by Skye Malone
“They’ll kill you,” Noah argued.
She shook her head. “Grandpa will stop them. If he’s in there, he’ll stop them.”
“He’ll stop you too,” I protested.
“I can get Zeke,” she insisted.
I stared at her. I hardly knew her, and she wanted me to trust her with Zeke’s life? Sure, she’d helped me, but when it came to him…
There wasn’t a choice. We were running out of time.
“Fine,” I managed. “Just be careful.”
Ellie nodded.
“Stay here,” Noah said to Baylie. “Watch for us and, if Chloe’s parents show up, do your best to keep them out of the way. We’ll be back as soon as possible and we’ll need to leave fast.”
She grimaced, but made a grudging noise of agreement.
He glanced to me. “Run. Try to lose them in the fields if you can. And then circle back. We should have Zeke by then, so come meet us at the car and we’ll get out of here. Alright?”
I swallowed. It sounded a lot like a best-case scenario. I just hoped it worked. “Yeah.”
He climbed from the car. I followed, my legs quivering unsteadily for a moment before consenting to hold me.
We started toward the warehouse. Wind carried over the fields around us, along with a beeping noise from a distant semi reversing near the silos. Several dozen cars filled the parking lots next to the square buildings of the main complex, and as we walked over the crabgrass and dirt, a train rumbled along the track, heading for the silos as well.
The place wasn’t abandoned or isolated by any stretch of the imagination. It seemed a strange location for a secret lab.
But that could turn out to be a good thing. Maybe, if Noah’s family tried to come after us, the fact there were others around would keep them from killing anyone.
My stomach turning flip-flops, I kept pace with Noah. Ellie stayed near me, radiating nervous energy and trying to look in every direction at once.
We drew closer to the warehouse.
The door creaked as it swung ponderously open. I stopped and Noah did too. With a tiny whimper, Ellie froze.
No one came out. Nothing moved.
I glanced to Noah.
“Bait,” he mouthed.
I nodded.
Heart pounding, I scanned the fields. There wasn’t anything to do. We had to keep going.
Trembling with adrenaline, I followed him toward the door. My skin shivered with the desire to let my spikes grow and the world sharpened as my eyes changed of their own accord. I could see hairline fissures slipping along Noah’s arms, appearing like threads of lightning and then vanishing almost as quickly, while a red glow flecked the green of his eyes.
A burly young man stepped outside. Well above six feet tall, with the build of a football player on every steroid known to God or man, he smirked at us as he crossed his arms, making his biceps bulge.
“Hey there, cuz,” he drawled.
Noah ignored him, checking the area quickly.
“What? No hello? Thought you’d want to finally introduce me to your little friend.”
The guy’s gaze went to me, and his eyes grated down me like he could see straight through my clothes.
I tensed, pulling back involuntarily.
A snarl twitched his face, buried so fast it looked like a muscle spasm, and a shiver ran through him. “Name’s Wyatt,” he managed, a growl coming into his voice. “Been looking forward to getting my hands on you, pretty.”
Footsteps crunched on the gravel of the parking lot.
Two more guys, obviously his brothers, emerged from either side of the warehouse.
“Chloe,” Noah said carefully.
I glanced to him.
Noah didn’t look away from his cousins. Cracks spread through his arms and face, unrestrained now, and his eyes went red. “Run.”
He lunged at Wyatt.
I spun and took off.
The nearest cousin shouted and scrambled after me, his hands swiping the air as I passed. Adrenaline flooded me, prickling through my skin and setting my heart racing. The gravel parking lot fell away, and then the road. Grass flashed by beneath my feet while in my ears, the wind rushed like the ocean.
I threw a look over my shoulder.
They were still coming. I couldn’t see Ellie anywhere. Noah was struggling with Wyatt, but as I watched, Wyatt shoved him hard to the side, trying to break Noah’s hold to join the chase.
And the others were gaining.
Fighting for more speed, I ran for the silos.
Chapter Nineteen
Zeke
Voices carried from beyond the walls of the warehouse, and I strained to hear if Chloe was among them. On the other side of the room, Richard stood motionless by the door while Harman fidgeted next to the long, steel table. Behind me, Brock twitched as he fought to stay still, his eyes already glowing and fissures permeating his skin.
Someone outside shouted.
Richard swore. “Stay here!” he snapped at Brock as he ripped open the door.
He raced from the room.
I looked from Brock to Harman, and then yanked at the restraints.
The one on my left wrist gave enough to let my hand slip by, while the bar on my feet popped free of the table entirely. Rolling to the side, I shoved hard at the metal holding my other wrist.
Brock made a furious noise. His footsteps thudded toward me.
Something beneath the table snapped. The restraint gave away.
I scrambled aside just as his fist slammed down where I’d been.
“You scale-skin bastard,” Brock growled. “Get back here.”
Casting quick glances from him to Harman, I retreated as my few remaining spikes emerged to stand out on my arms. Adrenaline couldn’t fully drown the burning pain in my muscles, or stop the way my body was shaking. My legs were so wobbly, they felt like they’d change at any moment, becoming a tail that’d get me killed.
Brock stalked toward me, his face a tangle of glowing cracks extending from eyes that were nothing but impossibly red fire.
“I am going to gut you,” he snarled, “you disgusting little–”
He charged.
I tumbled to the side, narrowly avoiding stabbing myself with my spikes as I hit the floor. Skidding on the concrete, Brock spun and then lunged at me again.
Frantic, I rolled and scrambled for my feet.
His hands caught my back and shoved me. Harman stumbled away with a panicked shout as I crashed to the ground only inches from the table and his research. Ignoring him, I rolled again, trying to spot Brock before he could grab me.
My gaze caught on the underside of the table and suddenly, I realized what Harman had been holding onto this entire time.
A gun.
An enormous, double-barreled shotgun.
Lunging up, I snagged the weapon and ripped it from the straps holding it to the table. Brock’s red eyes went wide at the sight, and with a roar, he rushed at me again.
I swung the gun around, notched it to my shoulder fast as I could, and then pulled the trigger.
The recoil nearly took my arm off.
Brock stopped a few feet from me, alarm spreading across his face. My ears rang from the blast, but I didn’t look away from him as he stumbled.
His fiery eyes blinked. Dark blood spread across the chest of his tight t-shirt.
He crumpled to his knees and then toppled sideways to the ground.
Shaking, I clutched the edge of the table and tugged myself upright on legs that still felt like they wanted to change.
Harman stood motionless, staring at me with his arms frozen in mid-reach for the jars and papers still scattered on the table.
A shiver ran through me. My grip tightened on the gun.
The door on the far side of the room burst open. Harman’s granddaughter raced in.
She skidded to a stop, her eyes going wide at the sight of me an
d the shotgun.
“E-Ellie, what are you–” Harman stammered. “Get out of here, girl! He’ll–”
“Please,” she interrupted him, lifting her hands as if to show she had no weapons. Her gaze darted from my legs to the jars on the tabletop, and she swallowed hard. “Please, I-I’m sorry. Please hear me. I’m so sorry for what he did.”
My brow drew down.
“Please don’t shoot him,” she begged.
“Ellie, get out of here,” Harman urged.
My hand twitched on the gun.
“Please!” Ellie cried. She took a breath and inched a step closer. “Please, Zeke. It’s Zeke, right? Just… please. I’m here to help. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m only here to help.”
She came another step into the room.
“Don’t let him near you, girl!” Harman cried. “They just need to touch you and then you’ll be–”
“Grandpa, shut up!” she shouted, not looking away from me. A choked noise escaped her. “Just… shut up.” She swallowed hard again. “Zeke, Chloe’s out there. The greliarans are going after her and that…” her gaze flicked to the gun, “that could stop them.”
“Where?” I demanded.
She nodded toward the door behind her. “This way.”
I glanced to Harman, trembling. I didn’t know what I wanted to do to him. Something. Anything.
So much I didn’t know where to begin.
“Please,” Ellie implored.
My gaze twitched back to her. Letting out an unsteady breath, I headed for the door.
Harman made a panicked sound. “Eleanor, get back! You don’t–”
“How could you, Grandpa? How?”
She retreated hastily as I came near, terror flashing through her light brown eyes, though the expression turned to pain again when she looked back to her grandfather.
I ignored it all. My hand gripping the gun and my body still trembling with the urge to use it, I walked out of the room.
Chapter Twenty
Noah
I heard Chloe take off to my right while Ellie bolted for the side of the warehouse to my left, and despite everything, I was grateful. These damn greliaran instincts were screaming for me to kill everything in reach, and the girls were a distraction I didn’t need right now.
Because if a gorilla ever existed in quasi-human form, it was my cousin.
My hands gripped Wyatt’s shoulders and my feet dug into the gravel as I tried to drive him backward. He twisted in my grasp, attempting to use my own force to throw me. I shifted my balance to stay upright, and then adjusted a second time as he tried again.
He snarled. Chloe was getting farther away. He wanted to join the chase.
Something slammed into me from the side. I hit the gravel and rolled, coming back up fast and looking around for whatever had just barreled into me.
Uncle Richard stood where we’d been. Flecks of red light glowed in his eyes. Cracks no wider than pencil lead twisted along his arms.
And that was it. He’d knocked me down, and he’d barely even changed yet.
I made myself keep breathing. Against Wyatt, I’d stood a chance.
Richard was another story entirely.
“Wyatt, go,” Richard ordered.
His son scrambled to his feet and took off after Chloe. Richard twitched to the side, blocking me when I moved to follow.
Heart pounding, I stopped, my gaze flicking from him to my cousins and back.
“You really want to do this, Noah?” he threatened. “My boys are going to tear that girl apart either way.”
A growl slipped from me.
His lip curled as his skin changed. I tensed, knowing what was coming.
He charged.
I braced myself as his shoulder hit me like a battering ram, driving me backward to the ground. Twisting, I avoided his fist as it slammed down where my head had been. I punched at him, succeeding in knocking his head to the side.
But nothing more.
He snarled.
His fist landed hard. Stars scattered across my vision. I swung again blindly, hitting his midsection, though it made less difference than if I’d hit a wall.
“Disgrace,” Richard spat. “You’re just a fucking–”
A gunshot inside the warehouse cut him off.
He shoved away from me. Rolling to the side, I coughed and spit blood onto the gravel.
My ears were ringing, but I could just make out the sound of Ellie’s voice, though her actual words were a garble over the noise in my head. Richard heard her though. I could tell from the rage on his face.
I thought he’d looked mad at me.
I’d never seen anything like his expression now.
He took off around the corner of the warehouse, and the door that must have been beyond it.
I shoved up from the gravel and went after him.
He heard me coming, and before I could reach him, he spun, grabbing after me. Ducking fast, I evaded his grasp and then punched hard at his side. He tensed, taking the blow, and his fist came back like a jackhammer into my ribs.
I stumbled.
With a furious noise, he thrust me aside and turned for the warehouse again.
And then he froze.
I looked over.
Several yards away, Zeke stood, his eyes on Richard and a shotgun in his hands. Large bandages dotted his legs randomly and burns scarred his sides, and even from this distance I could see him shaking. Ellie hovered a few feet from his back, her gaze darting between us and Zeke as if she couldn’t figure out which of us to stay farther away from.
A low growl built in Richard’s chest.
Zeke aimed the gun at my uncle. “Back off,” he ordered.
“Where’s my son?” Richard snarled, the words barely human.
Zeke inched in the direction of Baylie’s car, keeping the gun level. Ellie hurried to stay behind him. “You heard me.”
Richard’s growl got louder. Zeke tightened his grip on the gun.
Police sirens carried over the fields, the sound so faint Zeke and Ellie gave no sign of noticing. But I could tell Richard heard. His head twitched to the left, toward the noise, and the growl cut off.
Zeke’s brow drew down cautiously.
I hesitated. Baylie shouldn’t have called the cops. She knew it wouldn’t help anything. But perhaps someone at the grain company had heard the gunshot over the distance. Or Ellie’s grandfather had called in his allies.
Neither option was good. The police would be a serious problem, because chances were that Brock was dead in there, given the size of the gun Zeke was holding and the fact my cousin hadn’t left the warehouse this entire time. At close enough range, a cannon like that would do serious damage, even with our defenses. It was hard to feel sorry. I knew I probably should, since Brock was technically family and all. But that knowledge didn’t make the feeling come.
And didn’t change the fact cops would mean all of us getting arrested and Chloe ending up squarely back in her parents’ hands.
I looked to Ellie, catching her eye. I tilted my head toward the car with an urgent expression.
Swallowing hard, she inched to the other side of Zeke and started for the vehicle, keeping her attention on my uncle. Without lowering the weapon, Zeke followed.
Richard shuddered, clearly torn between pursuing them and continuing toward the warehouse.
I moved cautiously after Ellie, and saw Richard’s head twitch again when he heard my feet on the gravel. Watching me from the corner of his eye, he gave another low snarl.
Backpedaling, Ellie put more distance between herself and him even as Zeke did the same.
Richard strode for the warehouse door.
Ellie ran as Baylie began driving toward us. Keeping the gun pointed toward Richard’s back, Zeke followed at a hobbling walk.
And that wasn’t fast enough. Not if the cops were coming. Not in the time it would take Richard to confirm t
hat the dehaian had just killed his son.
The dehaian Chloe loved.
I shivered, watching him, and then drew a rough breath, driving away the instincts and the darker things I didn’t want to think about as I forced my skin to change to human again.
“Run,” I told him, a growl still lurking in my voice.
His face tightened. He kept retreating at the same pace.
“Damn you, run.”
“Can’t.”
His gaze flicked to me, all dark and challenging and really making me want to punch him just for existing. Fighting hard against the impulse, I glanced to his legs and the silver threads hanging there as though they’d grown from his skin.
The growl grew stronger. I shook my head, turning the sound to a curse. “Come on,” I snapped.
I strode over and snagged his arm, throwing it around my shoulder.
“Where’s Chloe?” Zeke demanded, his words coming in short gasps while he attempted to keep pace at my side.
“On her way,” I replied, hoping it was true.
A roar sounded from inside the warehouse.
My heart climbed my throat. Zeke grunted, adjusting his other hand on the gun as he tried to move faster.
Baylie pulled her car up in front of us. Ellie tugged open the rear door before retreating quickly to the opposite side of the vehicle.
I barely kept myself from throwing Zeke in. Gripping the top of the car, he managed to climb inside while I hurried for the other door.
Richard raced from the warehouse.
I swung into the passenger seat.
“Chloe?” Baylie cried.
“We’ll find her. Go!”
She hit the gas. Gravel spewed from beneath the tires as she whipped the car through a tight turn and then sped back toward the road.
Chapter Twenty-One
Chloe
I’d never run this fast in my life.
And Noah’s cousins were closing in behind me.
Concrete turned to gravel beneath my shoes as I left the parking lot and raced toward the silos. Tall as skyscrapers, the towers blocked the midmorning sun. Shadows swallowed me as I darted between the buildings, while a few dozen feet away, a group of workers looked over in alarm to see me shoot past.
