More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds) Page 5

  “Drachon soldiers are going to help take down the facility and secure the victims here at Incog,” Forestor continued. “Everyone else will be given to the Drachon for sorting out.”

  Sorting out for Drachon meant bringing in their strongest telepaths and rooting through the minds of their enemies. Those not considered a threat would be released, but those who were deemed a threat to Drachon survival… Drachon didn’t take prisoners. They didn’t adhere to the rules of conduct set by the Arcane Alliance, the farce of a governing body that was supposed to balance the power of the Triumvirate. And Tag’s people sure as hell didn’t kneel down to the three ancient and corrupt witches. His people lived by their own laws. They were fair but far from merciful.

  “Taking that facility will require significant manpower. The Triumvirate monitors Incog. They’ll know what you’re planning the minute Drachon start arriving.” Vin cursed low and fervent, heaving to his feet. Tag moved in closer to intercept any threatening moves, but his brother only paced away from Forestor. “The guards will kill all the scientists in the complex before your people even get close enough to smell the blood.”

  This time Forestor did smile. “Drachon have been arriving since yesterday.”

  Tag spun on one heel to face Forestor. “What? Why didn’t I know of this?”

  “They’re being shimmered up to the eleventh floor from an undisclosed location outside of the city by Agent Sheridan. As you can see,” Forestor inclined his head toward Tag, “very few are aware of their presence.”

  “Fucking Kel,” Tag mumbled and dragged his hand over his buzzed hair. Agent Kel Sheridan was a crossbreed who could shimmer, an ability she did not hesitate to use to her advantage. She was a death wish wrapped in a pretty pixie coating that often had people underestimating her. The little brat was probably gloating at knowing something he didn’t.

  Vin shook his head as he paced. “This won’t work. Dr. Mahoney will be killed or relocated before we can reach her.”

  Tag’s attention arrowed back in on his brother. “Doc? What do you know that we don’t?”

  “She’s at the Death Valley Research Complex, what you refer to as GenTest. It’s the only complex the Triumvirate has on the West Coast that is conducting research Dr. Mahoney would prove valuable in.” Vin rubbed a hand down his left arm. “I’ll go there. They’ll be expecting me since it’s the most logical move on my part, and I can protect her during the raid.”

  “What?” Tag folded his arms over his chest. “Hell and no. You can’t be trusted.” A nasty suspicion surfaced. Vin showed up looking for the doc after she’d disappeared, and now he wanted them to let him get to her before they did. “How the hell do we know you’re not here because the Triumvirate already knows about the attack? You could be a danger to her.”

  A muscle ticked in Vin’s jaw, and a sharp pain ripped through Tag’s head without warning.

  Fuck no. His brother was not fingering up his thoughts. “Fuck off, Vin.” Tag wiped the trickle of blood from his face with the back of his hand.

  “Think, Tag. We’re two halves of one whole. My reaction to her would have been no different than yours.”

  “Bullshit,” Tag grunted. The metallic taste of his blood tainted his mouth, and he coughed. With a fury that had his dragon unfurling inside him, he sent his own thoughts spearing into his brother. “I’ll never let you take her.”

  Vin’s smile was sharp as he advanced a step. “There it is. That need to protect her. Even at sixteen she had me struggling with my daemos to resist it. I knew it would be the same for you. Why do you think I sent her here? Help me protect her. Let me help you.”

  The room around them flickered to shades of fire that warned Tag’s dragon was too close to the surface. Drachon hunting vision gave them the ability to see heat signatures even through walls. It made them unrivaled hunters. He blinked it back. “I don’t trust you.”

  Vin’s smile faded. “Fine. Don’t trust me, but trust what you feel. She’s our mate. I knew it from the moment I saw her. You did too. Trust that I would never, could never harm a mate.”

  Tag cursed, wiped his nose, and looked down at the blood on his hand before glaring at his brother. “If you even try to harm her, I’ll kill you, brother or no.”

  Chapter Five

  Hours later Vin walked slowly through the gate of the Death Valley Research Center. His skin prickled under the sheer magnitude of the weaponry currently trained on him. Despite the facility security being made up almost entirely of Guardians, each was armed with large-bore rifles. The kind used to take down an elephant, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  Under the focus of all that firepower, Vin let them herd him through the gleaming concrete halls of the research facility, and the thought occurred to him that he should be flattered. Their estimation of his physical prowess was sorely exaggerated, but better they believe he was some kind of beast than to have any idea how weak he actually was. Fear was more lethal than even the most powerful weapon if wielded properly. Despite the agreement Forestor had made with him, Vin wasn’t confident the army they were sending in would secure his freedom from this facility when they attacked it.

  Aside from Incog’s own agents, Drachon warriors made up a large part of the force taking the complex, and Vin’s defection to the enemy camp was a well-known offense among his kind. He was confident his rescue would not be high on their priority list, but he expected no less. He was accustomed to looking out for himself and knew it would be wise to accumulate any advantages he could find, should he need to make his own way out.

  Vin took note of each turn and curve, sharp for any and every nuance that might aid him later on. He noted the floor beneath his feet was slanted marginally, indicating they were likely descending into an underground level of the compound. A few discreet glances at the placement of the cameras—no blind spots. Each door they passed was steel with a security pad to the right of it. He’d thought the Triumvirate Citadel to be overly secure, but this facility was more like a military compound than a lab. That was more than a little disconcerting. What could possibly need this level of security on the inside?

  He and his armed entourage came to a stop in front of a large steel door similar to the others, and two of the Guardians turned to direct their weapons at him. He raised one eyebrow as he took in their braced stances, the tilt of their heads bent to the stocks of their rifles. They were going to make damn sure he didn’t attempt an escape…or, at least not alive.

  Lesser men might have found the sight of those barrels hovering in front of him ominous, but it elicited no more than a bit of morbid humor in Vin. He was a Drachon, a species of the Arcane that could hope for little more than living out their short lives. He had sacrificed even that when he’d made the fateful decision all those years ago to join forces with the Trust, a covert group that infiltrated all levels of both the Rebel and the Triumvirate infrastructures. Death meant nothing to him. It was no more than a stop on a path he’d chosen long ago. What meant something to him was the woman he knew to be within these walls. He would thwart even death to assure she was safe.

  As another Guardian pressed his hand on the security pad next to the door, Vin noted the security was biometric. He absently speculated on how long he had once the owner was dead to use their biometrics to get through the security. Was a pulse necessary to activate the sensor or just body heat? No guilt or remorse accompanied the thoughts, and as he watched the door slide open, he felt a foreign sense of discomfort at the absence of his morals. Had he gotten so far from his humanity that he no longer mourned the loss of human life? How many lives had he taken in the past two days? In the past, he hadn’t given much consideration to what he’d done in the name of survival. Why was he suffering from such introspection now? Was it the promise of seeing her again that made him measure his humanity?

  Vin mentally shook himself. Now was no time to search for elusive compassion—not when he would need to operate without it to free Dr. Mahoney.

  He follow
ed the Guardians into the room. A lab—no surprise there. He noticed the equipment was state-of-the-art as he stepped forward, not bothering to acknowledge the silent retreat of his guards or the hiss of the door shutting and locking. Moving deeper into the lab, he inspected the counters. Drawing in a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes and turned to study the lab closer.

  She had been here. Her scent was faint—old—maybe a day or two. As frail as the trace of her was, he still paced through the lab, drawing it in, savoring it. It had been years since he’d been this close to her. Years. A pulse of energy reverberated through him, expanding in his chest, burning down his arm. Inhaling another deep draught of her scent, he ran his hand down his right arm in an instinctual bid to ease his dragon. It rarely roused these days, and he preferred it that way. The spirit of his dragon was fire and instinct when what Vin needed was calculation and intelligence.

  As he slowly passed through, it didn’t appear as though any of the equipment had been used. Every surface was immaculate, the gleam of metal and glass begging for touch. His fingertips tingled with the draw. Science was his obsession; the siren’s call of the next great discovery had held him for so many years. Yet the blood that beat through his heart was Drachon. The call of his people had pulsed so much heavier in him. Until Dr. Mahoney.

  Vin stopped his advance at the back of the lab where a door lay open, and stared into the darkened room. A small living suite was attached to the lab. A large chair upholstered in deep red fabric was angled in one corner next to a tall chest of drawers. Against the opposite wall was a bed carefully draped in a thick brown-and-red comforter. Another door was ajar, and he could just make out the shine of tile on the floor. He didn’t cross the threshold because he scented the same faint thread of her essence in that room.

  Vin glanced back into the lab with a frown.

  Dr. Mahoney had been held in this unit but had never touched any of the equipment. What then had she done in here? Why was she no longer here? It was her brilliant mind, her incomparable ability to process genetics that made her so valuable to the Triumvirate, and this lab was obviously as cutting edge as it could get. Why move her?

  Vin turned and walked slowly back through the lab, inspecting it with a more precise eye. The far wall was dark but glossy with a mirrored surface. Obviously masking an observation deck. Casting a considering glance at the cameras on the ceiling, he circled the lab counter and approached that wall. A stool was turned over on the floor. He crouched down and laid his hand on a cool metal rung, glaring up at that glossy wall.

  She’d been forcefully removed from the room.

  “Where is she?” Vin demanded coolly, his gaze focused on that wall. They’d escorted him straight to this room, and he knew he was being watched. Someone was watching him.

  There was a muted click, and the wall flooded with light, offering a clear view into an adjacent lab that sat several feet higher. A man stood in that room, draped in a white lab coat, arms crossed over his chest. The eyes behind the silver rims of his glasses were dark and small as he stared down his nose at Vin. They were beady, soulless. His thin, frayed hair was pulled back and held at the nape of his neck. A pleased, oily smile curved his tiny mouth.

  Vin was grateful the thick wall separated them so he was spared a deeper appraisal of the man. Sometimes being a strong telepath was…unsettling.

  “Dr. Vincent Jennings,” The man’s voice was reedy, weak. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve studied much of your work. Brilliant if still a bit obstructed by morality.”

  That was telling.

  “Where is Dr. Mahoney?” Vin asked calmly, ignoring the praise.

  The man’s smile held firm, those tiny black eyes fixed on Vin. “My name is Dr. Anthony Rupple. I was only just informed I was to expect you, but am thrilled to have you join me here. I think together the three of us could push this research to the next level.”

  Vin rose to his feet, the stool clutched in his hand. The greasy doctor stepped back from the glass, and Vin savored the satisfaction he felt from the reaction. With a slight smile of his own, he carefully righted the stool and sat on the edge. He extended his long legs and crossed them at the ankles, hands carefully folded in his lap. He didn’t want to appear too aggressive.

  “I’ve yet to hear what I want, Dr. Rupple.”

  The man frowned and folded his arms over his scrawny chest again. “Dr. Mahoney was being very unreasonable. I thought perhaps a couple of nights in less comfortable accommodations would change her outlook. She wasn’t seriously injured.”

  Dr. Rupple’s hesitation over the last word did not sit well with Vin. “I want her returned immediately, Dr. Rupple. I myself can become very…unreasonable.”

  Dr. Rupple angled his chin up but gave a terse nod. “Of course, Dr. Jennings.” He looked off to his right and spoke to someone Vin couldn’t see. “I apologize for the limited quarters, but we were equipped with only one lab that could accommodate the necessary security measures. You shall have to share with Dr. Mahoney. I hope that will not be a problem.”

  Vin narrowed his focus to a sharp point on the doctor. That last bit betrayed an almost indistinguishable trace of sarcasm. Over ten years ago, he’d tipped his hand where Dr. Mahoney was concerned. It didn’t take a high level of deductive skills to know that the redheaded doctor made him vulnerable. He had traded his freedom and integrity when he’d made the deal for her release. It wasn’t too much of a leap to expect this doctor would know of it. Especially if he worked for the Triumvirate.

  When it was obvious Vin had no intention of responding, Dr. Rupple continued on, a smirk playing on his thin lips. “I will, of course, see that you are provided with fresh clothes and other personal items. As for your…unique needs, please let me know when your need for solar radiation becomes pressing. We will do our best to assist you.”

  “I will need to review the files for your current project to bring myself up to speed,” Vin stated coldly. He wasn’t exactly sure what kind of research Dr. Rupple was conducting at this facility, but the pathetic doctor seemed to think Vin was there to assist him. Although Vin’s main objective was to have Dr. Mahoney with him so he could protect her during the attack, he was curious to discover what exactly was being done here.

  Dr. Rupple nodded. “Of course, all the files you need access to are on the lab computers.”

  Vin had already noted the location of the monitors, so he kept his attention on the greasy doctor. Even though Vin was several feet below and locked in a secure room, Rupple appeared to be intimidated by him. He wanted to keep the doctor pinned down. Whether it stemmed from the doctor’s assessment of his research or the doctor’s awareness of what he was physically capable of, he wasn’t sure. All Vin knew was he needed to maintain that without pushing the man into outright fear, which might motivate Rupple into more extreme measures of security. A very thin line to walk. Fortunately, Vin was very well practiced.

  Twenty years of practice.

  “As Dr. Mahoney is aware,” Dr. Rupple began as he paced in front of the window, “we are in the midst of some exciting research. For the past several years, I’ve been collecting…unique subjects for a very special project. The objective has been to introduce a specific genetic sequence which has thus far proved more difficult than was initially assumed, I’m afraid.”

  Dr. Rupple picked up a stack of papers and frowned down at them before casting them back onto the table with a disgusted shake of his head. “You and Dr. Mahoney are going to change that.”

  Vin carefully controlled his reaction. Genetic manipulation. He shouldn’t be surprised. This facility was run indirectly by the Triumvirate, and there was only one goal those bitches had concerning genetics: infecting the few remaining unaffected Arcane with their corrosive blood magic. The Triumvirate had cast the magic five hundred years ago, and it somehow became inheritable, allowing them to continue to siphon off future generation. It was why they needed Dr. Mahoney. She was the first to identify the gene that caused the bloo
d-magic phenomena—the ARSA gene. Thus the ARSA Project was created, but like most brilliant scientists, she was unprepared for the ramification of her discovery.

  “Perhaps you can better persuade Dr. Mahoney to participate in this project.” Dr. Rupple’s face dissolved into an ugly expression of hatred and determination. “She’s the only one who could possibly have the information we need to move forward, and she’s willfully withholding that information.”

  Vin nodded in a mimicry of agreement as he considered what Dr. Rupple revealed. Dr. Mahoney might have discovered the gene, but ten years ago she’d refused to synthesize it. As part of the agreement to release her, he’d picked up where she’d left off. He’d been able to synthesize the gene as well as administer it, but he’d been unable to activate it.

  Despite his failures, he had learned a lot about the ARSA gene itself. Over the last several generations, the gene had mutated, somehow affecting other healthy genes. Those who inherited the ARSA gene suffered from a lack of longevity, decreased sensory and motor skills, and in many cases the advent of disabling and often life-threatening genetic diseases. How many labs outside of the one he’d been held in knew about the gene—or worse—were working on it? How much progress had they made that he was unaware of?

  It couldn’t be too much if they’d reacquired Dr. Mahoney to work on it. She’d spent the past ten years working at Incog as their premier doctor for the crossbreed agents. What could she possibly have had access to that would prove valuable to this research?

  “Ah, here comes our stubborn doctor now,” Dr. Rupple said slowly.

  The dull click of the locks disengaging on Vin’s door drew his attention, but the razor-sharp glint in Dr. Rupple’s eyes made him pause and carefully tuck away the potent anticipation that spiked through his system. The doctor was too keen on his reaction, and Vin thought perhaps he had underestimated the man. He’d been too eager to disregard Dr. Rupple’s threat, but Vin now suspected the man was manipulating him. He held the doctor’s intent gaze as the door hissed open behind him, and the muffled sounds of someone being shoved inside filled the space.