Chapter 2: Plague

Chapter

Two

PLAGUE

Moments Earlier

T he stench of antiseptic and infection scorches my eyes and nose as I lead Thane and Whiskey down another endless white corridor. My jaw aches from how tightly I'm clenching my teeth so I don't snap.

Three hours of searching this godforsaken labyrinth, and we're no closer to finding Ivy. But this doctor—this Dr. Slovo—he knows something.

The way he scurried away when he saw us coming...

I check the nameplates on each door we pass. The click and thump of our boots echoes off the sterile walls. Behind me, Whiskey's heavy footfalls betray his restlessness. He's never been stealthy.

"Will you fucking walk lighter?" I hiss over my shoulder. "You're going to bring the whole facility down on us."

"Kiss my ass," Whiskey growls back.

"Both of you shut up," Thane cuts in.

At least he understands the need for silence.

There. Dr. Slovo's office. I pause outside the frosted glass door, studying the shadows moving behind it.

One figure, seated at a desk.

Perfect.

I smooth my stolen lab coat and adjust the lanyard around my neck, flipping over the ID card so it's not immediately obvious it's a temporary ID. Not that it matters. My confidence has gotten us this far.

And so has the cockiness of these fucks.

"Remember," I murmur to my companions. "Let me do the talking. You're just muscle."

Whiskey snorts. "Ain't that hard to pretend."

I ignore him and knock on the door.

A muffled voice reaches us. "Come in."

Dr. Slovo barely glances up as we enter, his attention fixed on the papers spread across his desk. Mostly photos of nude 'patients' staring vacantly into space.

I take in every detail of the room. Filing cabinets along the wall. Computer terminal. Window overlooking the snow-covered courtyard. A potential escape route if needed. And the only camera I can see has a square of black tape over it.

So he likes to have privacy while he jerks off in here.

Good. I can use that.

"Doctor," I say, keeping my voice smooth and professional. The Vrissian accent flows easily now. "I believe you have information about one of our recent acquisitions."

He looks up then, watery blue eyes narrowing behind wire-rimmed glasses. "Do I know you?"

"You should." I step closer to his desk, letting him see the authority in my stance. "Command sent me specifically to review the omega's case."

His fingers twitch toward the phone on his desk. I shift slightly, blocking his reach. Behind me, I hear Whiskey's knuckles pop.

"I don't recall being notified—" Slovo starts.

"Perhaps this will refresh your memory." I pull a folded paper from my coat pocket. An official-looking letterhead stolen from another office. I flash it at him and tuck it way before he has time to read it. "Now, about the omega..."

The doctor's eyes dart between the paper and my face. I can see the wheels turning in his head. Calculating his odds. Weighing his options.

I lean forward over his desk, placing my palms flat on the polished wood. The lanyard around my neck shifts with the movement.

"Did you do something to her, Dr. Slovo?"

His eyes pinch. "Designation 2749 received standard treatment protocols for?—"

"That isn't what I'm asking, Doctor." My voice stays quiet, controlled.

Behind me, Thane shifts his weight, a subtle warning.

"Designation 2749?—"

"Tell me where she is." Each word drops like ice.

The fucker's lips twist into a smirk. "You seem rather invested in this particular omega, Doctor...?"

"Romanov." The false name tastes bitter. "I'm reviewing her case file before transfer, and I've heard rumors of mistreatment. Command takes that very seriously. Omegas are precious, you know."

Precious seems like such an understatement for Ivy.

Almost insulting.

More like the center of my entire fucking universe.

"Even a feral omega who maimed a senior guard?" He shuffles through papers on his desk with deliberate slowness. "I must say, your own guards seem unusually interested as well. Perhaps they would like to lose their own fingers?"

My fingers curl against the wood. In my peripheral vision, Whiskey's hand twitches toward where his weapons would normally be. The stolen security uniform fits him poorly, the stitching on his sleeves straining at his muscled shoulders and his assault vest snug around his padded midsection. It's already clear he isn't some lanky untrained kid like most of the guards here.

And he looks like he's about to open his damn mouth.

I can't afford to glare at him right now. Not with this shitbag doctor staring at me. All I can do is hope he can somehow read my fucking mind, or at least figure out the tension in my body is at least partially directed toward him.

"Standard procedure," I say. "Now, about her treatment?—"

"You know what I find fascinating?" the doctor interrupts, leaning back in his chair. "How much you three smell like gunpowder rather than antiseptic."

The room goes still.

"Fuck this." The blade slides from my sleeve into my palm. One fluid motion and it's buried in his throat before he can shout. Blood sprays across the papers, across my borrowed white coat.

"Seriously?" Thane growls. "I'm usually the one who snaps."

I yank the blade free. "Being around two barbarians must be rubbing off on me," I say, smearing the bloodied blade off on the now deceased doctor's lab coat before slipping it back into its home against my wrist.

"The hell you calling barbarian?" Whiskey snarls, gesturing angrily at me. He's been pissy ever since I rightfully scolded him for knocking everything over like a bull in a china shop. "You're the one who just?—"

"Enough." I round on him. "We don't have time for your wounded pride. He made us. We need to move."

"You didn't even try to get more intel first! Just went straight for?—"

A tremor cuts him off.

Books rattle on the shelves.

A pen rolls off the desk.

"We need to go." Thane's voice carries the edge of command. "Now."

The second tremor hits harder. Cracks spider through the ceiling tiles. I strip off the blood-spattered coat as we run for the door.

The hallway beyond tilts and buckles. Emergency lights flash red, casting strange shadows as we sprint past rows of closed doors. The walls groan. Somewhere distant, metal screams.

"This way!" I shout over the growing chaos. The floor plan I memorized guides us toward the secure wing. Toward Ivy.

"She wasn't fucking there!" Whiskey bellows at me.

"She might be now!" I snap back, panic taking hold, adrenaline flooding my veins. He's right, she wasn't there when we last checked. But that's the only place I know where to start looking.

From there, maybe we can catch her scent.

From there, maybe?—

A section of ceiling crashes down in front of us. Whiskey's huge arm wraps around my waist as he flings me out of the way, slamming me into the wall with his palm splayed across my chest.

Live wires snap through the air where my head was a second ago, spitting blue-white sparks as they dance and writhe. The sour stench of ozone burns my nose.

"Get off me." I shove against Whiskey's massive palm, still crushing me to the wall. His bulk towers over me, blocking my view of the corridor. More ceiling panels crash down, raining dust and debris.

"You're welcome," he growls, finally stepping back.

"I didn't need your fucking help!" I snap.

"Both of you shut the fuck up." Thane's voice cuts through our bickering. He gestures down the corridor where red emergency lights paint everything in crimson hellfire. "We need to move. Now."

The floor bucks beneath us again. I brace against the wall, my fingers finding purchase in a crack that wasn't there seconds ago. The whole building groans like a dying beast.

An earth-shattering roar rips through the building, followed by the rapid staccato of gunfire. The sound echoes up from somewhere below us, vibrating through the ruined floor and into my bones.

Thane's head snaps up. "Wraith."

"Great. The last fucking thing we need is your psycho brother on a rampage." Whiskey shoves a chunk of fallen ceiling tile out of our path and storms after Thane.

I follow, gritting my teeth.

This is bad.

"He's not a fucking psycho," Thane snarls, but there's worry etched in the lines around his eyes. "He's?—"

Another roar drowns out his words like a devil's bellows echoing up from the bowels of hell. The walls shake harder, and I catch the distinct sound of metal being torn apart.

"He's tearing the building apart from the inside out." I press my palm against the wall, feeling the vibrations intensify. "We need to get to Ivy before the whole damn place caves in on itself."

Thane growls. "If he's in the basement, the structural integrity will be compromised."

"Drop the fancy words and move!" Whiskey barks, charging ahead.

Now we're the ones following him. But there's no time to bitch about it. The secure wing where they were keeping Ivy looms ahead, all reinforced steel and bulletproof glass. My heart slams against my ribs as we sprint toward it.

The door to her cell hangs open.

Empty.

" FUCK !" I slam my fist into the doorframe. "No! Fucking no !"

I run in anyway, desperate. Grab the thin mattress with her scent all over it, drink it in, memorize her scent as if it isn't already branded on every cell in my body, tear into the filthy stained fabric with a snarl just in case she might somehow be hiding inside, knowing she can't be, knowing?—

"I fucking told you!" Whiskey's fist connects with my jaw, sending me staggering back into the cell. "You never fucking listen!"

Blood fills my mouth. I spit it onto the concrete floor, my vision tunneling to red. "You want to do this now? Here?"

He advances into the tiny cell, filling the doorway with his bulk. "Yeah. Here. Now. I'm gonna kick your fucking ass and then you're gonna listen to me for a change."

My knuckles crack against his nose. The satisfying crunch of cartilage gives way to hot blood spraying across my hand. He roars, charging forward like an enraged bull.

We crash into the far wall. The impact drives the air from my lungs, but I bring my knee up into his gut. He grunts, doubling over. I slam my elbow into the back of his neck.

"Stop it!" Thane's voice cracks like a whip. "Both of you!"

Whiskey ignores him, wrapping his arms around my waist and driving me to the ground. My head cracks against the concrete. Stars explode behind my eyes.

"You arrogant fuck!" His massive hands wrap around my throat as he straddles me, pinning me to the floor beneath his weight. "Always think you know better than everyone else?—"

I drive my thumbs into his eyes.

He rears back with a howl of pain. I roll, reversing our positions, straddling his chest. My fists rain down on his face.

"I—had—to— try !" Each word punctuated by another blow. "I had to?—"

Thane's hand locks around my throat, yanking me off Whiskey. He slams me into the wall hard enough to rattle my teeth.

"Enough!" he roars in my face. "You're both compromising the mission!"

"What mission?" I snarl, clawing at his grip. "She's not even here!"

"The mission to find her, you idiot!" He gives me a hard shake that makes my head snap back against the wall. "Which we can't do if you two kill each other first!"

Another tremor rocks the building. Dust rains down from new cracks in the ceiling. Somewhere below, Wraith roars again, followed by the sound of concrete being pulverized.

" Let. Me. Go ." Each word drips with venom.

"Are you done?" Thane's eyes bore into mine.

My lip curls. "Yes."

He releases me. I slump against the wall, rubbing my throat. Across the cell, Whiskey pushes himself to his feet, blood streaming from his nose.

"You fucks always go for my goddamned nose!" he hisses.

"You're both right," Thane says, ignoring him. "We need to find her. But fighting each other won't help. And Whiskey, save the 'I told you so' bullshit for after we get our omega out alive."

"Fine." Whiskey spits blood in my direction with a sneer. As if contamination is my kryptonite. As if I haven't had his fucking come all over my hands. "But I'm not following his lead anymore. He's too emotional about this."

"Emotional?" I lunge forward, but Thane's arm blocks my path. "You want to see emotional?"

"Both of you shut the fuck up and focus!" Thane's voice carries the full weight of command. "Listen?—"

"You know what I love?"

My blood runs cold.

The silky Vrissian accent slides through the chaos like a blade between ribs. We all stare as Valek emerges from the shadows at the end of the hall, his bone-white hair catching the crimson emergency lights. Blood drips from his gray 'patient' uniform, fresh enough to still be running.

"How nothing changes," Valek purrs. "Not even the end of the world could stop your little... squabbles."

"You backstabbing piece of shit!" I stalk up to him with murderous intent. "Where is she?"

"Such hostility." He tilts his head, silver eyes glinting. "And here I thought we were all brothers in arms."

"Brothers don't kidnap each other's mates," Whiskey growls, joining me.

Valek's lips curve into a cruel smile. "I did not kidnap her. She made a choice." He runs his tongue over his teeth. "Not the correct choice, so I took her with me and gave her another chance. Is that so wrong?"

"Nah. We don't have time for your bullshit games." Whiskey's fist crashes into Valek's face.

Blood sprays from Valek's split lip. He laughs wildly, dodging Whiskey's next swing. "You want to dance, big boy? Let's dance."

A scalpel appears in his hand like magic. Whiskey barely jerks back in time as the blade slices through the air where his throat just was. Valek pivots, fluid as water, the blade a silver arc in the flashing red lights.

I slam into him from behind, driving my knee into the back of his leg. He buckles but rolls with the momentum, coming up in a crouch. The knife flashes again, opening a line of fire across my ribs.

"Three against one?" His tongue darts out to taste the blood on his lip. "Not very sporting."

"Fuck sporting." Thane's boot connects with Valek's chest, sending him crashing into the wall. "Where the fuck is she?"

Valek dances back from Thane's next strike, but stumbles into Whiskey's massive arms. The bigger alpha locks him in a bear hug from behind, crushing Valek's arms to his sides. Blood from Whiskey's broken nose drips onto Valek's shoulder.

"Not so graceful now, are you?" I circle around to face him, flexing my fingers.

Valek's eyes glitter with manic glee. "Hurt me. Please."

My fist crashes into Valek's ribs, the impact sending shockwaves up my arm. He laughs through bloody teeth, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face even as Whiskey starts squeezing the life out of him.

Hope his eyes pop out of his fucking head.

"Where is she?" Another blow. His head snaps back against Whiskey's chest.

"Getting tired yet, Doctor?" Valek taunts, his accent thicker than usual even as his head lolls. Blood drips steadily from his split lip onto his gray uniform. "Or should I say... brother?"

I slam my knee into his gut, silencing him. But only for a moment. He wheezes out another laugh, silver eyes glinting with a manic light that sets my teeth on edge.

"You want to know where your precious omega is?" he slurs, head lolling to one side. "She's carving her name into my cock right now. Making art of my flesh..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Whiskey growls, his brow knitting in confusion. He tightens his grip until Valek's bones creak.

But I notice something off in Valek's gaze. A glassy sheen, pupils blown wide. The way his words slur together. Signs I recognize from years of medical training.

"He's hallucinating," I say, stepping back to study him properly. "Whatever they gave him in the lab, it's fucking with his head."

"Good," Thane spits. "Maybe it'll loosen his tongue." He grabs Valek's jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Where is she?"

Valek's head rolls back against Whiskey's chest, a dreamy smile spreading across his bloodied face. "She's so beautiful when she cuts... Such delicate hands... Such precise strokes..."

Whiskey's arms tighten around Valek, muscles straining as he holds him in place. Blood still drips from Whiskey's broken nose, staining Valek's gray uniform darker. The sight stirs something ridiculous in me. An urge to tend to his injury that I quickly squash.

Now isn't the time for that particular weakness.

"He's not going to tell us anything useful like this," I say, studying Valek's dilated pupils. His silver eyes are unfocused, rolling in their sockets as he mumbles something about Ivy and scalpels. "Whatever they gave him, it's strong. Could take hours for it to wear off."

"We don't have hours," Thane growls.

He's right.

Another explosion rocks the facility. Chunks of ceiling rain down around us, and the walls groan ominously. Somewhere below, Wraith roars again, the sound echoing through the building's dying infrastructure. It sounds like he's further away now. Deeper underground.

"Keep him alive for now," I say. "We need to know why he took Ivy. But if we have to dump him somewhere, we dump him."

"Preferably face-first into a fuckin' barrel of shit," Whiskey growls.

Thane's face hardens. "Agreed."

I step forward, glancing over the exposed length of Valek's neck as Whiskey holds him in place. The carotid artery pulses visibly beneath his pale skin. One precise strike to the right spot...

"Sweet dreams," I mutter. My fingers find the pressure point with surgical precision, delivering a sharp blow.

Valek's eyes roll back. His body goes limp in Whiskey's arms, that manic grin finally falling from his bloodied face.

"Could've just given him one of your shots," Whiskey grunts, hefting Valek's unconscious form over his broad shoulder. The psycho's limp arms and legs sway like a fresh corpse as Whiskey takes the stairs deeper into the facility.

"And 'one of my shots' could interact with whatever's in his system, delaying our answers," I reply in a sharp tone, following him. As if he knows a damn thing about medicine beyond what to avoid mixing with his drinks if he wants to stay awake.

My gaze sweeps each cell as we pass, scanning for any signs of life. The doors hang open, their locking mechanisms dead. No power means no containment. The silence unnerves me more than screams would. At least screams mean someone's still alive.

A flash of mangled metal catches my eye. I glance toward the cell where that iron-masked monstrosity had been chained. The walls are torn to shreds, massive gashes carved deep into reinforced steel like it was paper. The chains were ripped straight out of the damn wall.

Something that powerful loose in the facility changes our tactical situation significantly. The sheer force needed to tear through these reinforced containment walls...

Yet another tremor rocks the building as I follow Whiskey into the stairwell. I brace against the wall, counting the seconds until it passes.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

The intervals between quakes are getting shorter.

This place won't hold much longer.

As we move, my fingers tap against my thigh in a pattern I haven't thought about in years. Nine beads, pause. Nine beads, pause. The rhythm of rosary prayers I learned at my mother's knee, back when I still believed in anything but science and violence.

Please let Wraith have her. Let that feral beast who terrifies even me have somehow gotten to her first.

The irony isn't lost on me. All this time, I've feared what Wraith might do to Ivy in one of his rages. Now I'm praying she's safe in his arms even as he disembowels this fucking place from the inside out.

Nine beads, pause.

Nine beads, pause.

An old habit resurfacing in crisis.

How disturbing.

I thought I was beyond this.