by Jamie Grey
The first held a human heart. It lay on its tray, pink and shiny and clean. Perfectly normal. Renna was about to move on to the next tray when it convulsed in a mockery of a heartbeat.
And again.
And a third time.
Renna stumbled backward as the pair of eyes on the next tray swiveled to look at her.
Holy hell. Samil had created living implants.
A sob broke free, and she squeezed her eyes closed until she could pull it together. Her whole body trembled, and every breath she took burned her nose with the scent of blood and chemicals. She had to get the hell out of here. Now.
Renna backed up until her rear hit the door. She couldn’t rip her gaze from the motionless bodies and their now-living parts. Who had they been? Had they volunteered for Samil’s experiments because she’d promised them a better life?
Obviously she’d lied.
Renna wasn’t religious, but she sent up a prayer to whatever gods these people believed in that they hadn’t suffered at least. The woman on the end didn’t look much older than Renna, with the gaunt cheeks of someone who’d had too much clay and not enough food.
She paused, one foot out the door, then spun to look at the girl again. Her heart jackhammered, sucking the breath from her lungs.
Renna knew her.
Annet Perra had lived in the Izan tenements where Renna grew up. She’d been ten years older, but she’d always been nice to the little kids. When she got a little extra money from the manufacturing job she worked, she’d buy them candy or an extra piece of fruit.
Renna’s gaze dropped to the woman’s arm—or where it used to be. Her forearm and hand were missing. Industrial accident, most likely. And she knew firsthand what happened to women who could no longer work in the factories. They did what her mother had. They turned to prostitution.
But why would Samil use this girl? Was there a connection or was it merely coincidence?
Renna frowned at the Annet’s body. Knowing Samil, there was no way in hell this was coincidence, but she didn’t have time to investigate right now. She chewed her lip, glancing between the body and the door. Leaving Annet here in this place felt like a betrayal. Tenement rats stuck together—that was the first law of growing up in that place. But the girl was beyond help now. And Viktis was still alive.
Sending a silent apology to the girl, she slipped back out the door and closed it behind her. She curled her trembling hands into fists. Samil was the monster here, not these poor people.
Shouts echoed through the facility as the men searched for Renna. There was only a matter of minutes before they found her again. She squared her shoulders as she faced the last door.
She couldn’t make the same mistake she’d made with Samil. No matter how injured Viktis was or what horrors she found in that room, she needed to stop Larson first. No matter the cost.
Renna tried the door handle. It moved easily, the door swinging open on silent hinges. Clutching her lockpick, the only weapon she had, she stepped into the room. Her gaze darted to Viktis, still chained to the wall. He didn’t even raise his head as she took another step.
Was he even still alive?
“Nice to see you again, Renna.” Larson leaned a shoulder against the wall, lips twisted in a sneer. “Dr. Samil thought you’d head this way. I’ll be more than happy to take you to her. After I’ve had a little fun with you first.” He snapped a finger at the med-drone floating behind him, and it vibrated as its sensors kicked in. “She only needs your mind to work, after all. Perhaps a little pain will make you behave.”
One of the drone’s spindly arms extended as if it was excited to get started.
“Did you know Dr. Navang?” Renna ignored the needle sticking from the drone’s arm and glanced around the room. Larson had pushed the empty metal gurney to the side, and the tray table with his torture tools took up half of the far wall. Viktis’s blood streaked the man’s hands, speckles of it dusting his face like war paint.
Her whole body shook with anger, but she needed to be smart.
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “He was a brilliant man.”
“Not so brilliant when I cornered him in his lab. He had lovely, sharp scalpels.”
Larson raised an eyebrow. “Why does this matter?”
“Because I slit his throat. And now I’m going to do the same to you.”
The major chuckled. “I love that you’re still so optimistic. Your files never indicated you had that streak. Give up, thief. You’re trapped here, and no matter what you do, Samil will use you to take down MYTH. It will go much easier for everyone involved if you’d cooperate.”
“I’ve never been much of a team player.” Renna shrugged. “Then again, neither have you. Getting your men killed in a botched mission, the sexual harassment, all those written reprimands in your files. I’m surprised MYTH didn’t court martial you.” Larson’s lips parted in surprise, and she smiled. “Your files indicated you were a fucking asshole.”
He growled and launched himself at her. “I’ve had enough of you.”
But Renna side-stepped easily, spinning around so she occupied the space Larson had just left. A few steps back and she’d have a whole tray of weapons at her disposal.
Behind her, the med-drone whirred and spun, but it didn’t attack.
“Move another inch and your friend is dead,” Larson warned. He strode to the wall and jerked Viktis’s head up.
An electric shock collar circled Viktis’s neck.
“State-of-the-art torture device,” Larson said. “I can program instant death by injection or merely shock my captives. Depends on my mood. And right now I’m not feeling very charitable.” He pressed the button on the controller in his right hand and a zap of electricity shot through the collar.
Viktis screamed, a high, unearthly sound as he jerked and spasmed against the wall, head lolling violently from side to side.
“Stop!” Renna screamed. “Stop it right now. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Larson lowered his hand, and the electricity in the collar shut off. Viktis sagged against his chains, moaning in agony. The metal around his wrists was the only thing supporting him, and they dug in painfully, skin bulging on either side of the bands.
“Good answer.” Larson waved a hand at the med drone. “Hold still and we’ll make sure you don’t escape again.”
The metal globe glided through the air toward her, and Renna clenched her fists. She wanted to punch the thing as far away from her as she could, but she couldn’t afford to put Viktis in danger again. “If I cooperate, you have to let the alien go.”
“Of course,” Larson said with a smile.
“Liar. Take his collar off right now.”
“Or what?” His smug expression was almost enough to send her over the edge and she gritted her teeth.
“Or I’ll kill myself right now and you’ll all be shit out of luck.” She held up her lockpick. “Don’t think I won’t. I grew up in the tenements. I know exactly how to kill a person instantly.”
A muscle jumped in Larson’s jaw, and he glanced between Renna and Viktis. She could see the calculations running through his mind. Was she telling the truth? How could he keep his prisoner and get her under control at the same time?
“I never bluff about death,” she said coldly. “How pleased do you think Samil will be when I die on your watch?”
She saw the moment Larson made his decision, heard the instant whirring of the drone as it hurled itself at her, needle extended. She spun around, arm raised to ward it off.
It stopped inches from her throat, the wicked needle glinting in the hololights. A single bead of some clear drug welled at the end of the needle before dripping to the floor.
Renna blinked at the thing and took a step back. It hung motionless in the air, nudging a memory at the back of her mind.
The punching ball back on the Eris.
Across the room, Larson cursed, struggling with the drone’s controller. She turned around almost le
isurely and sent the drone careening toward him. Before he could even throw an arm up, the needle embedded itself in his throat, and Larson’s eyes widened as the vial of liquid emptied into his veins.
“What have you done?” he cried, dropping the controller and shoving the drone away with both hands. He clapped a hand to his neck, eyes bulging as he gasped for breath.
Renna released her control on the machine and it backed away from Larson. His skin had turned milky, and he swayed on his feet. With a moan, his knees gave out and he slid down the wall, landing on the floor with a thud.
She approached the trembling man, her smile growing with each step. Seeing him powerless and cowering made the adrenaline rush hot and rich through her veins. “You would know. You’re the one who stocked the drone.” She tilted her head to study him. “I’m guessing it was just a tranquilizer. I should be flattered. You guys really don’t want me to get hurt.”
“I’ll kill you myself, no matter what Samil wants.” Larson’s voice had dropped to a croak and his hands lay limply in his lap.
“Right. I’m shaking.” She urged the med-drone closer, using her implant to run through the list of attachments it carried until she found the one she wanted. She was going to enjoy this.
The round attachment slid from the drone’s body, sparks dancing at the tip of the sliver spike. If Larson could have moved, he would have crawled up the wall to get away from it.
“No,” he whispered. He’d gone even paler, if that was possible, all the blood draining from his face.
“Yes.” Renna ordered the machine forward.
It hummed as the spike touched Larson’s cheek and the spark arced into his skin. The gravitic cauterizer seared into the flesh on his cheekbone. The reek of burning flesh filled the room and a scream ripped from Larson’s throat.
“Please,” he begged. “Make it stop. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Make it stop?” she asked. “And did you stop the hundreds of times other people begged you to do the very same thing?”
“It’s different. Please.”
“It’s only different because you’re on the receiving end now.”
Across the room, Viktis groaned.
Renna snapped around. Gods, what was she doing? She snatched up Larson’s controller from the floor and switched off the collar. Gently she lifted it from Viktis’s neck, then tackled the shackles, slipping a shoulder under his arm so he wouldn’t fall to the floor as they released. Gently, she let him slide until he was sitting with his back propped against the wall.
Viktis blinked up at her, eyes unfocused and full of pain. “Is that really you, Ren?”
“It’s me, handsome. And I’m going to get you out of here. Can you walk?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. The asshole broke my ankle and my whole body hurts like hell. I don’t know if I can even move.”
Shit. Renna chewed her lip and glanced at the door. The hybrids could show up at any moment, and she wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.
“Go on without me,” he said. “Get out of here before Samil catches you again.” He squeezed her hand weakly. “Just put me out of my misery first, eh?”
“Don’t you dare talk like that, you washed-up old pirate. We’re both getting out of here.” The med-drone floated toward them. “I’m giving you a painkiller. It’ll help you get through the next couple of minutes so we can get out of here.”
“Better triple the dose.” Viktis tried to chuckle, then winced. “Damn. Hurts to laugh.”
“Then don’t laugh.” Her gaze shifted to the metal gurney. “All right. We need to get you up there. This isn’t going to be fun.”
“Just do it. I can feel the meds kicking in already.” Viktis clenched his jaw as Renna hauled him to his feet. Her finger slid against one of the cauterized holes, and he hissed.
“Gods! I’m so sorry!”
“Get moving before I pass out again. You can apologize later.”
Together, they limped toward the table. Renna got him to the edge and pressed the controls to lower the height enough that he could slide back onto it. She picked up his legs and swung them onto the gurney, then covered him with a sheet.
“We’re going to hope they don’t ask too many questions and assume you’re dead.”
“I’m close enough. I’ll barely be acting.” Dried amber blood streaked his face, and she carefully kept her gaze from lingering on the holes dotting his arms. If she let herself look, she’d be destroyed. Useless for anything except screaming.
Or killing.
“Renna? You okay?” he asked. “Samil is probably on her way.”
“One last thing to take care of.” Renna grabbed one of the long, thin knives from the tray and stalked back toward Larson’s motionless body. The drug had knocked him out, and his head was slumped on his chest, mimicking Viktis’s earlier pose. She curled her fingers around the knife. The man had tortured her friend and enjoyed it. He’d betrayed MYTH and caused thousands more deaths. He deserved to die. And she’d be more than happy to oblige.
Too bad he wasn’t awake to watch her do it.
“Renna! What are you doing?” Viktis asked.
“Killing the bastard.”
“Let it go. We don’t have time for this.”
Renna glanced back at Viktis’s destroyed face, then down at Larson. Anger licked beneath her skin, and she crouched in front of the man.
“I’ll always have time for this.”
With one fluid motion she jammed the knife up and through his diaphragm, directly into his heart.
THIRTY-FIVE
Viktis gasped as Larson’s body slid sideways. Renna rose from her crouch, wiping her hands on her trousers. “Now doesn’t that make you feel better?” she asked Viktis.
Viktis stared. His amber skin had turned gray and deep lines framed his narrowed lips. “When did you get so ruthless, Renna?”
She blinked. Why was he looking at her like she was a monster? He should be glad the man was dead.
When she didn’t answer, he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here. I’m not feeling so well.” As he spoke a bubble of blood formed at the corner of his lip, bursting in a fine spray across his skin.
Fuck. Internal bleeding? Punctured lung? Something worse? Renna threw open the door, grabbed another knife from the table, and wheeled the gurney out into the hallway. Whatever it was, Viktis needed medical attention immediately.
The drone followed like a dog, hovering several paces behind. It had been even easier to control than the punching ball. Had Samil’s virus changed something? Or was her implant progressing faster than she’d thought?
Either way, she was running out of time.
Renna cautiously peeked down the next corridor. Empty. Where the hell was everyone? Not that she wanted a welcoming committee, but the silence made her nervous. She much preferred to keep Samil and her army where she could see them.
The gurney’s tires squeaked against the cement floor as she maneuvered it down the hallway and through a back passage. If she could skip the main area, maybe they’d make it out of here without being caught. The drone struggled to keep up, its engine wheezing and spluttering.
Strange, but she didn’t have time to worry about it now. Viktis had passed out again, and his chest wound still bled sluggishly. He’d lost a lot of blood, and he’d lose even more if she didn’t get him back to his ship.
She entered the hall, freezing as every muscle clenched. The room was full of Samil’s men. Standing perfectly still.
Had the doctor activated the neural network? Was she controlling them now? But why weren’t they attacking?
Renna stared at the blinking red lights deep in the hybrids’ eyes. The lights she’d seen in her own eyes. Were hers blinking now, too, and she just didn’t know it?
She pushed the thought away and tried to focus. If these hybrids were connected to Samil’s network, maybe she could do the same thing they’d done in Navang’s f
acility. If she could input a virus, she could destroy this place and these monsters for good. She could stop them from attacking MYTH and destroying the people she cared about. She could protect Finn, Myka, Viktis.
She could stop Samil.
Renna swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat. Even though Finn had betrayed her, maybe even hated her, she was still in love with him. And she had no idea if that would ever change, now that she’d let him in.
On the gurney, Viktis coughed, more amber blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His skin had started to turn green, a sure sign of internal hemorrhaging.
Renna glanced back toward the lab area. A few more minutes and she could end this.
And end Viktis while she was at it.
A surge of realization flowed through her as she stared down at her old friend. The old Renna would have taken any chance to win, despite the odds. She would have left Viktis there to die if it meant stopping Samil. But somehow, in the last few weeks, she’d changed. That Renna—the one who worked alone, who didn’t need anyone—was gone. She needed Viktis alive. And that meant moving her ass.
Clenching her fingers around the gurney handle, she pushed it down the hallway and into the back area where Larson had captured them a few hours ago. The drone followed, but instead of gliding, it jerked and bobbed along as if it was running out of energy. The motor hissed and spluttered loudly.
If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was malfunctioning, but those things lasted for years and this was a brand-new model.
Renna unlocked the back door and pushed it open onto the watery light of Shalim. “We’re almost there, Vik,” she said, turning back to him.
Behind her, a zap sparked from the drone’s body. Light flashed in an electric arc from the motor, and the thing dropped to the floor.
Metal pieces scattered across the cement, bent and broken. She peered closer, frowning. The insides of the thing had melted together, the wires corroded and twisted. Like it had somehow overheated or malfunctioned.
