“Let’s take a look.” The doctor, who specialized in biochemistry, swiveled his stool back to the scope, peered into the eyepieces and adjusted the focus. The room was quiet waiting for him to speak. “Well, at first glance, I see a slight increase of white bloods cells. I’ll have to do some calculations to be sure.” His face stayed planted, looking into the eyepieces as he spoke.
“Meta blood has an increase of plasma and white blood cells. That’s normal for us,” Evan mused. “But an increase in white blood cells in humans means infection.” He glanced at the sullen profile of Cole’s father. “We’ll have to take samples periodically and compare them.”
The room was quiet for a moment, except for the beeping sounds from Cole and Farrow’s heart monitors. Everyone was worrying about what would happen next.
Chapter 2 Rabid Dogs
Gasp
Meg woke from a dreamless sleep with a scream still echoing off the walls of her room.
Her hands clutched her chest as though trying to calm a racing heart. Maze sat up, too. He was alert and growling; ready for a fight with whatever it was that scared her. Meg reached out to touch his thick, silver fur, more to soothe herself than him. The door to her room burst open and a hulking figure of a man stood silhouetted against the hallway light.
“Meg! Are you okay?” Creed’s voice growled protectively. He reached out and flipped on the light switch.
Meg held her arm up to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust. Maze whined and snuck closer beside her.
“I feel...I know Cole’s hurt. He was so angry—so jealous. He wanted the pain to go away. And Williams—Oh, God, Creed. Williams is on his way right now! He’s—he’s,” Meg stammered trying to find the right words to express what she sensed was happening, “Williams has lost all humanity. He’s amassed a group of metas, and he’s coming for us!” Meg started to hyperventilate even as she jumped out of bed, bolting toward the door.
Creed reached out and caught her by the hand, pulled her close to him and said, “Meg, whoa… breathe. You have to calm down, or you’re going to pass out.” He was rubbing his large, warm hands up and down her arms coaxing her body back from the brink of a panic attack. He kept his voice soothing, low and melodic, “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out together. There you go. Breathe, slow deep breaths for me.”
Her first instinct was to punch the crap out of him for stopping her from running down the hall, but the more he stroked her skin, the more Meg realized how out of control she was and needed him to help so she could think straight.
So she breathed.
Meg’s heart slowed to a fast beat, and her mind cleared.
He must have seen the effect he had because his own intensity eased up and he rewarded her with a crooked smile.
“Better?” he asked.
“Better,” Meg said.
His blue eyes flashed with emotions Meg couldn’t help but read. Meg blushed and glanced down at his strong hands still holding her shoulders before looking back into his eyes. He stood eight inches taller with thick, wide shoulders angled down to narrow hips. The heat radiating off his powerfully built body made the girl shiver for reasons having nothing to do with feeling chilled.
“Okay,” he said, reluctantly letting his hands fall to his sides as though completely unsure what to do with them now.
“Come with me?” Meg asked him.
“Yes, of course,” he said, somewhat flushed.
They hurried down the hall toward the laboratory at the back of Paulie’s home. Meg had a message to deliver.
***
“How much time do we have, Meg?” Evan asked. The two had hurried into a quiet laboratory moments before. After explaining to the family the empath readings that woke her so violently, they were all trying to figure what to do.
She held still for a moment, allowing her energy to seek out the hatred emanating from Dr. Williams even as he flew thousands of feet above the Pacific Ocean. Creed’s hand brushed hers gently, offering support.
“He’s feeling so much pain and anger. He feels like he’s finally going to get vengeance for—Did you know he had a daughter? June. Her name was June, and he blames us for her death.” She opened her eyes and looked directly at her mother. “He’s close, Mom. He’s flying a private jet full of metasoldiers and they’re only an hour and a half away from landing here on the Big Island.”
Everyone in the room tensed, eyes darting around.
Alik, ever the battle strategist, spoke first. “We need to contact him. Get him to meet us somewhere away from the house. I don’t want him anywhere near our injured.” He nodded to Cole and Farrow who both still lay unconscious.
“I hate to be the cynic here, but are we assuming Farrow is going to wake up and suddenly decide to fight against Williams?” Creed asked the room. “I mean, I know her better than anyone here, and I cannot vouch for her at all.” Creed looked directly into Margo’s eyes when he spoke this time and saw her slightly raised brow as a response. “—but then, you had no reason to trust me, and you did anyway.” Creed shrugged apologetically.
“We’ll give her the choice, when she wakes. She may surprise you, like you surprised yourself,” Theo said wisely. “Besides,” he continued with a nod toward Meg, “she can tell us Farrow’s true intentions immediately.”
Meg could feel Creed’s desperation for acceptance from the family crash over her like salty waves against rock. Without thinking, she leaned against his shoulder, offering her unspoken support. Her family knew she would warn them if he was a danger to them, but she knew the only threat he posed was to himself.
Creed was so anxious to be a part of a family, he would put himself in harm’s way time and again just to prove his loyalty, and with his “gift” of turning off his pain, Meg began to worry he was setting himself up for a strategic fatality. She reached out to hold his hand so she could read more deeply into him and stood quietly looking for the spark she hoped would be there. Meg needed to feel his will to survive, but however deeply she sought, there was nothing but his will to belong. Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother’s planning.
“What if we contacted Williams and told him we would meet him at a certain location to discuss the terms of an exchange?” Alik mused.
“No!” Meg barked to the room louder than intended. Damn it, she thought, I have got to learn to control my emotions better.
“No, what?” Alik asked, boring a hole in his sister’s face with his determination. He was not happy about being questioned.
“We can’t separate. He wants us to do that,” she pleaded with her brother.
“Listen Meg, I don’t want to risk anyone’s life when I know we can take him on neutral turf…”
“Alik Winter, you listen to me! I love you, but you’re wrong. We are our strongest when we’re together. We are family, and we fight against him as a family,” Meg matched her brother’s intense gaze until she saw his face soften.
“Maybe you have a point,” Alik conceded. He looked to Meg with a touch of awe as he sensed a deeper part of her evolution than they had already discovered. She ignored his probing gaze and kept talking.
“We need to devise a plan to fend him off from right here,” she continued. “Williams is going to come to us with guns blazing. I can nearly taste the energy of his wrath, it’s—visceral.”
“Meg, how many soldiers do you think he has with him?” Alik asked.
At her brother’s words, she shook herself planting her feet firmly on the ground, focusing on the furious venom Williams emitted. Everyone stayed quiet to try to help, but their anxieties screamed at the edges of her concentration. With effort, she pushed them aside, took a slow, deep breath and wrapped her thoughts around the vibrations belonging to the enemy.
“Fourteen. He’s bringing fourteen soldiers, and they’re not normal metas.” She forced herself to breathe deeply after noticing the shallow breaths fear was tempti
ng her to take. “Evan, what happens if someone were to take a double dose of the infinite serum?”
Evan was caught off guard. “I don’t know. Without researching it, I would just be hypothesizing. Why?”
Meg tried to keep the panic out of her voice. “I think we’re about to find out. These fourteen soldiers have just taken a second dose of the serum. All I can sense from them is primal rage.” She shook her head, trying to put into words the empath reading she was getting from the passengers on the jet aimed right for them. “Imagine what it would be like to hear the thoughts of a rabid dog.” she said by way of explanation.
“Oh, crap.” Theo blurted.
“That demented monster!”
“Son of a—”
“Fourteen of them?” Alik looked around the room.
Meg received another wave of empath readings and groaned at what she was about to say. Looking into Creed’s eyes, hating the anguish she knew her words would cause, she blurted, “Gavil is on the plane, too. He’s not just one of the rabid dogs, he’s their leader.”
“Sweet Mother Mary and Joseph,” Margo gasped, praying.
“Gavil? The guy with the letter opener?”
“Your brother? From the Retribution Match?”
“He’s like a bad penny; just keeps showing up.”
Everyone spoke at once, but Meg’s eyes never left Creed. She reached out to him with her heart and wrapped it around the torment she felt bubbling, black and infected there. Concentrating all her warmth and acceptance into the volatile bundle her heart now held, she pulled it—gently at first, not even sure what she was doing. Then, as the large ball of anguish shifted at her will, she felt empowered to pull harder, instinctively yanking the pain from his soul and praying for the strength to throw it up into the sky for God to shoulder.
Creed’s whole body shuttered violently, then he stood still. His breathing was instantly slow and steady as he opened his blue eyes and looked at Meg with awe.
“What just happened?” he asked her.
She felt a wave of dizziness and swayed on her feet. Creed caught her as her knees gave out.
“Meg?” His face was inches away from hers. She could feel his finally peace-filled heart vibrate with worry.
“Meggie, are you okay?” Her mom’s cool hands appeared out of nowhere and felt Meg’s face like she used to when she was a little girl.
“I’m okay. Just a little weak all of a sudden,” she whispered, still staring into Creed’s handsome face. Effortlessly, he slipped one arm around her back and the other under her knees, lifting and carrying her to one of the chairs against the lab’s wall.
“What just happened?” he asked again, too intent on Meg’s answer to worry about the others in the room watching the exchange.
“I know Gavil created a lot of pain in your life, and I sensed telling you he was not only alive, but changed—even more evil after being twice exposed to Williams’ serum—would be devastating to you.” Creed, and the rest of the family, waited for her explanation to continue. “So I reached into you with my emotions and took away your pain.” She shrugged, not sure how else to explain what she didn’t even understand.
“You reached into him with your emotions?” Evan asked incredulously. His scientific mind was having a hard time understanding this one.
“How do you feel, Creed?” Theo asked, never doubting a word Meg just said, only trying to understand.
“I felt awful a moment ago. Hearing Gavil’s name and knowing he’s coming to hurt my fam—I mean, to hurt you all. I felt so much hatred for what he has become. Then, I felt her move inside me,” he said, rubbing his chest. “Vibrations right here; they tingled, then I felt pure, white peace.” He sighed deeply, shoulders relaxed.
Meg smiled weakly at Creed’s retelling, understanding that he never talked about his feelings before he met her family. This was all so new to him.
“Meg, how are you feeling?” Paulie asked.
“I’m not dizzy anymore; I just feel super tired all of a sudden. I guess my evolution is more complex than we realized, ‘cause I’ve never done that before,” She looked to her brothers.
“I wish we had time to explore this new skill. Who knows, maybe it could help us fight Williams on a whole different battlefield?” Alik thought out loud.
“Maybe we can use it,” Margo said thoughtfully. “God gives us gifts and expects us to use them. Try to reach out to Williams, Meg—just as you did with Creed. Try to take away that anger you sense in him.” Margo was kneeling beside her daughter, looking intently into her eyes.
“I’ll try, but please don’t get your hopes up. I really don’t even know what I’m doing,” Meg shrugged apologetically.
Her mother nodded. “It’s okay, Meg. Just try. The worse that could happen is nothing, right?”
Meg closed her eyes, focused her energies once again to seek the venom flying through the sky toward them. He was easy enough to find. She reached out with her heart, as she had done moments ago with Creed, and tried to toss it over the blackened poison of Williams’ soul.
Chapter 3 A Demon with Wings
Dr. Kenneth Williams sat in his plush, navy leather recliner on his personal jet en route to the Hawaiian Islands. His fourteen soldiers, his Perficio Res, as he liked to call them, were barely able to control themselves enough to stay seated. The physician he brought with them had given the soldiers sedatives, enough to knock out a buffalo, but it had only taken the edge off their violent, erratic, beautiful behavior. Dr. Williams smiled a bloody-gummed smile.
“Sir?” The physician was trying to get his attention now.
“What is it, Dr. Chaunders?”
“Sir, I apologize for interrupting, but I’m concerned that the,” the sniveling little man hesitated, “soldiers are getting too restless and will need additional help managing these confines during the rest of the flight.” He looked back at the metahumans nervously. One was cracking his knuckles repeatedly; three were scratching as if they had ants crawling on their skin. Two more were mumbling to themselves while a couple others were gnawing on their lips making them bloody. The rest had taken to throwing eight-inch knives repeatedly at the galley wall, making some sport of it. It was a very disturbing sight.
“They do not need additional sedatives, doctor,” Williams spat. “I want them sharp and battle-ready once we’re on the ground. They have a job to do.”
“Y-yes, sir. Of course, you’re right.” The small doctor shuffled back to his seat, the furthest away from the demented metahumans as he could possibly sit, and kicked himself the umpteenth time for accepting the position at the Facility. He rubbed the greasy bridge of his nose under his glasses and thought back to the day he excitedly accepted the promotion of head research scientist for Dr. Kenneth Williams. He couldn’t have said no to all those zeros, but he wished to God he had. Now he was stuck. He was in too deep, and he knew it. Williams would just as soon see him dead as let him resign.
Dr. Chaunders use to wonder what it would feel like to dose himself with the Infinite II serum he handled on a daily basis. Looking at Dr. Williams, he was excruciatingly glad he never did. Glancing nervously to Dr. Williams, Chaunders grimaced. The sixty-year-old doctor looked like his head got caught in a meat grinder—the white shirt of his collar under his standard three-piece suit was stained red. One of his ears looked to be hanging by a flap of skin. His eyes leaked blood indiscriminately, and every one of his teeth had fallen out.
Good grief, Chaunders thought. Dosing myself with the Infinite II serum would have been more like a fate worse than death. Then his eyes darted back to the metahumans, twice exposed, as they cheered loudly at some grotesque thing one of them was doing to his own finger. Hell, this was all a fate worse than death, he groaned.
Sniveling little weasel, Dr. Williams mused at his physician. He chuckled to himself at the fear he smelled reeking off the man. It was a rancid mixture of sweat and urine and stung his raw nose with deliciousness.
That’s when he
felt it.
Not it, her.
He felt her probing.
She was stretching into him. Searching.
He cringed at the purity of her spirit as it touched his blackened soul.
He could almost smell her scent
Strawberries and something else…lilies? Yes, she smelled of fresh strawberries and Star Gazer Lilies.
The scent made Williams’ bloodied skin crawl, but he held still.
He wanted her to feel welcomed into his cancerous heart.
He wanted to infect her.
Ensnare her.
His beautiful little M57.
He wanted his daughter back.
Chapter 4 The Demon’s Abyss
Meg felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead from her intense concentration. Her energies were completely inside Williams now, searching for a spark of humanity, but only finding burning black shards of hate. Wherever she turned inside his heart, there was nothing but loathsomeness. She tried repeatedly to toss her white blanket of warmth around the blackness, but it did nothing accept burn.
She prayed for strength and forced herself to dive deeper, knowing her family was pinning their hopes on her frail gift, but it was like diving into death looking for life. She felt herself getting pulled further into the dark demon’s abyss, but she couldn’t stop. So unfamiliar, so ill-equipped was she at what she’d attempted to do, she hadn’t thought to leave herself enough strength to climb back out. It was too late now.
Williams’ sick thoughts spun frantically.
She saw everything—unable to close her emotional eyes to the onslaught of his sick views.
***
A scrawny, black-haired boy giggled excitedly as he broke open the eggs one at a time so he could cruelly dissect what would have been baby birds.
The same boy, a teen now, stood over an orange little ball of fluff, a glint of evil in the same beady eyes, as he stepped on the kitten’s neck. He felt a shiver of exhilaration at the sound of the tiny bones cracking. In his hands were his mother’s good knives. He didn’t even wait for the heartbeat to stop before he dug into his chest to see the warm organs.
Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) Page 2