by Lizzy Bequin
The doctors are panicked, their hands fumbling with equipment and cables as they hook the professor up to the device, and he curses at them for their frightened clumsiness. Meanwhile, that nightmarish needle is still protruding toward my abdomen.
I can’t let this happen. I have to protect the life that’s inside me. I have to protect my child.
My child and Conway’s.
Somewhere outside of this room there comes the muffled sound of automatic gunfire, and though it’s hard to tell over the blaring alarm, it sounds like there are screams too. Then there are several heavy thumps.
The professor shouts from his chair as the frantic doctors finish hooking him up.
“Whatever you do, make sure that laboratory door remains—“
His voice is cut short by the screech of rending, twisting metal. Upstairs, a panel of the glass separating the main lab from the control booth bursts into a spiderweb of cracks as a security guard’s body flies into it. A moment later, it shatters completely as another, much larger form crashes through, landing on the upper balcony in a waterfall of cascading glass.
It only takes a moment for the scent to reach me, sending an electric thrill rippling through my body.
“Conway!” I cry.
CHAPTER 26: CONWAY
Hearing Amrita’s sweet voice calling out for me ignites a spark of joy in my heart.
She’s alive! My little mate is alive!
But my good mood reverts to being pissed off when I look down from the balcony at the pit where they’ve got her trapped. I was already pissed off when I tore down the door and ripped through the outer control room. But when I see the way that they have her stripped naked and strapped into some kind of crazy obstetrician’s chair, red hot fire courses through my veins and I let out a bellow of animal rage that makes the blaring alarm seem quiet by comparison.
Below, the lab is a swirling pandemonium of doctors and technicians running around like headless chickens as the shattered glass of the window rains down on them. There’s one dead body down there already, and a quick glance reveals it to be the big man himself, Damon Driscoll. One thing’s for sure—he ain’t gonna be the only person dying today.
There’s a big brute in a suit who is throwing off his black jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. A quick sniff tells me he’s an Alpha. I don’t recognize him.
I also don’t recognize the figure cowering at his side, his body bristling with strange cables and plastic tubing. And believe me, if I had seen this fucker before, I would remember. He’s got a face like a melted candle, and his twisted body looks like it’s been through a trash compactor. Oh yeah, and he’s got an arm made of metal. I make a mental note to rip it off and shove it up his scrawny ass.
But first things first. I need to make my mate safe.
And right now she most definitely is not safe. She’s got a long, evil-looking needle pointed straight at her belly. I’m not sure exactly what the crazy, blinking contraption in the middle of the floor is supposed to do, but I have an idea that there’s something in my mate’s belly that they want to extract.
I’m not going to allow myself to consider the implications of that. I can wait for answers. Right now, the most important thing is getting that needle away from the woman I love.
I swing my legs over the railing and send the full force of my body flying at an angle toward the lower level of the lab. My heel connects with the jointed, robotic mechanism that holds the long needle. It swings away, the sharp tip stabbing into a random doctor who is running by.
“Amrita,” I gasp, standing over my naked lover. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
She seems to be mostly unharmed. There are no cuts or bruises on her skin, except around her wrists and calves where heavy bands almost like seatbelt straps are holding her tightly in place. But something seems different about her. She’s straining against her restraints with such force that her arms and thighs are corded with thick muscle and veins are popping out.
She’s angry as hell, and I don’t blame her.
Extracting the razor sharp claw of my index finger, I swiftly cut the straps on her left arm and left leg.
“Look out,” Amrita shouts.
I duck just in time to feel a heavy whoosh of air as a clawed arm swings through the space where my head just was, The Alpha is attacking. Before I can turn, his follow-up strike hits me in the side. His pointed claws stab into me with a hot sting, but my tough hide keeps them from penetrating too deep.
“Motherfucker,” I growl.
There’s a hard crack as I swing my elbow backward, connecting with his chin. The force is enough to knock him back a couple of paces, his dark shades clattering to the floor and his eyes rolling with disorientation. I whirl around and deck him again, sending him stumbling across the lab, his massive body crashing into the expensive machinery and scattering trays of medical equipment.
From somewhere else in the building, I hear the distant muffled sound of another explosion. Good. That means Reese is still alive. He’s out there wreaking his own brand of havoc. He’s using the explosives to draw security away from the lab so I can rescue Amrita. I just hope he can hold his own against them.
Either way, I’m not going to let his efforts go to waste. We came here to rescue his daughter, and that’s what I intend to do.
With the other Alpha temporarily incapacitated, I turn back to Amrita to free her from her bonds. But I discover that my girl is doing just fine on her own. She has grabbed a fallen scalpel from the floor, and she has already used it to slit the band holding her right arm. A moment later she has cut the strap on her right leg too, freeing herself completely.
But what she does next is totally unexpected.
With a banshee shriek, she springs out of her chair, her naked body flying through the air, headed straight for Mr. Waxface in the wheelchair. His one living eye is wide with fear, and the black, lipless hole of his mouth is open wide to scream although nothing is coming out.
“I told you I was going to kill you, Professor.” Amrita’s voice is feral.
Wait, did she say “Professor”? Is that the same man that Reese told us about before? His former boss when he worked at the Facility? Damn.
“Wait, my child,” the man blubbers. “Surely you wouldn’t kill your own—“
Before he can finish, Amrita, grips his hairless skull with both hands and roughly twists. There is a dull crack as his neck breaks. The bionic arm flails briefly and then becomes still as the rest of his body goes limp.
Amrita steps back. Her shoulders sag as she heaves a heavy sigh.
She killed him. Maybe it’s a bit fucked up, but I’m proud of her. While it doesn’t diminish my drive to protect her at all costs, I like knowing that my ferocious little mate can handle herself in a pinch.
But I don’t have long to bask in my pride for Amrita. The other Alpha is back on his feet, and he’s drawn a heavy .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistol from his shoulder holster to aim it at the feral, naked young woman who just killed his employer.
With a roar, I throw myself across the circular space of the lab, spreading out my body as wide as possible to shield Amrita.
The Alpha unloads, and the high-caliber rounds tear into me, sending shock waves of agony through my shoulders, chest and abdomen. But thankfully none of the bullets penetrate all the way through my body.
My momentum sends my body crashing against the curved wall of the lab, but I immediately shove off, throwing my weight in the direction of the Alpha. With a sweep of my arm, I knock the pistol up as he fires again, and the shot blows out one of the overhead lights, showering us with hot sparks.
With one hand holding his gun wrist and the other clenched on his throat, I grapple with him as we growl and roar like a couple of grizzly bears. He gets the better angle on me, bending me back across the chunky device in the middle of the lab. He’s got the advantage from this position, but all of a sudden, I’ve got help.
Amrita leaps
on his back, snarling like a wolf. She sinks her teeth into his ear, and the Alpha howls in pain.
He leans back as if to slam Amrita backward into the wall, but I’m not having that. I clutch the collar of his shirt and pull him toward me, simultaneously driving my forehead forward into his nose. His grip on the gun loosens and it clanks to the ground.
I headbutt him again and again, but the bastard just won’t go down. His head might as well be carved out of granite. He just grins and squeezes his claws around my throat. His mouth opens wide, ready to take a big bite out of my face.
But he doesn’t get the chance.
During the scuffle, Amrita dropped from his back and picked up the Desert Eagle. The massive pistol looks almost comical in her tiny hands. Almost. But it’s clear she’s not fucking around. The Alpha shifts his eyes to the side as she presses the muzzle to his temple.
“I know your skull can’t be that thick,” she snarls.
The recoil is so strong that the massive pistol nearly flies out of Amrita’s hands. The flash of the muzzle singes the hair on the Alpha’s temple, and empties his brainpan out the other side in a pink mist that stains the wall. The few remaining doctor’s scream in shock. For a few seconds. the Alpha is dead on his feet, then his burly frame slumps to the floor.
I release a heavy sigh of relief.
The lab is almost empty now. The only ones left are me, Amrita, and a few doctors cowering by the wall, shivering in shock, too afraid to move.
I throw my arms around her in a big hug and kiss her head, breathing in the lush scent of her hair.
“You came for me,” she says
Her voice is nearly drowned out by the still-ringing alarm, and her body seems to have calmed from it’s agitated state. She’s not in feral mode anymore. I’m still kind of curious what caused that. Apparently I’ve still got a lot to learn about my little Omega.
“Of course, I came back,” I whisper into her ear. “You’re my mate.”
“Amrita!” a voice shouts above us. “Conway!”
It’s Reese. He survived, and now he’s circled back around to the lab. He runs down the stairs, his feet clanking on the metal steps. He aims his pistol at the doctors huddled by the wall until he realizes they pose no threat, then he strides to his daughter.
“Amrita, you’re alive,” he says with tears of joy in his eyes as he hugs her. “Oh baby, I thought we’d lost you.”
As beautiful as the moment is, we don’t have time to stand around being lovey-dovey. We need to get the hell out of here and fast.
I glance around the lab, noting that there are no security cameras inside this space. I guess they didn’t want any permanent record of the goings on here. But that’s good. We can use that to our advantage.
I kneel beside the dead Alpha and start unbuttoning his shirt.
“I heard the explosions, Reese. Good work. How much time would you say we’ve got left?”
“Not much,” he says. “I distracted them and even took out a few guards, but I’m sure they’ll be sending in the cavalry soon. We’ve got to hurry.”
He glances at the broken body slumped in the mechanical wheelchair, and gasps.
“Is that…the professor?” he asks. “But how? I saw him die years ago.”
“Yeah, well, I saw him die five minutes ago,” I say and tip my head toward Amrita. Reese’s eyes widen with the realization as he continues to hold his daughter.
I strip the white shirt—slightly bloodstained around the collar—off of the dead Alpha’s heavy body.
“What are you doing?” Amrita asks as she tries to cover her naked breasts.
“Just trust me,” I say with a grin. I gesture to the scared doctors still standing with their backs pressed to the wall in fear, and snarl at them “Give us your lab coats.”
The doctors shudder at the sound of my voice and immediately obey, handing over their white coats.
Amrita slips into a long white lab coat, When she buttons it up, you can’t even tell she’s naked underneath. She takes a pair of the doctors’ shoes too, and Reese does likewise. Meanwhile, I put on the Alpha’s shirt and sport coat. I find his shades on the floor and pop those on as well.
“You think this will work?” Amrita asks nervously as we run up the stairs to the second level, leaving the terrified doctors still cowering and huddled together in fear.
“Ask your dad,” I tell her. “He’s the movie buff.”
As we march down the hall to the elevator—me in front and Amrita and Reese following on my heels—a cadre of security guards round the corner and raise their guns.
“Halt,” the point man shouts.
“Don’t point that weapon at me, you idiot,” I shout, trying to sound as commanding as possible. “Can’t you see that I’m escorting these doctors to safety?”
“S-sorry,” the leader stammers, realizing I’m an Alpha. “Stand down, he says to his men.”
We don’t stop to give them a chance and get a good look at us, We just march by like it’s the natural thing to do.
“The intruders are dead,” I tell the leader as we pass him. “The bodies are back there in the lab. The whole place is a mess. You need to get back there ASAP.”
“Yes sir,” he barks, and signals for his men to follow him.
Once we take the elevator down, we leave by a side exit, and hightail it for the 4Runner where I left it parked. There are still no signs of police or paramedics at the Omicron center, and I suspect the company didn’t even call it in. They want to keep their business hush-hush, and that’s fine with me. I got what I came for. Now it’s time to put some distance between us and the city.
But there’s one thing I’ve been dying to do.
I wrap my arms around Amrita again, squeezing her tight. Weaving my fingers through her thick, blond hair, I pull her face to mine and claim her mouth in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever known.
I’m probably embarrassing her in front of her dad, but I just can’t help myself.
At last I break our kiss and look into her beautiful lavender eyes as she gazes up at me, the slight breeze playing with her hair.
“You were amazing back there,” I tell her. “I always knew you were a little badass, but that was something else.”
“I had to do something,” she says. “They were going to take our baby.”
“Baby?” Reese and I both say at the same time.
“Yeah…” Amrita blushes so deeply that I can see it even in the shadows. “I’m…pregnant.”
Reese and I are both left with our mouths hanging open, and I can tell that he has as many questions as I do, but we both know that now isn’t the time or the place.
“We’ll talk on the road,” I say with a smile as I help Amrita into the passenger seat, and Reese climbs in the back. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“Where are we going?” Amrita asks.
“Anywhere but here.”
EPILOGUE: AMRITA
one year later, New Brunswick, Canada
“How do you do that?” I ask in amazement.
With the sleeves on his plaid shirt rolled up, Dad is pacing across the grass of the back yard, crossing back and forth in the shade of our little two-story farmhouse with its white wooden siding and dark green trim. He is cradling the world’s fussiest baby in his arms, lightly bouncing him and making light cooing sounds. Just a minute ago, little Brandon was crying so loud that I’m sure that people could hear him on the other side of the island. But now, with Dad’s magic touch, the baby has not only stopped crying, but he has closed his little eyes, and his chubby face has become serene as he starts to fall asleep, despite the wind and the racket that the seagulls are making overhead.
“Look at that,” my dad whispers. “Such a little angel.”
I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder and look down at my son sleeping in his arms. His adorable, angelic appearance belies what a little devil he is. Besides having a cry that can rattle the window panes, at three months old he has already s
tarted to crawl, which means he can get into all kinds of trouble. He’s a holy terror, just like his father, and I love him more than anything in the world.
“But seriously, Dad,” I ask as I leave the shade and step out into the sunlight where the laundry is hanging on the line, blowing and billowing in the wind. “How do you do that?”
Despite his fussy ways, little Brandon always gets quiet for his grandfather. I don’t know what it is. Maybe he can just sense how safe he is in those protective arms.
“I’ve just got the magic touch,” my dad whispers, and then he tosses me a playful wink. “Don’t forget, I’ve had a little more practice than you.”
I smile over my shoulder, enjoying the sight of my beautiful little baby sleeping in his grandfather’s arms. Then I set about taking the laundry down from the line, folding it, and placing it into the big wicker basket. I work slowly, my eyes constantly distracted by the breathtaking surroundings.
The crisp white of our farmhouse stands out against the dark green backdrop of the swaying spruce and larch forest that walls our property on one side. Looking the other way, the bright grass, very much in need of mowing, ripples in the wind like water. The land slopes gently down toward the slightly weather-beaten white farmhouse with its black gambrel roof, set among the rolling meadows that comprise our farm. Cattle and goats graze lazily in the meadow. In the farther distance, the land rises and falls in gentle waves, the meadows of other farms, all separated by narrow lines of pine and birch. Beyond all of that, extending over the top of the farthest hill, the twin steeples of the church peek at me, and I can make out the bright colors of the seaside village houses and the sparkling blue strip of the bay.
The sun is warm on this summer day, but the wash of the wind cools my skin as I fold the laundry, and every now and then I stop to inhale the rich smells of the grass and the fragrant deciduous trees.
I feel free here. Freer than I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I love my life here with my three favorite men—my dad, my tiny little son, and of course, my mate.