A surge of panic flooded Brock’s system. Normally, Tessa would become increasingly agitated before an “episode”, letting them know something was up. If they stopped having those warning signs…
“Marcus dragged her out into the hall and is trying to calm her down, but it doesn’t seem to be working,” Vaughn said.
“Give me a status report on everyone at the ranch.”
Vaughn sighed. “As if I wouldn’t have told you first off that someone else was in danger. Porter… I mean Dexter…”
“I call them DP when they’re joined,” Brock said.
Vaughn paused again before speaking. “I’m not touching that one.”
“Could we focus please?”
“Right. ‘DP’ is in the lab and they have that locked down. Eli is in the ship with…well, you.”
“Good.” Brock could feel his heart racing. No wonder DP had stopped trying to break through and force Brock back into his body. They had enough they were dealing with back at the ranch.
“I don’t want to shock her again.” Vaughn’s voice was thready.
“Do it if you have to,” Brock said. “She’ll be grateful if it saves you.”
“I have another idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“Meg said she’s part of their pack,” Vaughn said. “The omega.”
“She did say that.” Brock didn’t like where this was going.
“All that alpha and omega stuff has been discounted in actual wolf packs,” Vaughn said, “but it holds true with werewolves. Tessa told me everything she knew about them so I could update their Dwellers Database entry. Right before she tried to kill me the first time.”
“The point, Vaughn.”
“Omegas calm the pack,” he said. “I don’t know how they do it, but that’s their role in pack hierarchy.”
“So, if I get Meg to Tessa…”
“Meg might be able to calm Tessa down.”
“Hang on,” Brock said. “We’ll be there soon.”
He locked his gaze on the section of his helmet that activated the “enhancements” Vaughn had created. The road ahead was lit in a ghostly blue light, each leaf on the trees that crowded up along the pavement etched in startling detail. Brock saw an owl turn and look at them for a split-second before they whizzed by, leaving a streak of red-orange biosignature that he was sure Vaughn had logged somehow.
“Are you afraid of heights?” Brock shouted over his shoulder.
“No,” Meg said. “Why?”
“There’s an emergency back at the ranch. Hang on tight, but not so tight that you make me black out, okay?”
He felt her tense and wished his fantasy from earlier could be true. Not just for his sake, but for hers. Just the two of them, riding off into the sunset. From what he could guess, she’d been through enough, and now he was taking her into the heart of a shitstorm.
It wasn’t like he could cut her loose.
All it took was the press of a button, and the wheels started to glow bright blue. He leaned his weight forward as the bike lurched up, the hubcaps separating from the wheels and fanning out on either side of them.
The hovercycle made a loud whoom as gravity tried to pull it back to the earth, but then it bounced up and away. In the next instant, they were airborne.
“What the hell is this thing?” Meg screeched in his ear.
“Hovercycle.” He craned his neck to try to smile at her before realizing his helmet made it impossible for her to see his face. He’d have to reassure her with his words. “Didn’t you know? The best Blades bases have them.”
Gazing around them with wide eyes, she laughed. “This is so cool.”
He wished there was time to show her more, to enjoy how amazing it was that they were flying over Providence on a machine that was based on the technology in an alien spaceship. But then, they were headed toward the spaceship itself—or at least the base that was built above it.
Tessa needed him. As did the rest of his surrogate and not-so-surrogate family.
“It gets better,” Brock said. “Hang on.”
He flicked his gaze to several spots on his helmet’s visor, just long enough to activate controls tied in with the bike. The next moment, they were hurtling through the air at an incredible speed, the city just a blur of lights beneath them.
Meg let out a little yelp and clutched him tighter. He was having a little trouble breathing.
“Um, Meg?” The words came out like a whisper, using up the last of his air. Luckily, werewolf hearing was pretty keen. When he tapped her arm, she got the message.
“Oh, sorry.” She loosened her grip a bit, but kept pressing her body against his back.
That was a new and…wonderful sensation.
He hadn’t made out with a girl since high school. His mom had been huge on abstinence. If she’d known that he’d broken her rules back then, even with the minor stuff he’d done, she would have killed him. Literally.
He felt his muscles tense as a hundred conversations tried to play through his head. They’d seemed weird at the time, but now that he knew what he was—and what his mom had been—they finally made sense.
His mom was a hunter. Brock was a threat. Simple as that.
She’d known what he was and feared he would infect anyone he had intimate contact with. At least he’d found out about himself before he’d made it farther than heavy petting. If his mom had been right about him, he never would have forgiven himself for turning someone—especially with the type of dweller he was.
“Are you okay?” Meg shouted so that he could hear her over the wind rushing past them and the drone of the bike.
“Yeah,” he shouted back.
Why the hell was he letting himself think about that? He only had a couple of days left. Sure, it made sense that he was nostalgic, but his parents had actually managed to give him eighteen years of a decent life. He needed to focus on what—and who—he was leaving behind. That included Meg, now.
If he could get her to integrate with Marcus and Tessa’s pack, maybe it would help stabilize Tessa. The fits of rage she kept having were getting worse. Once Brock and the replicants were gone, only Marcus would be left to keep her sane. Brock wasn’t sure Marcus could manage it.
This would be a good test to see if Meg was really as harmless as she was trying to make him think she was. Brock wanted to believe her, but if she was lying… Dexter needed to be around to deal with that scenario.
The ranch came into sight, a blip of pale gray in an expanse of darkness that stretched for miles. Vaughn’s family liked their privacy and had the money to keep the neighbors far away. Of course, the spaceship buried in the cave system under their land probably was a motivating factor in keeping their distance.
Brock slowed the bike and steered toward the barn that they’d converted into a garage. The doors opened as he approached. He pressed the button to convert back to ground mode.
When they were a few feet off the ground, the lights from the hubcap hover units dimmed and folded back onto the wheels. The bike hit the driveway with only a little bounce. Brock drove into the barn, barely slowing as they rode down the ramp that led to the real garage in the first sub-level below.
White walls sped past them. He braked, turning the bike in a semi-circle to dissipate more of their inertia fast enough to not smack into the wall. Luckily, the main garage was immense, holding two unmarked black vans, two other hoverbikes, and enough room for Vaughn to work on all the vehicles.
Brock’s maneuver left a trail of blackened rubber on the white floor. Vaughn was going to be pissed.
No one was there to greet them. Everyone must have secured themselves to ride out Tessa’s latest episode. Brock pulled off his helmet as Meg slid from the back of the bike.
“That was amazing,” Meg said.
Brock set the kickstand and jumped off the bike, then placed his helmet on the seat. “I’ll give you the grand tour as soon as I can. But first, we have a situation we could use your he
lp with.”
She smiled and stepped closer. “Anything.”
“Don’t be so eager,” he said. “I’m about to send you into the lion’s den. Or werewolf’s den, more like.”
A boom echoed in the space as something—someone—hit the sealed door between the garage and the hallway that led to the other chambers in the sublevel. It had to be Tessa.
Meg jumped at the sound, her full lips thinning as she pinched them together. She gripped the lapels of her jacket and pulled it tight around her body.
“Vaughn,” Brock said.
“I’m here.” Vaughn’s voice sounded over speakers that were embedded high on the walls of the room.
The door to the upper level slid shut with an ominous clang. Red lights blinked on either side of it, letting them know it was in full lockdown. Nothing was getting out of this room.
“What’s the situation?” Brock asked.
“Bad.” Vaughn paused. “I’m watching the hallway cameras. This might not be as good of an idea as I thought.”
Another loud bang reverberated through the room. Brock felt the vibrations of the impact through the floor.
Shit…
“I can do this,” Meg said. She quickly pulled her jacket off and draped it over the bike. Her shirt followed.
Brock’s jaw went lax. He snapped it shut as soon as he realized it. He knew he should look away, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.
From what he could see of her breasts, they were small and perfect, not that he had any business thinking about that at the moment. Or ever.
Her skin gleamed in the lights, golden and smooth, except for one pristine bite mark on her left bicep. There were no jagged edges to any of the puncture spots. It almost looked like she’d had her arm stamped by a werewolf skull, holding completely still while it happened.
Werewolf hierarchy was determined by violence, Tessa had said. Whoever fought the hardest while being turned eventually became the alpha of the pack.
There wasn’t an inch of Marcus, aside from his face, that wasn’t covered in bite and claw marks. Ugly scars with tears that showed where he’d been flayed trying to rip himself away or fight back.
Brock had shared Dexter’s awareness when Dexter killed the werewolves who turned Marcus—Meg’s pack. He’d seen the boy curled on the floor, racked with pain from the change. And Brock had seen what was left of Marcus’s family.
Tessa had being fighting for her life—for all of their lives—when she was turned. And the only reason Marcus infected her at all was to keep her from bleeding out. She’d cut off her own arm to escape the control of the parasitic Hive Father that was trying to take over her body.
Had Meg fought back at all?
Brock couldn’t imagine willingly becoming a werewolf, especially as a child. Whatever circumstances she’d been living in, it seemed impossible that joining the pack was trading up. Especially seeing as much of her as he could now.
There was no fat anywhere on her body. She looked half-starved—just bone and muscle and sinew. With how she’d reacted to him being kind to her back at the park, he doubted it was a byproduct of a high metabolism. It probably had more to do with being the pack’s omega.
Did they ever give her food?
She was wearing a tattered bra with beige cotton cups and black lace around the edges. One of the black straps of the bra had been tied in a knot to keep it in place. It looked ancient and worn.
He jumped when another boom sounded. Tessa must be throwing herself against the door. Meg walked closer to it, then looked over at Brock, a broad smile on her face and her eyes wide. She still looked scared, but also excited.
“I’m ready.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, arms straight at her sides.
“Ready for what, exactly?” Brock asked.
“To do my job.” She nodded at the door. “Let them in.”
The door vibrated with another bang.
“No fucking way.” DP’s voice came over the comm. “Brock, get in one of the vans.”
“If she’s staying out here, so am I,” Brock said.
Meg shook her head. “That’s too dangerous. I need them to come to me.”
“This isn’t happening,” Brock said.
“There are only two of them.” Meg’s voice was pleading. “I can handle it.”
‘Only two’? What the hell was she planning?
“Again, handle it how?” Brock was feeling worse about this by the moment.
A screeching sound replaced the intermittent booms.
“Vaughn?” Brock took a step closer to Meg.
“Shit,” Vaughn said. “She’s clawing the door with the cybernetic replacement arm I built for her.”
“But you didn’t make it strong enough for her to get through the doors at the ranch, right?” Brock asked.
Vaughn didn’t respond. He must not have thought it would be an issue when he created it—with good reason. Tessa had been fine until Brock showed up at the ranch.
Vaughn had built the garage—the entire base—to withstand all kinds of dweller attacks. Aside from what he called the “Boom Room”, he hadn’t bothered making it capable of withstanding his own tech. None of them thought it was necessary, since the Blades were the only ones on the planet who had access to Vaughn’s tech.
But Vaughn at least always worked in kill switches. Or in this case, a shock system.
“That’s it,” Brock said. “Shock her.” There was nothing else to do.
“Brock…” Vaughn said.
“She’ll live. And so will we.” Brock strode over to Meg, pushing her behind him. A dent had appeared in the door. “Do it. Now.”
“Wait,” Meg yelled.
Brock turned around. Meg’s eyes were glowing bright yellow.
“You trusted me back at the park and on the bike,” Meg said. “Please, can’t you trust me with this? I can handle them, I swear it. They know I’m here. I have to integrate with them now. If Tessa is wounded in our first encounter, it’ll ruin our chances of ever bonding. She’ll see me as a rival or an enemy.”
Brock looked back at the door, at the deepening dent. Meg couldn’t know what she was getting herself into. But then, who was the werewolf here?
“Please, Brock.” She tugged on his arm hard enough to let him feel a bit of her strength. “I’m begging you to trust me.” The light from her eyes sparkled and fragmented as they filled with tears.
He cupped her cheek with his hand. “Meg…” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but once their lips touched, he was lost. Her softness, her strength seeped into his body. He slid his hands around her waist, reveling in the satin smoothness of her skin.
She froze for a moment, but then stepped forward, pressing her body to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. When her lips parted, he deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into her warmth.
She let out a moan. The soft sound shot through him, bringing his dick to painful life within his tight pants. Brock hadn’t known that his replicants could even get erections.
“Brock.” The single word dripped with threat, echoing over the comm system.
DP. His replicant. Owner of the body Brock was borrowing and using to make out with a werewolf.
He pulled back.
Meg stared up at him with unfocused eyes. She swayed a little as Tessa hit the door hard enough to shake the floor.
“Wow, did the earth move for you, too?” Brock let out a chuckle, trying to cover for the cheesy line.
Smooth. Really smooth.
Meg glanced over at the door, then back to Brock.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry for wh—”
She ducked down, wrapping her arms around his waist and hefting him onto her shoulder. “Someone, please open the door to the closest van.”
“No,” Brock shouted. “No, no, no.”
He heard the door click and slide open
.
“Dammit, Vaughn, you are so fired,” he said.
“Okay, but remember this is my house, and technically all the tech belongs to me, and I’m the only one who understands it or can make more or new things,” Vaughn said.
Meg tossed Brock into the van, then stepped back. He heard her say, “I’m sorry,” once more before the door slid shut and clicked, blinking red lights along its edge letting him know he was well and truly trapped.
“Vaughn,” Brock yelled, climbing to the front seat so he could at least see.
Vaughn’s voice sounded from the van’s internal comm system. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your new girlfriend, but I also fund all of the Blades operations worldwide, so firing me really isn’t an option.”
“Is kicking your ass an option?”
“I don’t like threats,” Vaughn said. “And you’re lucky Marcus didn’t hear you say that. He’s very protective of me, you know. And before you get any ideas, Porter has my back one hundred percent on this. I mean DP.”
DP, who had stopped trying to get back into Brock’s consciousness. Which meant they were planning something, waiting for the best moment to crash through his defenses and kick him back into his own body again.
Tessa’s fist broke through the door, gleaming chrome and blue streaming lights humming along its surface. She widened the opening, her snarls and growls echoing in the room.
“Is Marcus even trying to control her?” Brock said.
“She’s broken his neck three times. Wait… He’s not moving again. Make that four.” Vaughn sighed. “Werewolves heal fast, but even he’s struggling to keep up.”
“Shit. Meg told me she can’t transform.”
Vaughn was silent for a few moments, then said, “She also told you she can handle this.”
“I know you hate shocking Tessa, but you have to be ready to—”
Tessa pulled her arm back through the door. Everything went still. The only sound Brock heard was his own panting breaths.
With a loud crash, Tessa kicked the door so hard it flew from its tracks, skittering across the floor. She stepped over the threshold into the garage, pulling herself up to her full height.
Reddish-brown fur covered her body. Long ears rose from the sides of her head and a muzzle dominated her face. Her eyes gleamed gold so brightly it was hard to look at them. Her lips peeled back from wicked-looking fangs that were three inches long.
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