More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds)

by Vyne, Amanda

  Incog would be coming for her. She cast a covert glance at Vincent Jennings. Either he was working for Incog and was here to scout ahead in anticipation of an Incog attack, or he worked for the Triumvirate and was here to exploit her attraction to Tag to gain information. Either way she needed to get away from him and move closer to wherever Meghann was being held. After what Brit had done to get here, Incog wouldn’t be very open to her explanation in the chaos of the takedown, and she refused to just sit back and hope Meghann made it out with the others.

  For a moment, panic sent her heart careening carelessly. She couldn’t come this close just to lose Meghann again.

  The sudden sensation of warm fingers sliding down her spine to settle heavily against her tailbone startled her, and she darted a look at Vin. He was frowning at her, his hazel gaze glancing curiously to her computer screen.

  “Calm down, love. You will be free again soon.”

  Her heart surged up into her throat with one savage beat, and Brit knew she needed to find a reason to be moved out of this lab and soon. Time was running out.

  Chapter Eight

  Tag paced the cramped interior of the surveillance van. He had to duck his head and hunch his shoulders to manage it, but he needed the movement to ease some of the restless energy that agitated not only him but his dragon.

  “Tag.” Katya elbowed him in the thigh when he jostled her chair again. “You’re rocking the entire van, and it’s making me queasy. Unless you want to get close and personal with what I had for breakfast, you need to slow down.”

  “Team Five is in position.” The words, sent by one of the Drachon team leaders, sailed in on a common telepathic wavelength.

  “Acknowledged, Team Five. Move on my word.”

  Tag could clearly hear Katya’s telepathic response. With so many Drachon on the takedown of the research facility, they’d decided to use their ability to connect telepathically as their primary means of communication. It was safer than any other transmission and had a lesser risk of being intercepted. It was supposed to have been his job, but Katya had threatened to shimmer into position if she wasn’t allowed to participate. Raife was understandably protective of his pregnant mate, but he wasn’t stupid, and he knew Katya would make good on her threat. That brought a brief smile.

  Poor Raife.

  Katya looked up at him and narrowed her eyes as though she knew the root of his faint humor. “That was the last team. We’re ready to go at your word, Tag. It’s time to contact your brother.”

  Tag cast a shuttered glance at the tiny blonde. Contact your brother. It sounded so simple, yet every touch of his mind to Vin’s left him just that more vulnerable. Think of the doc. If Vin was to be believed, they had a shared goal in protecting Doc. Focus on that.

  “Vincent, we’re in position.”

  “Wait. I don’t have her.”

  Tag’s body jerked as though he’d taken a shot to the chest. “What? Why? You’re entire purpose was to protect her during the raid.”

  Vin’s mind hovered just outside of Tag’s reach, and he could almost see the blur of color and texture that was his brother’s thoughts. The patterns were very similar to the doc’s. “Vin, what the hell is going on? I’ve got a damn army of Drachon waiting out here.”

  “When I told her your team was near, she demanded to be removed,” Vin mused. “I don’t think she wants to be rescued—yet. I suspect she came here for a specific reason, and she hasn’t accomplished her goal.”

  “I don’t give a damn what she wants.”

  “Somebody should.”

  Right. As though the doc wasn’t capable of watching out for her own interests. What was that infuriating woman after anyway? Everything he’d seen suggested she was willing, even eager to be sent into that hell. What was so important she’d been willing to trade Incog out? Trade herself out?

  Fuck.

  Tag smoothed a hand over his head and turned to glare at the concave wall of the van, wishing not for the first time that day that there was more room to pace the damn thing.

  “Tag?”

  Katya was waiting on him, and he could feel her gaze on his shoulders.

  “Dammit, Vin, we wait too long and we’re going to lose the element of surprise. Forestor will make the call if I don’t.”

  His brother’s thoughts grew hard and cold. His humanity receded until it was no more than a residue on the edges of his mind. The sensation was unsettling and unfamiliar. Vin had always been a warm and tolerant person when they were boys. Now there was a honed element to him that let Tag know his brother would do what was necessary. No qualms.

  “Give me fifteen minutes to get into position, then give the command. Brit will have cover by then. I will see to it.” Vin’s thought moved through Tag with such precision and deadly intent that he didn’t think to question his brother.

  Tag braced his hands low on his hips and met Katya’s questioning look. He couldn’t help but lift a shoulder in an attempt to shrug away the crawling stir of premonition that tingled up his nape. Vin was definitely not the man he once knew, and right now Tag didn’t give a fuck as long as his brother kept his end of the bargain and got the doc out alive.

  “Tell Gideon to get in position.”

  Katya gave him the thumbs-up. Gideon was a member of their team at Incog. He was a phantom who had unquestionably proven his loyalty to Incog and yet kept his distance. Gideon refused to allow the doc to treat him. Neither Tag nor Raife were capable of communicating telepathically with him. He refused all of them that level of trust except Katya. She was a different story. Gideon was soft on her, allowed her to touch his mind. That irritated Raife, and anything that irritated Raife amused Tag.

  “Gid is on the move.” Katya turned to Tag, her head tilted, eyes distant. She was intriguing, a crossbreed that had a little bit of all the species of Arcane in her—a pure Rogue. Now that she’d mated Raife, each skill set was getting stronger. Right now her emerging telepath abilities were in overdrive. She was obviously communicating with Gideon, who wasn’t a telepath—that they knew of—and that was amazing.

  A frown marred her face for a brief second, but the lines soon smoothed out. “He’s almost in position.”

  Tag paced away from her with a nod. That damn tingle plagued the back of his neck, and he rubbed at it. He’d always been content to be behind the scenes, collecting and organizing the intel the field agents needed to complete their missions. Yet this time he was assaulted by this fucking sense of unease and anxiety. His dragon wanted to be in there. For the first time, it wasn’t satisfied with twisting and reforming the little bits of data that skittered through his equipment into solid useful information.

  Tag paced in the limited space.

  Hell, he couldn’t even make it sit. Bad dragon.

  Katya smiled, her pale blue eyes clearly focused on him and brimming with humor.

  Tag frowned at her. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

  “It’s a small space, and you’re projecting. Like a baby.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Merrick.” Tag grunted. As a witty response, it clearly failed, but it was the best he could do. Even his usual sarcasm was failing him. His skin wanted to crawl off his bones, wrap itself around the spirit of his dragon, and singlehandedly take down this freak tank just so he could have Doc back where she was safe. Under the all-seeing eyes of his surveillance system.

  For ten years, he’d always known where she was and what she was doing, despite her highly vocalized displeasure at what she deemed his “Neanderthal” tendencies. That fraction of control, even if it was only an illusion, had soothed him all these years. It had only been three days of not knowing, and he was unraveling faster than Raife when Katya left his sight for more than ten minutes.

  Hell, he didn’t want to turn into Raife, who had gone from a hard-core Drachon male to a damned nervous wreck barely clinging to his balls.

  Katya chuckled. “At least you gave him the courtesy of balls this time.”
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  Tag snorted. “I’m feeling generous.”

  Concentration suddenly cast a shadow over her eyes again, and he stopped pacing to watch in anticipation. “Gid is in position,” she said woodenly. “He says hell has broken loose. Your brother managed to get through the security to Dr. Rupple’s private lab but can’t get any farther.”

  Katya blinked, and concern flooded her gaze. He sure as hell didn’t like that look. “Spit it out, Kat.”

  “Dr. Rupple has barricaded himself in. With Dr. Mahoney. He’s using her to keep your brother out.”

  Tag growled, his dragon writhing beneath his flesh. “All teams move in.” He broadcast the order, his fury giving the thought a fiery burst. “Vin? Where’s the doc?”

  “Rupple has her. Gunfire.” His brother’s response lacked even the residue of humanity, burning with the instinct of the dragon. “I can smell her blood.”

  With a roar, Tag erupted from the van into the heat of the day.

  * * * *

  Brit could feel him. Them. The combined assault was like standing too near a fire. Her flesh tightened and heated with an awareness that made her want to claw at her skin. She knew Vin was just outside the door, his growls a menacing rumble that permeated the thick steel walls.

  Tag was near as well. Too near. That meant Incog was advancing. Brit cast a glance at Dr. Rupple, her gaze focusing on the gun he had trained on her chest. Although she’d convinced Rupple to remove her from the lab she’d been locked in, she hadn’t gotten far when the alarm sounded and they were alerted that Vin had escaped. The man took his job of looking out for her very seriously.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Dr. Mahoney,” Rupple said as he calmly packed a silver case with vials, the gun never wavering. “I’d thought for certain with your background, you’d be supportive of what I’m trying to accomplish here.”

  Brit felt something curl and shrivel deep inside her at the words. No, she wouldn’t let the memories of what she had done touch her. She deadened the pathway that led to emotion, particularly that suffocating sense of guilt and horror and pain that came with those memories. She had a chance to right some of her past, but she feared that chance was slipping away with every passing second.

  Dr. Rupple was too calm. Too assured. He didn’t have that desperate edge one would expect a man in his predicament to have. No, he was meticulously gathering all his samples, packing them in a case clearly meant for transport.

  Fear coalesced in her gut. He fully expected to escape unscathed. Had she led the Incog agents into a trap? Although she was careful to keep a cool and analytical barrier between herself and the crossbreeds she treated at Incog, she had developed an attachment to them. She watched the humor and affection they shared, and although she wasn’t included in that interaction directly, it had eased that hollow craving for contact she’d fought these past ten years. They were her family or as close as she would ever let herself get. She couldn’t be responsible for their deaths—couldn’t go through that again.

  Adrenaline spiked her blood, and she had to exert tremendous restraint over the resulting panic that threatened her control. It was different this time. She wasn’t an irrational, emotional adolescent. She was an intelligent adult in full command of her faculties, capable of analyzing the situation and manipulating the outcomes.

  Brit just had to think.

  “I had high hopes that you and Dr. Jennings would help me conquer the final hurdle.” From outside the door, she could hear another menacing growl. Dr. Rupple’s lips thinned, and he adjusted his aim. “His hormonal reaction to you has obviously hindered his ability to function in a scientific capacity.” Another growl sounded. “Or any rational capacity at all.”

  Dr. Rupple was using a threat against her life to keep Vin outside the door. Was he aware the facility would soon be under attack? More than most, she was aware of the capabilities of the crossbreed agents employed at Incog. It was a real possibility the facility had already been infiltrated. She hadn’t been able to convince Dr. Rupple to allow her to see her sister, and now she had to trust Meghann would be rounded up with the other subjects being held here. She told herself Meghann was safer within that anonymity than if Brit were to seek her out. She just needed to focus on Dr. Rupple and stop him from taking any of the research with him.

  He didn’t seem too concerned, and he was preparing to leave. She cast a covert glance around her. The usual shelves and cabinets lined the concrete walls. Nothing that indicated there was another exit aside from the one Vin was clawing at. Did Dr. Rupple have an escape route from this lab?

  “Dr. Rupple, the exterior security has been disengaged. We are under attack. Secondary protocol has been engaged.”

  Brit looked at the intercom on the wall. Incog had arrived. Secondary protocol? So, Dr. Rupple did have a plan for escape.

  He paused as he ingested that information but then finished nesting the vials into the foam of the case. “It’s no matter. I have all the research. It may take longer than I would like, but I can continue on at a new location. And I still have you.”

  “And what of the subjects? What will happen to them?”

  Rupple shrugged one thin, skeletal shoulder. “I have the samples I need.” He patted the side of the silver case. “Without you, Incog will never be able to determine the importance of the subjects, and they will eventually be released. We can easily recover those that proved promising.”

  Brit swallowed and stared at the vials. She was positive her sister was among the number of people being held in this facility. This research, the project she’d started all those years ago, would make certain Meghann and all the others would always be in danger. Hunted. It was a life she didn’t want to share with her sister, if she lived. She couldn’t—wouldn’t let that happen.

  “And the data?”

  Dr. Rupple’s smile was mocking. “All the data on the servers was wiped when secondary protocol was enacted. Come now, Dr. Mahoney, you know as well as I how vulnerable information stored on computers can be. It was why we found nothing in your files when we infiltrated Incog’s security. I am no more a fool than you are.”

  Keeping the gun leveled at her, he opened a seemingly innocuous cabinet. It revealed the front of a safe, and he leaned in to release the lock with a retinal scan. Piled inside the compartment was a short stack of ledgers. His lab books.

  Brit waited, heart surging. Of course. Most scientists kept meticulous lab books, especially those who mistrusted technology. All of his data from the ARSA project had to be in those books. Supplemented with her own knowledge and current suspicions, that data might help her reverse the damage done to Katya Schaffer before her body shut down. She needed those books. And she sure as hell couldn’t allow him to take them out of here.

  Scooping them up, Dr. Rupple waved the gun at her. “If you would be so kind as to collect the case, we can be on our way.”

  Brit stared down the gun and weighed her options. It was unlikely Dr. Rupple would seriously injure her if he needed her help on his research—at least that was the assumption she wanted to believe. Either way she could not allow him to continue this research, and she was the pin in this particular grenade. With a sigh, she reached for the case and fervently hoped Incog had the situation outside the lab under control. Otherwise she might be forced to engage Rupple for the gun to ensure her safety while she waited. The thought of even so much as touching the weapon made her cringe. She was one of the few employees at Incog who had refused weapons training.

  “Training would have been useful at this moment. You will learn when we get you to safety.”

  Brit cast a disgruntled glare at the steel door as the rumbling words rolled through her mind. Not bloody likely. She would rather leave the chest beating to the Neanderthals and trust in science to help her out of tight spots. Clenching her fingers around the sample case, she took a deep breath. Science was going to render Dr. Rupple unconscious in just a moment—with her help, of course.

  Beyond the room,
the animalistic growls grew in intensity as though Vin knew her plans. He was a Drachon, and if he was anything like his brother, he likely did. It must be genetic, the Jennings tendency to overlook personal boundaries when it came to private thoughts.

  “Britony.” The warning thundered through her mind. “I forbid you to endanger yourself.”

  This Jennings would learn as well as the other that she did not take orders. What he forbade was of no consequence to her. He was out there, and she was trapped in here. Right now, she was the only one capable of affecting any type of resistance against the nasty little doctor.

  Without betraying her intentions with even a twitch—a skill she’d perfected these past ten years—she advanced on the doctor. When he motioned with the gun toward the far corner of the lab, she continued to close the distance between them. A frown creased the narrow space between his small eyes, and he retreated a step, bringing the gun back around to her. Now was as good a time as any. She just hoped Rupple’s reluctance to kill her would delay his reaction enough to give her time to incapacitate him. Bracing her feet, Brit swung the case in an arc aimed at the doctor’s head, hoping the weight of the thing would make up for her lack of strength and provide the momentum that would be needed to lay the foul doctor out.

  The impact vibrated up her arm, and the unexpected crack of his gun was a heavy percussion against her ears. Fire exploded through her shoulder, but she maintained her focus. She could force her body to work in the lab for days without sleep or food. She could manage to capitalize on the doctor’s injury to obtain those books. Distantly she heard the roars that felt as though they rumbled up through the very floor and into her legs, but she was more interested in the second gun being aimed at her. While she’d been focused on Dr. Rupple, the tall, innocuous cabinet that housed a variety of different jars in the far corner had slid to the side to reveal a guard ducking out of a hidden passageway. She instinctively lifted the metal case up to block her body. The bullet from the guard’s gun slammed into case and sent it crashing back against her head.