Immersive

by Becky Moynihan

  Bren backed up. He charged. Glass shattered as he broke through the wall. A few pieces pelted my skin, but I was too desperate for air to even feel them.

  And then he was there, looming over Lars like a vengeful god. With one swift move, he pried the hands from my neck. And broke them. Lars let out a blood-curdling scream. The sound ended in a wet gurgle as Bren gripped his throat and lifted him off his feet.

  I sagged, struggling to inhale through a bruised throat. By sheer force of will, I stayed conscious.

  “You hurt my mate,” Bren seethed, his voice like gravel.

  Lars managed to wheeze out laughter, saying, “Well . . . she’s soiled now. I had my hands all over her. And . . . I think she liked it when I—”

  Bren exploded into motion with a roar. And that was when I saw them. The fangs. Before he sank them into Lars’s neck.

  It was so violent. So bloody. That I was transfixed.

  With a swift jerk of his head, Bren tore out Lars’s throat.

  Blood sprayed. It glistened darkly on both men’s skin. It dripped. From Bren’s chin.

  When Lars’s body crumpled to the floor, I knew he was dead. His jugular had been ripped open. And not by a saber cat, but by the man I loved.

  He stood over Lars like a mutant beast over its kill. Stars, he was a mutant beast. His very genetic code had forced him to become my childhood nightmare. He was trembling, a man-beast on the verge of losing control, but I was suddenly standing.

  I was approaching him, not running away like any sane person would. I was reaching out, touching his blood-soaked hand. He recoiled like I’d hurt him, backing up a step, then another.

  “Don’t,” he panted, his broad chest heaving. “Don’t touch me. I might hurt you.”

  There was so much pain behind those words that I could scarcely breathe. Still, I pursued him. “You promised to never push me away again, Brendan Bearon.”

  He grimaced, dragging an arm across his mouth. When he saw the blood, fear flickered in his eyes. He stared at Lars’s destroyed body as if seeing it for the very first time. “What have I done?” he croaked. “I didn’t mean to. There was so much rage and I couldn’t control it.”

  “Bren.” I stepped forward each time he stepped back. No way was he running. No way was I losing him. No. Way.

  He yanked a hand through his hair, flinching when strands stuck to his bloody palm. “Take Iris and go. I’ll stay here, maybe try to lock myself in one of the holding cells.”

  “I’m not leaving you here, Bren,” I said firmly, getting close enough to touch him again. “You’re not a Berserker. I trust you with my life.”

  “Don’t you dare trust me, Lune Avery!” he thundered. “I’m not safe.” And instead of retreating, he grabbed my arms and shook me. My eyes were wide, jaw unhinged as he thrust his face near mine and bared his fangs.

  I should have been scared out of my mind. I should have been disgusted by the coppery smell of blood on his skin. I should have been a million things—anything—other than relieved.

  But his grip on my arms was gentle. And I knew, just knew that he was still him. Still my Bren. So I stepped into him. Raised my hands to his face and said, “You are my safety.” When he didn’t resist my touch, I carefully wiped the blood from his mouth. “Don’t take that away from me just because you’re scared.” I rubbed at the blood on his chin in vain, only smearing it further. “You need something, and I’m going to give it to you now.”

  Those final words broke him.

  He folded inward, dropping his hands as I drew him to me. His body, built for strength, speed, and predator-like precision, collapsed against mine. My arms were around him, my cheek pressed to his blood-spattered heart when a violent shudder shook him. He pulled me even closer and buried his face in my hair, choking back sobs.

  My very soul ached at the wretched sounds. Weeped at its other half’s misery. But it was here. I was here. And all we could do was comfort our soulmate, be there as he mourned the loss of his former self. We both mourned with him.

  He suddenly stiffened, lifting his head. A growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through mine.

  “Brother.”

  Startled at the new voice, I tried to pull away.

  Bren’s arms tightened, trapping me against him as he said, “We aren’t brothers. Not anymore.”

  Ryker stood inside the double doors, armed to the teeth.

  None of his weapons were pointed at us, but I knew better than to trust his relaxed pose. “Are you friend or foe?” I asked, prying myself from Bren’s grip to face him.

  Ignoring the question, he said, “The villagers did their thing with the power outage, and everything else has been set into motion. But you know I can’t speak of it.” He tapped at where the restraining chip lay hidden. “So let’s not waste this opportunity by bickering over loyalties. Is she able to be moved?”

  I looked to where he was gesturing.

  Iris!

  I hurried to her, picking up the tool I’d dropped and the discarded lantern along the way. I touched her hair and cheek. Still unconscious. Covered in a white hospital gown, her thin frame was free of tubes except the one keeping her sedated and another for bodily fluids. My fingers shook as I twisted the tool to unlock her collar.

  Or, at least, I tried to.

  “It’s not . . . it’s not turning. Why is it not—?”

  A hand stayed my movements, loosening my hold on the tool. Startled, I jerked away, clenching the tool in a death grip.

  “Calm down,” Ryker said, reaching for the tool again. “I’ll do this while you—”

  Bren was suddenly in between us, shoving Ryker back. Whether he meant to push him that hard or not, Ryker hit the cubicle wall.

  In a flash, they were nose-to-nose, bristling with aggression.

  “What’s your problem?” Ryker growled.

  “Don’t touch my mate,” Bren snarled, baring his elongated canines. Ryker tensed but held his ground.

  Crap, we did not have time for this.

  “Boys,” I snapped, getting their attention by wedging myself between them. “You can go at it when we’re out of this mess. We have a lot of people to set free.”

  Ryker glared at Bren a moment more before holding out his hand. “Let me work on the collar. Your friend Asher made contact with you-know-who the way he usually does an hour ago. But they need an update on progress inside the bunker. Tell them we’re on our way out.”

  I nodded, relinquishing the tool with a warning look. If anything happened to Iris because of him, I’d have his head.

  Before I could form a mind connection that would suck more of my dwindling energy, Ryker murmured, “What happened to him?”

  Bren heard but only snorted, crossing his arms. The action puffed up his chest even more, an intentional move if I ever saw one.

  I rolled my eyes. “He was injected with an enhancement serum.”

  Ryker studied Bren with a shrewd eye, taking in the bulging muscle and blood stains. When his gaze flicked to Lars’s body, I could have sworn Bren deflated a bit. “So it’s actually real? It works?”

  “Oh, it worked,” Bren interjected, his voice hard as granite. “But the side effects almost killed me. Then again, that’s probably a risk you’re willing to take. You’d do anything to remain in control of the Recruiter Clan, after all.”

  A muscle thrummed along Ryker’s jaw, but he didn’t comment. Good. At least one of them was attempting to focus on the task at hand. Not that I could blame Bren. He had suffered greatly from Ryker’s past actions. We all had. It was hard to see clearly on the other side of betrayal.

  While Ryker tinkered with the collar, I formed a quick mind tether with Jaxon. “The time to stop Renold is now,” I said in parting. Once they arrived, The Ridge’s stealth team led by Yukiko would rappel over the wall. The mission was to open the gates and let in the rescue team before the guards could sound an alarm. Hopefully all those war games they played in the Abilities Competition paid off tonight.r />
  So many things could go wrong, though. The electricity could turn back on and kill anyone in contact with the wall. The guards could spot them and open fire. I gave my head a shake, reaching for the extra clothes Ryker had brought. I couldn’t afford to think of worst case scenarios. There were too many.

  The people involved in this mission had made a decision to sacrifice everything for a better tomorrow. One where madmen like Renold couldn’t dictate their choices. Some things were worth risking everything for. My eyes rested on Iris’s limp form. And if it came to it, some things were worth dying for.

  I finished lacing my knee-high boots—boots that Ryker must have taken from my room in Tatum House, along with the leather pants and steel gray shirt I now wore.

  I was buckling on my dagger harness when Ryker said, “The tool wasn’t made for this collar. I can’t get it off.” My heart sank. I quickly shook off the helpless feeling and grabbed a handful of throwing knives, their solid weight a small reassurance.

  “We’ll figure it out later. Bren, can you carry her?” I glanced over to see him fully dressed in all black. Probably Ryker’s clothes. Still, the shirt could barely contain his new muscles. As much as I appreciated the sight, though, I had to focus.

  He adjusted the leather straps across his chest, a quiver of arrows and the tip of a su-yari poking over his shoulder, before answering, “I don’t think I should.”

  I frowned when he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Why not?”

  His attention went to the hands splayed in front of him—hands free of shackles and caked in dried blood. “Look at me. I can’t fix this. If I lose control for even a second, I could crush her.”

  I stepped forward, all too aware of the way he tracked the movement, of the way heat and raw power emanated from him as I slid my hands into his. My fingers were delicate and pale as milk compared to his, but he grasped them gently. As always. I peered up into his face, capturing his gaze. “I am looking. And I know with absolute certainty that there’s no safer place to be than in your arms. You won’t hurt her. I know you won’t.”

  When his expression clouded with doubt, my fingers squeezed his in challenge. I tugged him over to Iris, feeling fear tremor through him. But when I guided his arms around her, he didn’t flinch back. Once she was secure against him—a slip of a girl cradled in the paws of a beast—it took me a moment to collect myself.

  “What’s wrong?” The panic in Bren’s voice dragged a strangled laugh from me.

  I brushed a pesky tear away. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re amazing, that’s all.”

  He looked startled by the words, but before he could reply, Ryker emerged before me, slinging a bow and arrow quiver over my head. “Focus,” he said. “I didn’t sneak in here just to watch you two make eyes at each other. Once we leave this room, be prepared to fight. Anyone standing in the way of our mission is the enemy. This won’t be like the Elite Trials. There’s no rules, no controlled environment. If you want to survive, allowing the enemy to live might not be an option.”

  “But they’re not our enemies. Not really,” I countered. “Renold is the villain here. He should be our sole target.”

  “He is. But what do you think he’s doing right now knowing that people are trying to sabotage his work here? He can’t face the insurgents alone. With the electricity down, I bet he has every single elite and then some on high alert. And what lies do you think he’s told them? What deals and promises did he make to secure their loyalty so they’d faithfully follow him into battle to protect this city? Yeah. Things are going to get ugly.”

  There was no arguing with that. He was right. “We’re going to need more numbers then.” Goosepumps peppered my skin as an idea formed. I turned and approached Lars. His body had fallen face upward and I tried not to look, tried not to notice the pool of dark blood beneath him. I crouched, holding my breath as I rummaged through his pockets. When I found the keys, I quickly stood.

  My eyes betrayed me then and glanced at his. They were black, empty pits. I forced myself to look away and leave without a word. I had nothing to say to him.

  Renold had said that war wasn’t his intention, but he’d created power-hungry elitists like Lars who would fight for him if it meant securing their futures.

  War was inevitable when minds were bent on destroying others to feed their own desires. War could destroy us, but at least we were doing something. At least we were fighting back, at long last.

  And we were doing it together.

  “Once The Ridge arrives with more weapons, we’ll have the advantage,” Bren said when I rejoined them, his earlier vulnerability replaced with a calm sureness. “And don’t forget about the villagers. They’ll follow you, Lune.”

  I nodded, despite the doubt and worry tightening my muscles.

  “So let’s get out there and show them you’re still alive,” Ryker said, holding the lantern out to me. “A revolution needs its leader.”

  I gaped at him. Crap on a cookie, nope. I was so not the leader. But I accepted the light anyway. At least I was fully clothed now. Leading an army in underwear wouldn’t have been ideal.

  I had standards.

  “I’m a beast-taming, kick-butt warrior princess,” I whispered as we exited the room I hoped to never see again.

  “Heard that,” Bren and Ryker said at the same time.

  Gah!

  The long stretch of hallway ahead was equally dark, but we weren’t alone. I could still feel them behind their locked doors. Lars’s keys bit into the cut on my palm as I squeezed them, indecision a dreadful weight on my chest. I cautiously peered into one of the windows. Pitch black. Silent. Something slammed into the narrow pane of glass and I bit back a yelp.

  Ryker grabbed my arm, hissing, “What are you doing?”

  At Bren’s warning growl, I pulled away. “They’re prisoners. We have to release them.” The keys clinked together as I readied to insert one in the lock.

  Ryker blocked my attempt. “I was told not to let these ones out. They’re mentally unstable. If—”

  “Halt!” a voice shouted.

  A sizzling blue ball of electricity shot toward us. Ryker slammed my back against the wall, shielding me from the blast. As I turned to make sure Bren and Iris were safe, Ryker yanked an arrow from his quiver and aimed down the hall.

  I heard a whoosh and thunk, then a loud thud as the guard fell. Ryker melted into the shadows, returning with a new weapon and set of keys. I didn’t dare ask if the guard was dead. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at him and said, “I don’t care who you’ve been talking to or what other tricks you have up your sleeve. We’re releasing these prisoners, dangerous or not. Besides, if you haven’t noticed, we’re all a little insane.”

  “She has a point,” Bren said in a faintly amused tone. “We should give them a chance.”

  Ryker’s face settled into irritable lines, but he grumbled, “Fine. If they cause a problem, though, I’m zapping them.”

  I snorted. “Fair enough. Now help me get these doors open before more guards come.”

  We worked in silence, the only sound an occasional thump and rattle of metal as we struggled to fit the keys in the locks. Every time a prisoner was freed, they were greeted by an enormous man with wild, flashing gold eyes. It didn’t matter that he cradled a small girl in his arms. No one moved beyond the glowing lantern set on the floor.

  When the last door was unlocked, at least three dozen people were huddled in the hallway. I avoided their haunted eyes still silently begging for help. I recognized a few of them, villagers who had disappeared some time ago. They were of varying ages, the youngest barely older than me. Wearing white shorts and a tank top, she looked defeated. Broken.

  I pressed my lips together and picked up the lantern, wordlessly waving them forward. Nothing I said would ease their suffering. But maybe after tonight, just maybe, they’d get a second chance at life.

  Problems arose as soon as we left the research wing behind. Two more guards spotted us, alerted to the h
iss of three dozen shuffling bare feet. Three freed prisoners were hit by volt darts before Ryker and I could incapacitate the threat. We dragged the guard’s unconscious bodies out of the way, picked up our wounded, and hurried on. Doctors and handlers shouldn’t be roaming the halls this time of night, especially with the power down, but we were still vulnerable in these narrow passages.

  I readied my keys again as we neared the location of the other prisoners I’d seen a few days before. We rounded the corner only to be stopped by a guard.

  “Freeze!” he barked, pointing his volt gun at my head.

  Before Ryker could shoot him, I immersed into my mind, pulling energy to me with a swift tug. “You freeze,” I ordered. When the guard obeyed, I added, “Now zap yourself.”

  As he crumpled to the floor in a twitching heap, I let go of the energy with a weary sigh. Several gasps and whispers leaked past the fading rush of adrenaline leaving my body.

  “Conserve your strength,” Bren murmured, brushing his arm against mine. “You lost a lot of blood earlier.”

  “They needed to see,” I replied quietly, moving forward again. “They have to know that we stand a chance against Renold when we ask them to fight beside us.” By revealing my power, I hoped to restore some of their own. They had abilities and we needed them.

  In less than half an hour, we had gathered over fifty people. The sharp bite of chemicals and fear permeated the air.

  As Ryker reached for the stairwell door, I said, “There’s a tunnel. It might be safer if—”

  “We stick to the plan,” he interjected, opening the door. “Tatum House is crawling with elites and we don’t have enough weapons. It would be a massacre.”

  I shook my head but followed after him as he ascended the stairs. “How do you know so much?” Can we trust you? I wanted to say but didn’t.

  He shrugged. “I’ve kept myself busy.”

  Well, I wanted to busy myself with planting a boot in his back for that cryptic response. But as we neared the first floor, a tense silence settled over our group. Not even the children whimpered. We all knew what resided on this floor. I wondered how many of them had been locked inside a cage like I had. I wondered how many hadn’t made it back out again.