“I’m waiting, Ms. Su.” He paused.
“I don’t want to die, Mr. White,” Kim said.
“We might be able to negotiate an alternative.” He smiled. “Shall we come up? Or will you come to us?”
Kim stared at her, frantic. Ellen nodded.
“I’m on my way,” Kim mumbled.
Cyrus hung up.
“Follow me,” Ellen said, all but dragging her to the lab. She pulled the one vial of untainted blood open and poured it on Kim’s hand and arm.
“What are you doing?” Kim asked, trying to pull away.
“He needs to drink the blood as soon as possible.” She explained, pressing the other vials into her hand. “The smell should be enough. Even if he only drinks one, it should be enough. I’ll follow you down, Kim. I’ll be right behind you.”
“But your baby,” Kim said, staring at her stomach. “Dr. Robbins—”
“Can’t turn—can’t become what Cyrus and those men are.” Her mind sifted through the possibilities, but she had no other options. She fired off a quick text to Finn, pleading with him to come straight here, then faced Kim. “Hollis has a heart murmur that prevents him from being…what he is.” As much as it pained her to admit it, if Hollis was able to shift, he would have done it by now. “I can’t lose him. I won’t.” She pulled Kim toward the elevator. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She waited for the elevator doors to shut before she typed in the code on the vault. The voices greeted her, soothing her wolf and her rage. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in emotion tonight. A quick search turned up two lethal-looking amputation knives, an old scalpel, and the silver dagger kept in the vault for safekeeping.
It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. Her wolf gave up resisting. She was trapped inside—she might as well give Ellen her strength, her speed, and her fight.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hollis was losing his mind. Fists punched, feet kicked, and one solid blow to the back of his head seemed to knock everything lose. Bones snapped. His ribs. One lung was filling with blood—and making breathing difficult. And his wolf waited for more.
Somewhere behind the pain, a red-hot fury was brewing. His vision shifted, flickering red until his eye sockets felt singed. His hands gripped the chair, nails piercing the fake leather cover and bending the metal beneath.
How he ended up here was a blur. He’d gone to the basement, shoving a duffel bag full of their latest in weaponry, then headed back to the elevator. He’d grabbed a smaller gun, turning it over in his hand. He’d tested it. It was deceptively small for the punch it packed. He shoved a clip into his pocket, the gun into the waistband of his pants, and smoothed his shirt and his lab coat over it. His wolf hadn’t wanted to take the elevator. That was the first alarm.
He’d pulled his phone from his pocket and texted Finn. They wouldn’t need to go to Kim’s to find the Others. His wolf assured him they were already here.
Fuck. He took the stairs, pressing himself flat against the wall as he navigated each turn up to the warehouse. If he sensed them, they probably already knew he was here. There was no fucking way he was going to lead them to Ellen.
He pulled the gun out and pushed through the doors. The night techs, men who had been on his payroll for years, were stacked inside the office. Bodies pale and blood-spattered, they’d had their throats ripped out. In the time it had taken for him to realize that, he’d been clubbed on the
back of the head and kicked in the chest.
Now he was taped to a fucking chair. And a fucking Other had his gun. Not that Hollis cared at the moment. Cyrus was watching him. Closely, those near-colorless eyes blank and empty. Whatever semblance of a soul this man—this creature—once had was long gone. In its place was evil.
Cyrus smiled as he pulled a long, skinny knife from the shoulder holster beneath his jacket. “You’re the brains, aren’t you? Dr. Hollis Robbins. I’ve read papers about you. Noble. Sacrificing. Hoping to save the world?” He shook his head.
“Pathetic. Considering you can’t even save yourself, can you?” He leaned forward, sniffing his head and face. “I won’t waste any silver on you,” he said, sliding the knife into Hollis’s chest—inches from his heart. His wolf growled, thrashing to be free. Cyrus waited, watching. “No wolf?” With a sigh, he stepped back and waved the two Others forward. “We’ll see what it takes to pull him out.”
Hollis almost laughed then.
Until they went to work on him. Broken nose. The spurt of hot blood on his cheeks and crunch of cartilage was proof. The knife. Pulled free. Then buried in his thigh. His shoulder. Pinning one hand to his chair. His wolf welcomed the pain, drowning in it, using it to truly wake his senses and form.
The ding of the elevator ended the assault on his body.
Even his wolf froze, terrified at what was waiting on the other side of the elevator doors. The sight of Kim, small and trembling, was a huge relief. And horrible.
“Ms. Su?” Cyrus stepped forward, wiping the blood from his knuckles with a pristine white handkerchief. “How delightful to meet you.”
Hollis stiffened at Ellen’s scent. On Kim. Her blood stained the woman’s hands.