Box Set: Rune Alexander- Vol. 4-5.5 (Rune Alexander Box Set Book 2)

by Laken Cane

  “I don’t know.” She squeezed his arm. “She became the demon, killed the Shop shooters, and took off.”

  “We saw the ashes,” Jack said. “She’ll be okay.”

  “The lab,” Strad said, bringing up what no one else wanted to talk about.

  Rune swallowed and pushed her fist into her chest. “Fucking jars.”

  “I’ll take Fie out of here.” He pulled the child closer to his massive chest. “Rune?”

  “I sent Owen to call in backup and transport. I’m going to search for the infant and the sheriff. Raze, guard those…babies in the lab. Jack, come with me.”

  And with their duties clear, Shiv Crew separated to complete the mission.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Rune and Jack jogged through hallways and tore rooms apart looking for the sheriff and the infant.

  They found three more exits, and finally Rune had to give up. The sheriff had gotten away, her knowledge of the mazes beneath the earth securing her freedom.

  Gotten away with the little black-haired baby. Rune was responsible for the newborn. She’d delivered it. She’d brought it into the world.

  She wanted it safe.

  “Let’s go back to the lab,” Rune said. “Wait for the Annex. I want to be there when they take the babies.”

  Jack nodded and pulled at his black eye patch. “What are they, Rune?”

  “They’re alive,” she snapped. “And I want to keep them that way.”

  When they arrived back at the room of jars, Raze was sprinting across the floor, his wolf-like eyes lighting with relief when he saw Rune coming. “Hurry,” he said. “Something…something bad.”

  God. But wasn’t it always something bad?

  She followed him to the tank, terrified the babies were gone.

  But it was worse than that. So much worse.

  Raze turned away. “I…” he said, and that was all.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered.

  The tank babies weren’t dead. At least, two of them weren’t. The baby in the middle, the one who had opened her eyes, was busy eating one of them. The other one floated peacefully, unaware that it would most likely be cannibalized as well.

  The middle baby had grown since Rune had left the room. Not a lot, but enough so that she could see the difference. It—she—had sprouted fangs and claws and held her sister in a bloody grip, her claws biting into the other child’s lifeless body as she didn’t just drink blood, but tore into the flesh with her fangs as though she were eating chicken.

  Rune retched.

  Jack pulled his gun and pointed it at the tank. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he said, and started to pull the trigger.

  “No,” Rune shouted, and knocked the gun out of his hand. It went flying and hit a table, then fell to the floor in a silence broken only by the sounds of cracking bones coming from the glass tank.

  “Rune,” Jack said, his voice disgusted, horrified. “Fuck you.”

  “She can’t help it.” She couldn’t look at the monstrous baby, but stared into Jack’s face with a desperation she couldn’t hide. “She was made that way. It’s not her fault. It’s not her fault, Jack.”

  He took a deep breath, comprehension dawning. Without another word, he went to pick up his gun.

  “Do you want her to exist,” Raze asked, “knowing that someday she’ll have to live with what she is? What she’s done?”

  Like you did?

  He didn’t say that part, but he didn’t have to.

  Finally, Rune glanced back at the tank. Parts of the dead infant floated through the water, and little silver flashes swam slowly, somewhat dazed, around them.

  The cannibal closed her eyes, leaving her other sibling alone—for the moment—and appeared to sleep. Her fangs were long, too long for her tiny face, and hung sharply over her bottom lip.

  She was fucking hideous.

  And a real monster. As Rune had been. Hadn’t she killed and drained her parents, after all? Hadn’t she turned them?

  She was the baby in the tank.

  “Dammit Rune,” Raze said. “You can’t leave them alive.”

  But she had to. No way could she murder the infants.

  “The Annex will take care of them,” she said, her voice soft. “They’ll train them, make them…”

  “Less inclined to eat a person?” Jack was angry, even though he was trying not to be. “I understand how you feel, Rune, but you have to do the right thing. The logical thing. Not the emotional thing.”

  “Shit, Jack,” she said. “Do you wish someone had killed me, then? When I was a fucking infant?”

  Owen slipped into the room. “Annex is here. Eugene is with them, and he wants to see you, Rune.”

  “Rune?” Jack asked, when she didn’t move. “We’ll do whatever you want us to do.”

  It was all on her.

  She stared at the babies, floating with peaceful innocence in their glass womb. “Don’t kill them,” she said. “They deserve a shot at life. It’s not up to us to end them because we’re afraid of them.”

  Jack holstered his gun and turned toward the door. He passed Owen without a word. Raze strode after him and finally, with one last look at the babies, Rune followed.

  Owen shot out a hand to stop her. “I need to tell you. Lex…”

  She closed her eyes in one long, tired blink. “What happened?”

  “She went into town and ended up destroying nearly everyone who wasn’t hiding inside his house.”

  “Why?” she asked. She didn’t really care, but Owen seemed to think she should.

  He hesitated. “She said it wasn’t her, it was you. It was your…influence inside her. She said you yanked out a black soul and wrapped it in evil, and sent it out to kill the world.”

  She massaged her stomach. “Do you think I’m evil, Owen?”

  His eyes were unwavering. “I think you’re a lot of things.”

  She stared at him for a moment longer, hoping, maybe, for him to backtrack. To tell her she was brave and amazing and good. That she was a protector. That she was worthy.

  His gaze softened as he watched her, and finally, he reached out to wipe away a bloody tear she hadn’t even been aware she’d shed. “You’re essential, Rune. You’re a mix of many things. But whatever you are, you matter.”

  “Guard the babies,” she murmured.

  She left then, walked out to meet Eugene, sure of only one thing.

  She was her monster.

  Whatever that meant.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Where’s Strad?” she asked Raze, when she walked outside, shocked to find a weak sun trying to break through the fading night sky.

  She drew in the fresh pureness of the air. The underground rooms had been stale and old. Unseen particles of noxious, bad magic had hung in the air, hurting her chest and clouding her mind.

  She barely glanced at the piles of dead lying in her path. It was a sight she was accustomed to seeing.

  “He went to hand Fie over to a couple of ops to take back to the Annex.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t go with them to make sure she’s not taken again.”

  She nodded. Annex ops hadn’t kept her safe the first time. There was no reason to trust them. “He didn’t get the net off her?”

  “No. I don’t know how—”

  “Rune,” Eugene called.

  She turned to watch him striding toward her, three ops at his back. For a second she frowned as something about him seemed strange and out of place, then realized it was simply Iris’s absence.

  She didn’t wait for him to speak. “We found the lab. There are—”

  “You found one of them. The Shop will have more labs—worse labs—scattered across the country.”

  She folded her arms. “You haven’t seen what’s in there, dude.”

  “I don’t have to. I know what’s in there. My people have informed me that you’ve discovered some jars of mutated Others.”

  “Yeah. But they weren
’t alive. I found a tank of three infant Others. Alive.”

  He nodded and rubbed his hands together. “I’ll take care of them.”

  She kept her face blank although she shook with relief. The Annex would take care of the little ones. “Thanks. One of them didn’t make it.”

  “Unfortunate. You know what I stand for, Rune. Of course I’m going to take care of them. The Shop might have created them, but they’re ours now. Had we not discovered them the Shop would have turned them into killing machines of power.” His breath hitched and again, he rubbed his hands together. “This is good. Who knows what they’re capable of?”

  She clenched her fists. “You’re planning on doing the same thing the Shop was going to do.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, then dusted the arm of his suit. “I assure you, I will do nothing of the sort. I’ll study them, certainly. I will not raise them to be mindless, unthinking killers.”

  But she wasn’t at all sure.

  “We need the information,” he told her. “We need to know how the Shop managed this.” He turned and stared at the entrance of the compound. “How did they do it?”

  He didn’t expect an answer from her, maybe, but she gave him one. “Magic. Some powerful mix of magic.”

  He looked at her, curiosity in his eyes. “Explain.”

  But that was all she had. “I don’t know. I don’t know how, or whose. I just know magic was one of the ingredients in that tank. Those babies were created of…”

  She hesitated when a distant voice echoed through her memory. What had Llodra said?

  “There is magic inside you. Now you must do what you were born to do. Destroy the evil. For that is why you exist.”

  There is magic inside you.

  Magic.

  “Rune?” Raze was frowning down at her. “What’s wrong?”

  She shivered. “Nothing.”

  Eugene eyed her for a second, then glanced at something behind her. “Owen. Lead me inside.”

  “I’ll take you,” she said, uncomfortable with her possessiveness over the babies but unable to help it. She turned to Owen, unaware he’d followed her out of the building.

  “You’re supposed to be guarding the babies.” Then she relented. He was close to collapsing. “Have someone take you back to River County.”

  “I’ll catch a ride with you when you’re ready to leave.”

  “No. You need to go now before you fall over.” She looked around at the dead who hadn’t gotten past her men. “Fucking town of Shop and slayers. It’s hell on earth.”

  “Rune,” Eugene said. “Let’s go.”

  “How is Nine?” she asked, walking beside him.

  He shook his head. “She didn’t make it. As soon as the baby was out, she died.”

  Her stomach tightened. “And the baby?”

  He hesitated. “It was…deformed. Monstrous. It lived for five minutes before we lost it.”

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But the deaths were not unexpected. And now with these new discoveries…”

  “How are you going to get them out of there?” she asked.

  “I’ll decide that after I see them.”

  “You have to be careful. One mistake and those kids could die.”

  “They’re not exactly kids,” he replied, his voice even. “And they could probably survive things even adult Others could not.”

  “You seem to know a lot about lab-grown Others.” She paused. “You’ve experienced this before?”

  “I get close,” he offered, “but it never turns out well.” He stopped inside the doorway and surprised her by reaching out to squeeze her arm. “This finding is magnificent. I knew I needed you on my side.”

  None of his words reassured her. Uneasy, she frowned. Something was not right. “Eugene—”

  But he interrupted her, beaming. “Come, Rune. Show me our beauties.”

  She caressed her stake scars, not even blinking when she felt the wetness there. “Something isn’t right,” she murmured.

  But the ops and Eugene urged her onward, and unsure but confused by that uncertainty, she led them to the lab.

  To the babies.

  The magic scared the fuck out of her.

  At the last moment, she straightened her spine. She was not vulnerable, and she was not weak.

  She was Rune fucking Alexander.

  She turned to the Annex ops. “Don’t take them out of here until you know exactly what the fuck you’re doing. If those babies die because of you, I’ll slaughter you sons of bitches.”

  They looked at Eugene, their faces paling.

  “Rune,” Eugene said, his voice soothing. “I want those Others alive more than you do. I will take care of them.” He seemed to think better of allowing her to lead him to the lab, because at the door he stopped her. “I’ll take it from here. Wait outside.”

  “Dude.” She curled her lip, then strode into the room.

  And stopped.

  “God,” she cried. “How?”

  The tops of the large tank had been pried up and placed in a careful stack upon the floor, then the tank had been upended.

  The tiny Others, not quite ready for their hasty birth, had been poured out onto the floor and then neatly beheaded.

  Their heads had been thrown callously into a corner.

  Rune stumbled to the still bodies, grief washing over her.

  The sheriff must have sneaked back to take care of the tank babies. The Shop wouldn’t have wanted their creations to end up in the hands of the Annex.

  She might have ignored Eugene, had he been someone else. His roar of rage would have been totally understandable if he’d been a different man. But he was Eugene Parish, man of few emotions, so she turned to look at him as he screamed in rage and anguish.

  “Sir,” one of the ops said. “Are you—”

  Eugene interrupted him by yanking the man’s blade from his belt and sticking it through his throat.

  The other ops backed away as their coworker fell to the floor.

  Then Eugene knelt beside Rune, and there they sat, full of grief and rage and frustration, until finally the berserker strode in, pulled Rune to her feet, and led her from the room.

  Chapter Forty

  “One of them is still alive,” Rune said, lying against the berserker’s back, her lips moving against his bare skin. “She’s out there and I have to find her.”

  “She’s not the same as the tank babies.”

  She was quietly glad he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Yes, she is.”

  She didn’t want to explain that the magic animating the tank babies had lived inside the one she’d delivered. She felt it.

  To everyone else—everyone except her and maybe Eugene Parish, but really, who knew what the fuck he thought—the tank babies lacked something that made them…loveable. That made them real.

  And the natural born baby hadn’t been like them at all.

  But she had been.

  They were the fucking same.

  Rune had no idea what that meant, except she had to find the baby she’d pulled out of the dying girl.

  She had to.

  Strad turned toward her, his face shadowed and smooth in the semidarkness. His eyes held the shine of worry. Not only for her, but for Fie.

  They couldn’t get the child out of the netting.

  They’d tried cutting, smashing, even burning the individual strands. The entire net reacted each time by threatening to squeeze the life out of the girl.

  Elizabeth was sitting in the Annex hospital at Fie’s bedside, and she wouldn’t leave the girl.

  Strad had brought in the dog he’d been keeping for the little necromancer, glaring at the nurse who told him she could not allow animals in the room.

  “You’ll allow this one,” he’d said.

  She hadn’t argued.

  “In the morning,” Strad said then, pulling her against his chest, “we’ll help the Annex with the search.”

  She rel
eased a tired breath. “We won’t find her, Berserker.”

  He ran his thumb over her lips. “I know why Parish wants her. Why do you?”

  “I need to find her,” she whispered. “I need to.” She darted out the tip of her tongue to taste the rough flesh of his thumb.

  He lifted her, his hands hard on her body, and set her on top of him. “Then we will find her.”

  She leaned forward and buried her face against his warm neck. “I have a bad feeling. I don’t think we’ll find her. Not in time.”

  “Doubt yourself if you must, Rune. Don’t doubt me. I will find her.” He wrapped his arms around her. “For you.”

  She shivered at the tone in his voice. The complete confidence. And she believed him. “Okay,” was all she could say.

  He tugged her hair until she lifted her face to stare down at him. “There are many things to worry about. You’ll worry about them tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” But her laugh was sharp and despairing.

  He cupped the back of her head, almost too hard, and pulled her face to his. Just enough for her to feel his lips move against hers when he spoke. “I’ll stay inside you. There won’t be room for anything else.”

  She closed her eyes when he ran his tongue across her lips.

  “You can’t fuck me forever, Berserker.”

  “Yes,” he murmured. “I can.”

  He gripped her hips and lifted her enough to force himself inside her, and she dug her fingers into his chest at the sudden hard invasion.

  She groaned.

  He flipped her over, and she cried out at the pain, a pleasure all on its own. And when an image of the slayers tried to gain purchase in her mind and she tensed, Strad pushed her mouth against his throat, fucking her hard, so hard, and held her there until she dropped her fangs and bit him. She fed on his blood, his sweet, strong blood, as he kicked that image the hell away.

  Because right then, there could be nothing but the berserker.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  “You’re mine,” he murmured.

  She didn’t think he was aware he’d said it aloud.

  It didn’t matter. Right then all that mattered was the blood and the berserker. They both would protect her—even from herself.