held his chest as pain radiated throughout him, his hand coated in blood that wasn't his own. He still wasn't entirely sure what had struck him through the wall when he'd been in the warehouse. His hair had stood on end and a strange sensation of building static had started a second before it had felt as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to him.

A large number of rounds had gone through the relatively thin walls in the gallery. Had they hit something that ultimately resulted in a short in the wiring? One that maybe caused an overload in some manner?

There was no rational explanation for what he'd endured. Unless Wheeler had abilities that weren't noted in his charts. Could that be?

If so, why hadn't Abel developed them?

The smell of burnt flesh consumed his senses. It was like a cross between rotting meat and a cookout where the burgers on the grill had been left unattended far too long. His overly heightened supernatural senses magnified the gut-churning smell, making it difficult for him to both concentrate on the task at hand and keep from vomiting.

He knew he was the source of the stench. That whatever had happened to him within the art gallery had given him electrical burns. What he didn't know was how that had come to be.

The mission had been cut-and-dried. The X-factor variables had been considered and compensated for by those in The Corporation whose job it was to oversee such things. They'd interceded the second word reached them that Wheeler's status as a PSI Shadow Agent had been initiated. The ink hadn't even been dry on the paperwork when The Corporation had launched into action.

They'd put their best hackers on the case and as soon as it became clear what Wheeler's friends were trying to do—get him moved safely to one of the labs operated by PSI—The Corporation had stepped in. They'd fuddled with the system, making it look as though hiring a private-sector service would be the quickest and easiest way to get Wheeler moved. They'd covered their tracks as well, making sure no one would ever know they'd been in the computer systems of PSI once again, or that they had men on the inside, feeding them information.

In the past few months, PSI and its affiliates had begun closing ranks. Tightening their circles of trust and locking down access to records even more than normal. Not that normal was anything lax to begin with.

Abel knew how secret organizations worked, and PSI was one of the best-kept ones. Only a select few humans knew of its existence, yet it had been around in some form or another for centuries. It operated in plain sight of the public but under various guises that kept anyone from being suspicious or realizing what it truly was—a way to police supernaturals and keep humans safe.

In most ways, it was like The Corporation, with its hands in everything, but their end goals were vastly different. That put them at odds.

Abel was fine with that and knew he was on the side that would ultimately prevail. After all, they weren't full of bleeding hearts who would sacrifice all to protect those they loved.

Hell, most of The Corporation didn't even understand the word love.

They just wanted to win.

And they would.

That was why Abel was still struggling to pull his thoughts around what had gone so wrong with the mission. The orders had been simple: extract the target at the designated location, making sure the human female was present.

Everything had been going according to plan until Wheeler had somehow broken the magik locking him in stone form. Abel's superiors had made it sound as if that wasn't a possibility, yet he'd witnessed it happen firsthand. He'd seen the way the former Outcast had returned to form instantaneously, with no ill effects of having been stone only seconds prior.

Whenever Abel suffered through a partial change into his hybrid form, he had to deal with the aftereffects for days, sometimes weeks. It left him physically drained. Not that he'd have ever let on to as much with his team. Showing a weakness among killers wasn't wise.

None of that mattered now.

His team members were all dead.

They were weak. Like his father had been. They'd deserved what they'd gotten. Plus, they weren't his first team, and they wouldn't be his last. He'd take over another team, work on their training, and more than likely watch them die at some point as well. That was the way of it.

They were sacrificial lambs The Corporation was willing to lose.

Besides, there were plenty of warm bodies to fill their spots. Recruitment for The Corporation was ongoing in addition to them already having thousands upon thousands of people working for and with them. An endless pool of people to draw from.

To that end, Abel knew he, himself, was replaceable in their eyes. It was why he worked as hard as he did to prove to his higher-ups that he was worthy of the attention and resources they continued to allot in the hunt for a solution to his issues.

Beyond simply healing Abel, The Corporation had a vested interest in studying Wheeler and fixing Abel. He knew as much. Knew that if they could fix him, they'd be able to work out the kinks in their other hybrids—some of which had endured horrible consequences when the splicing and manipulation of their DNA began. Once they had everything sorted, they'd be unstoppable.

That was why getting their hands on Wheeler had been vital. Though Abel wasn't sure what The Corporation would have learned from the man while he was locked in the form of stone.

As he thought harder on it, rubbing his injured chest in the process, the notion that they wouldn't have gotten much from him that way hit him hard.

"They knew he'd change back," he muttered, anger building quickly within him.

That meant they'd sent him in under false pretenses, withholding vital information from him. That decision was what had caused the mission to go sideways.

Had Abel known Wheeler wouldn't remain locked in stone form, he'd have come up with a different plan to extract him. He wouldn't have been taken off guard.

As it stood, one moment Wheeler had been hard as a fucking rock, and the next the human female was bumping into him. Then just like that, Wheeler was a man once more.

Abel's brows drew together as pain continued to assail him.

The bitch had touched the statue more than once before Wheeler had basically come back to life, yet nothing had happened.

But the last time she'd bled heavily on it. Had that been a factor? Did blood break the magik? Or was it something more?

Wheeler had been vicious in his attack on Abel's team, barely giving the men a second to react. It wasn't as if his men had been newbies. No. They'd had training. The Corporation had seen to that, and each was a supernatural in their own right.

On paper, their combination of mixed species should have given them the upper hand. Not left them at the mercy of one fucking operative.

Yet that had been the case.

He'd cut them down, almost as if there was something far more dire at stake than simply his life and freedom.

The woman.

Bringing his left hand to his face, he stared at the drying blood there. It was hers, from a puddle of blood she'd left behind and that he'd fallen into after being electrocuted.

Could it be that simple?

Was there something about the woman that had driven Wheeler to respond the way he had?

Abel brought his bloody fingers to his mouth. His tongue darted out and over them.

His mouth exploded with flavors and his fangs distended fully in response.

Her blood was unlike any he'd had before. So rich. So pure. So delicious. And so clearly not human.

A tugging sensation started in his chest, and he looked down to see some of the electrical burns beginning to heal. The wounds didn't close over fully but they did lessen.

His mind raced with reasons why, and he couldn't help but think about mates. Could it be the woman was Wheeler's?

Since Abel had been cut from the same DNA cloth as Wheeler, did that mean the tiny woman was important to him as well?

He'd find out more about her and call in reinforcements. The Corporation had been laying the groundwork for an uprising in the city for years. It was about time it happened.