The Dream Travelers Boxed Set #2: Includes 2 Complete Series (9 Books) PLUS Bonus Material

by Sarah Noffke

  I take a deep breath and consider staying here longer than I need to. It’s peaceful and about as cozy as the Institute with its metal walls. Also there are no jack fruits annoying me with their ideas and free flowing thoughts. It’s just me for a change, which is nice.

  Leaning back against the cool metal, I close my eyes. I guess I could have allowed Addy to accompany me on this excursion, but I’m not sure it would have taught her anything. She really has to learn to do things on her own and taking field trips with dear old dad is definitely not teaching her that.

  And also she needs to learn patience. Things don’t happen when we want them to happen. They do when we’re ready, not the other way around. She’s already bypassed training faster than usual thanks to Trent’s lackadaisical training methods. I keep telling him to follow protocol and he keeps stating that I only like it because the protocol is mine.

  Duh…dude.

  I open my eyes, unable to relax with the idea that the six hostages are running out of air on the other side of the steel door. My consciousness always spoils everything.

  Oh, Middlings always ruin my respite with their life threatening situations and dying. I let out a breath and pull out the chalk that Aiden had given me.

  I have to give it to him, it’s a very clever device. I like that it doesn’t make noise, have a scent or really draw any attention to itself. Too bad I can’t tell him that. Then he’d just be more repugnant the next time I see him. No, the best way to deal with types like him is to act unimpressed. They’ll continue to reach, hopefully while not being as loud and then everyone will be better off.

  I draw a large rectangle, mirroring the shape of a door. It should be large enough for six normal sized adults to fit through. If there are any people who have eaten too many second servings at dinner then they’ll have to stay put.

  That’s the rule and I can’t change it, I think as I toss the chalk back into my pocket.

  I pull the small black device from my other pocket, immediately wondering how it’s supposed to fit onto the slick wall in front of me. I turn it over several times in my hands, but its seamless. There’s no way to attach it. No sticky side. No nothing out of the ordinary.

  Deciding that I’ll give it a go, I slip the small black device out of my jacket pocket and place it in the middle of the rectangle that I’ve drawn. When I pull my hand away, I’m slightly amazed to find it sticks into place. I keep my hand hovering there, just in case it falls to the ground. However, four robotic legs appear out of unseen slots and stick onto the surface.

  It’s fucking science and not at all as exciting as if it happened by magic. Still, I have to give Dr. Monkey Ass credit. It’s sort of smart. Kind of.

  Once the legs stick into place, the device sinks deeper into the steel door, like it’s made of putty and not pure metal. Then the light show starts, just as Aiden described. It isn’t bright or noticeable. There is no smell or noise. Actually, most wouldn’t have even noticed it unless made aware.

  I noticed it though, because I’m not a blindness idiot who glosses over important details in my environment. When the light fades away, at exactly the moment that the path of the chalk line is completed, I step closer. I’m not sure what happens next. I walked out of Aiden’s lab before I could get further details, but they probably would have only melted my brain.

  I press my hand to the space beside the black device and suck in a breath. My fingers knock the large plate of steel a tiny degree. It’s enough to widen my eyes and make me realize the implications. The doorway has been cut fully. All I have to do is displace this piece of metal and the hostages inside will be free. They’ll have fresh air. They can move on with their meaningless lives where they eat too many overly manufactured foods and put too much waste into the world. But they will be free. And so will I. Then I can return to my home in Malibu and lie in my armchair doing nothing. Or…I can return to the Institute and find things that are meaningful to do with my time.

  I’m just about to knock the piece of metal out of place when I freeze. I can’t get over the feeling that this is too easy. Too well coordinated. I’ve never been one to be paranoid, but right now, in this perfect moment with the luxury of free time on the horizon, I sort of feel like it.

  I shake off that feeling and press my hand straight into the metal. It falls back with one swift movement, bringing a wave of light and odd smells.

  Footsteps are the first thing I hear. Then a guy pokes his head through the opening. He isn’t young, but he isn’t old. About thirtyish with soft brown eyes and a relieved expression.

  “We did it!” he says, a wide smile on his face.

  I shake my head. “I don’t believe you did a damn thing. But you’re very welcome.”

  Another head pokes through. She’s a woman with cornrows and a toothy grin. “I knew we’d guessed all those clues right.”

  I draw in a breath, straightening to a standing position. They must have been without oxygen for longer than I thought. “What do you mean by clues?” I ask.

  “Oh, man,” a short guy calls, jumping out at once. He rings my hand and I immediately know all his darkest secrets. The thoughts I didn’t even want to know he had. It’s horrible. I’ll need therapy after reading his thoughts. He’s to blame although he didn’t realize that I have telepathy linked to touch. I should have a warning plastered across my head that says, “Don’t touch me unless you want me to puke.” Still, I’ve found that most will still accost me because they like causing me pain and also spilling their inner most thoughts. It’s like confession, except that I don’t get to take advantage of them afterwards. Well, I could…but I don’t…usually.

  “That was way cooler than they said it would be,” the short guy says.

  “Who said it would be?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the buffoon.

  More people spill out of the open vault, none of them appearing as distressed as most hostages I’ve seen. Actually they are wearing delighted grins like they just got off of a dumb amusement park ride.

  “The guy,” the short fella says. “The one who hired us.”

  My hand instinctively reaches for my mobile telephone in my pocket but I pause before continuing. “Hiring you? Who hired you? For what?”

  The guy, who might be related to Aiden, laughs. “Oh, come on. Don’t you work for the same Escape Room company?”

  I narrow my eyes at the guy, considering if I should kill him now or wait. “I don’t work for an Escape Room company. I just saved you from death.”

  “What are you talking about?” the first guy chimes in. “It was just a puzzle. And we figured it out, but not a moment too soon.”

  “Who put you in that room?” I ask the tallest guy, knowing that talking to short people is a waste of my time. They misunderstand things for so many different reasons, but mostly because they are underdeveloped.

  “The guy,” he answers. He snaps his fingers. “What did he call himself? The captor? Yeah, that was it. The captor. And he said to finish our challenge, we had to tell our rescuer something. Sally, you remember what it was?”

  The girl from before comes forward. “Of course I do. He said, tell our rescuer, ‘I thought about taking you down too, but I have better plans for you. And I figured watching your precious Institute burn would be the best punishment until I can finish you myself…’ Or it was something like that.” She laughed excitedly, but I’m already dialing.

  This has been a trick. The worst trick in the world. And now it’s starting to click into place in the worst possible way. If what I think it happening then we’re all doomed, starting with the Lucidite Institute, which means we’ll all be dead soon.

  Chapter Seven

  Trey doesn’t pick up when I call. That’s typical. He never does.

  I then try Trent, Shuman, Aiden. I even try Roya because I’m a glutton for punishment. None of them answer.

  I’m desperate, my hands shaking when I try my last resort.

  “Da
d!” Addy yells into the phone.

  I pull it away from my ear with a sneer. “What have I said about calling me that?”

  “Dad, there’s an attack happening on the Institute,” Addy says, her tone elevated. “It’s horrible. I don’t know how they got in.”

  “Who?” I yell in a hurry.

  “I don’t know,” she answers. “They’ve blocked all our ways out.”

  “How?” I ask again.

  “We can’t get to the GAD-Cs,” she says. “We can’t even dream travel. There’s some sort of force field. It’s so strange. I’m locked in the Strategic department.”

  “Look around,” I encourage. “What do you see?”

  “Smoke,” she says. “Lots of it. And water spraying in from the walls. It’s horrible. We’ve lost a lot.”

  My heart aches as it sinks into my stomach. It was a trick. But why? Who wanted me away? Who wanted to attack the Institute?

  Then like a bunch of building blocks, it all fits together. Middling Corp, my past cases, the Institute, the hostage’s message.

  “I figured watching your precious Institute burn would be the best punishment until I can finish you myself.”

  Yen Tang.

  I know him now. I’d stopped him once. When he was less powerful. Less of a threat. But now. He’s figured out how to attack the ones he hates the most: Dream Travelers. And he’s come after the one who put him away originally: Me.

  I knew him as Andy Chang. A murderer. A criminal. A destroyer. And he made me one promise when I put him away:

  “I’m not done,” he had said from the other side of the bar. “I’ll come back and destroy your precious Institute, the Dream Travelers who pretend they own this world and more importantly, you.”

  I end the call without saying goodbye to Addy, grinding my teeth together.

  Yen Chang thought he could go after my home and win. But he was wrong. There are few things that I’ll die to protect and the Lucidite Institute and the people who live there are one. My daughter might be a pain in the ass, but she’s my daughter and there’s no way she’s dying while I still have the breath in my lungs to fight to protect her.

  To continue this story, preorder the Dream Traveler Apocalypse full novel here.

  To be released September 1st.

  Genetically Altered: MADE TO KILL, Book #1

  Prologue

  Obsidian eyes snapped open to drink in the dark. Outside the lab, everything was black but for a crescent moon that hung in the starry sky.

  “No!” the man who was not quite human growled, pulling his eyes from the window. “Not again!”

  And then the change began.

  Rio held up his hand, and since his night vision had rapidly returned he spied it. The mutation. Sharp fibers slipped through the pores of his hands and arms. Hair as black as his eyes and cutting to the touch stopped growing after two inches. And then the claws pierced the ends of his fingers, but he looked away from them, disgusted by how his hands changed.

  A scream that sounded more like a howl ripped from his mouth, and his canines suddenly tripled in size. Boiling with an anger he once only knew on the force, Rio pulled back his arm and launched it through the concrete wall that had imprisoned him for months now. Before, when he’d assaulted the wall—his only companion in this cell—it just stood untouched. Now his clawed fists rocketed through the one-foot-thick concrete until it was free on the other side. Surprised, he pulled his arm back to peer through the hole, which was the size of a soccer ball.

  Staring at him with glowing gray eyes was the man he’d only spoken to, never seen. For how long had they heard one another howl in misery after the treatments? But now Rio’s neighbor stared back at him, his own changed face drooling with the hunger. The change was always accompanied by the unstoppable hunger. Zephyr’s ravenous expression turned into one of awe for an instant, as though the reality before him momentarily blanketed the quenching desire.

  “Did you just do that?” the man who appeared more like a wolf said. Zephyr’s hair was prematurely silver, his face long and covered in stubble.

  Rio’s way of answering was through proving. Proving that he hadn’t lost his mind. And he needed to know for certain that the wall hadn’t just given way due to his repeated attempts at battering it. He needed to know that it was the strength within him that had created the damage to the wall. Again, he pulled his arm back, like a slingshot about to be unleashed. And then he sped it forward into the wall and through the dense rock. With his hand on the other side he towed it up, tearing the concrete above it in two, making a huge hole with the single movement.

  Howls echoed from the other cells. A result of the change. A result of hearing the destruction happening nearby. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Rio realized that the staff on duty had been alerted to this disturbance. Approaching footsteps echoed off the slab floors.

  “Hurry,” he said, backing up and making way for Zephyr to get through. Since he was smaller in build than Rio, he was easily able to negotiate through the almost man-made hole. And he was the same size he was when not a werewolf. The change made his features sharper, but other than the fangs and claws, his body didn’t drastically change in size. These were subtle werewolves, not giant beasts that had their clothes burst off when mutated. Zephyr’s extra speed while in this state also assisted him in the task of getting through the hole easily.

  “Can you?” Zephyr said, nodding at the row of bars in front of them. The locked gate, which had imprisoned Rio for so long, stood challenging him like always.

  “I can damn near try,” he said, his Spanish accent flaring in his words. As a werewolf, or whatever they’d made him, he was stronger and had better vision, smell, and hearing. He could jump higher and with greater endurance. However, he hadn’t been strong enough before to break through concrete. Something was changing in him. Looking out the metal bars, he saw the hungry, irate eyes of his imprisoned companions of the last few months. Something was changing in all of them, but not the same thing. They were growing in different ways, like a pack with unique capabilities.

  His hands, now covered in fur, wrapped around the bars. Then he made the intention and his muscles followed suit. Rio ripped both his arms toward his chest and the metal squeaked as it bent. The cage door cried its complaints as it was pulled from its hinges. Then it burst completely off and Rio threw it at the poor excuse of a bed he’d been forced to lie in for all these months.

  Zephyr was the first through the open doorway, always the one talking about getting free. And now they were, but the eyes of so many stared back at them, behind their own imprisoned doors.

  “You free them with whatever it is you can now do,” Zephyr yelled. “I’ll find keys.”

  The footsteps of the security guards or scientists or whoever had been approaching had faded. Maybe they were grabbing reinforcements. These men didn’t have time to worry about that. Zephyr knew that they had to get out while they had a chance. And he wouldn’t leave anyone behind.

  Rattling metal and loud explosions of relief were the soundtrack in the background as Zephyr yanked drawer after drawer out of the cabinets lining the far wall. This was where the scientists always went first before going to release one of the prisoners. And then a clanging sound, one he’d come to associate with the moment before the treatments, met his ears, which were pinned up higher than usual on his head. He grabbed the keys and turned to greet a rough assault. A rent-a-cop stood in front of him, and, almost like he’d been waiting for him to turn around, he rammed the butt of his gun into Zephyr’s face just as he spun for the cages. His jaw split open at once, but that didn’t stop the beast inside of him from tearing forward. He leapt across the short distance, his open mouth seeking the clear exposed skin of the security agent’s throat. And when his teeth sunk through the flesh and tasted the warm blood inside he let out a soft growl. Above him he was conscious that other agents stood watching, unaware how to respond. They had been t
old not to harm the “experiments” and were obviously unprepared for an emergency like this.

  Around them, men changed by drugs and science were springing from their cages. All of them hungry, but their inhibitions sequestered for the night.

  Then overhead the alarm sounded. The one that would bring more security. More problems.

  “Come on,” Rio yelled through the chaos. “We’ve got to go!”

  Zephyr pulled up from his feast to spy the sight around him. He’d momentarily forgotten where he was, so drunk from the experience his body craved. Warm flesh.

  “Come on,” Rio screamed again, waving Zephyr away from where he was perched, closest to the main doors. Then the man Zephyr didn’t know well, the one who had freed him, slammed both fists through a concrete wall until the night on the other side made its presence known. The men, all changed by the genes from the wolf blood they’d had spliced into their DNA, spilled out into the open air, into the outside where freedom was a real possibility. Zephyr pulled his sleeve across his blood-drenched mouth and sprang forward, making it through the space and out into the night in less time than humanly possible.

  Sirens rang overhead, making the already deranged pack crazy with dread. They couldn’t be captured. They couldn’t go back to that lab.

  “Move,” Zephyr yelled, and it was that one command that sent the pack scurrying in different directions. Each wolf took his own route toward safety. Some scaled the nearby buildings. Some escaped through the adjacent alley. And some ran straight for the streets. All were too fast for the approaching security and none of them would be caught tonight.

  But in the lab, a prisoner stirred from his sleep that felt too real to be a dream. He’d heard commotion, but it made itself a part of the nightmare playing in his head. Now he stared out at the locked gate in front of him and at the empty lab, devoid of the other eleven men he was used to having around him. Like a lone wolf, separated from the pack, Connor had been abandoned.