“Is Porter okay?” she asked.
“Okay?” Dexter let out a harsh laugh. “He’s alive, if that’s what you mean.”
Brock took a step toward him, and Dexter jerked back.
“What’s wrong?” Brock said.
“We’re diminished.” For a moment, Dexter looked lost. He stared vacantly at the floor in front of him and shook his head. His voice was tight when he continued. “We can’t feel you anymore. Or hear the others. Porter and I can barely sense each other.”
Meg couldn’t imagine what that was like for them. How alone they must feel.
Brock hesitated, then continued forward. Dexter held his ground. It looked like he was readying himself for an attack.
“Brock,” Meg warned.
As soon as he was close enough, Brock reached out and grasped Dexter’s shoulders. He pulled him into a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” Brock said.
Dexter lifted his arms out to his sides as if he didn’t know what to do. Then he wrapped them around Brock, hugging him back.
Meg could see Dexter’s face, the wonder in his expression, the fear. After a few moments, they separated.
“It’s better than the alternative, I guess.” Dexter’s signature smirk was back, but there were lines of strain around his eyes.
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Brock said. “We’ll figure this out.”
Dexter’s smile faded. “You should know that Carey is gone.”
“What?” Brock gasped.
Meg stepped forward, not reaching out to Brock physically, but letting her proximity calm him.
“There was an accident,” Dexter said. “With all of us circling the drain, Dad and Vaughn decided they couldn’t wait to see if Zach would split before putting him in stasis. Damien was able to get Zach stabilized with Vaughn’s help.”
“Jesus.” Brock ran his hand through his hair.
“We’re going to have to handle Damien carefully when he arrives,” Dexter said. “This wasn’t the best way for him to find out he’s been working for dwellers all along.”
“When he arrives?” Brock asked.
Dexter nodded. “He’s insisting on coming to the ranch. Vaughn was able to convince him not to tell the other Blades yet, but Damien wants to know everything.”
“Vaughn says the stasis chambers are self-contained and mobile,” Meg said. “Damien is bringing Zach here so we can help him. Eli is hopeful Zach will split once he emerges.”
“Is Dad okay?” Brock asked. “What happened to Jonathan?”
Dexter shook his head. “Jon and Nathan are having trouble adapting. When we all woke up in the hall, they went berserk. We managed to get them into the lab and subdued them. Porter doesn’t know how long the sedating agent will work, though.”
“What about Dad?” Brock said.
Meg was as worried as Brock sounded. Dexter seemed to be hedging, purposefully avoiding giving an answer.
He paused for another moment, then said, “Nathan broke his nose and wrist.”
Brock hissed in a breath, his shoulders hunching. His fingers curled at his sides and his nails lengthened. “I’ll kill them.”
Meg put her hands on Brock’s shoulders and gently urged them down.
“They’re confused,” she said. “They need your guidance, like the others did.”
“How am I supposed to do that when our link has been severed?” Brock snapped.
She recoiled from his harsh tone, but he caught her arms before she could step away, keeping her close.
“I’m sorry,” Brock said. “I guess I’m having trouble adapting, too.”
Meg nodded. “We’re going to figure this out.”
“We’d better do it fast,” Dexter said. “Because Jon and Nathan aren’t our only problems.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The lab was a wreck. Broken glass littered the counters, several of the cabinet doors were off their hinges, and the floor still had scorch marks on it from where Vaughn must have used the flamethrower on Porter’s body.
Jon and Nathan were propped up against the wall farthest from the door.
Brock herded Meg away from the glass. He wished he’d waited long enough for her to put on shoes.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Brock said.
“Watch the sass.” Dad’s voice had a thick nasal twang to it.
Brock didn’t know if he was more relieved or furious when Dad stepped into view. His nose was covered in bandages, but it didn’t mask the bruising on his cheeks and under his eyes.
He was cradling his right hand against his chest. It was wrapped in a makeshift splint—strips of cloth that held two metal bars in place on either side of his wrist.
“Dad.” Brock felt frozen in place. His eyes were tingling, probably glowing. He didn’t want to scare his dad, but he was so happy to see him in one piece.
Dad walked over to Brock and looked him over.
Brock’s left eye made a few electric popping sounds. Little motes of blue energy floated in front of his field of view.
What the hell am I?
“I’ll be damned,” Dad said.
He laughed, then wrapped his arms around Brock, squeezing him tight. Brock hugged him back, but not too tight.
Werewolf strength was going to take some getting used to. He rested his head against Dad’s shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Dad said. He leaned over to reach out to Meg, pulling her into the hug and murmuring, “Thank you. Thank you for saving my sons.”
Brock felt Meg tense, her shoulders trembling. He pulled back enough to kiss the top of her head.
“This is all quite touching, but you should know that Jon and Nathan are coming around.” Porter’s tone was dry. “And there’s a fire in sublevel 3.”
“The Boom Room?” Brock asked.
Porter nodded. “Looks like Meg was right about the collar having an explosive in it.”
“Is Vaughn still working on the stasis chambers?” Brock asked. He stepped away from Meg and his dad.
“I assume so,” Porter said.
Brock felt a chill shoot down his spine hearing Porter use “I” referring to himself, just like when Dexter had earlier. They were handling the change incredibly well, all things considered.
Brock wasn’t sure what the long-term ramifications would be. He had more immediate concerns.
“We haven’t had a chance to tell him about what happened yet,” Porter said.
“What?” Brock’s stomach seemed to turn to ice. “No one’s checked in with him?”
“We’ve all been a little busy.” Dexter looked pointedly between Brock and Meg.
Dammit. While he’d been…distracted, everyone around him had been in danger. But then, before Meg had helped Brock settle down, he’d been one of the dangers.
“What set off the bomb?” Brock asked.
“I’m not sure.” Porter finally seemed to start sharing some of Brock’s agitation.
“Check on Vaughn,” Brock said. “Now. I’ll take care of Jon and Nathan.”
Brock turned toward the rousing twins, watching them carefully as they stumbled to their feet. Dexter stood behind Brock, holding a spray bottle of what Brock hoped was whatever they’d used to sedate the new pair in the first place.
“Meg, keep Dad safe,” Brock said.
“I will.”
He heard them move away, but didn’t turn to look. His gaze was locked on the twins’. Well, on one of them at a time.
There’d always been a fighter and a talker. Normally, he could tell which was which by looking at them. He didn’t need their connection for that.
The fighters always had a readiness about them, even when they were “relaxing”. The way they stood, the way they constantly surveyed their environment.
Both of this pair looked like they would love nothing more than to rip out Brock’s throat with their fingers.
Brock walked right up to them. They stiffened, as if they hadn’t expected
him to be so bold. Or maybe so reckless.
Damn, had he really been that big when he split? He didn’t understand how all three of them had kept so much mass. Even he was bigger than he’d expected. It was just another weird thing about the latest split.
My last split…
The pain was over for him. If he died again, that would be it. He wouldn’t have to experience death with anyone else, or know that it wouldn’t be his last.
Brock reached out for the link. The buzzing static was in the way, flocking to his thoughts the moment he let down his shields. He quickly snapped them back in place.
Just because he wouldn’t feel their deaths—or the splits that he hoped would still come after—that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go through it with them, be there for them. They needed him, like he needed them. They were family.
Now, we’re pack.
His chest tingled as a growl vibrated deep in his throat.
“You want to throw down with me,” Brock said. “I know.”
The corners of their noses twitched, like they were barely suppressing a snarl. Brock stepped closer, getting right in their faces.
“I don’t need a link to know you,” Brock said. “It doesn’t matter what else I am. I’m still your progenitor. And you will do as I fucking say.”
Meg stepped forward, her touch light on his arm. She reached out to Nathan the same way. Jon and Nathan both looked to her, the malice leaving their gazes.
“You should listen to him,” Meg said. “Brock cares about you. He can help you.”
They might not be linked, but their actions echoed each other perfectly. So did their expressions—and Brock didn’t like it.
He shifted his weight so that he was between Meg and the pair.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t kick your asses when you need it,” he said.
The corners of their mouths twitched into little proto-smirks.
Behind them, Dad said, “Oh my God.”
At the same time, Porter said, “Holy shit.”
Brock stepped back from Jon and Nathan before turning so he could keep an eye on them while also seeing what Dad and Porter were upset about.
Porter was sitting on a stool in front of a monitor with Dad hovering over his shoulder, partly blocking the view. All Brock could make out was a bunch of wriggling brown…something.
“What the hell is that?” Brock asked.
Dad turned around, his face ashen around the bandages. “Trolls. Hundreds of them. Thousands, maybe.”
“Where?” Brock’s skin was crawling. The monitor was completely filled with the writhing things. What were they doing?
“They tunneled through the walls of the cave.” Porter’s voice sounded strained. “This is supposed to be a view of the ship.”
Brock’s skin felt electrified, his fingertips tingling and his teeth aching. He pushed against the change, focusing on what needed to be done—in his human form.
“Did you reach Vaughn?” Brock asked.
Porter shook his head. “No response. The feeds from inside the ship have been cut off. I have no idea how.”
Brock dug his fingers into his palm. He had to keep it together. Tessa was in there. And Vaughn and Marcus.
“Ops,” Brock bellowed. “Porter, get Meg and Dad to ops now. I want every monitor fired up with live feeds and footage starting ten minutes before the blast. There’s no way it’s a coincidence.”
Porter stood and walked Dad out of the room. Meg lingered, though. Brock wasn’t surprised.
“I’ll hit the armory.” Dexter was already heading for the door. “Get us all real clothes, weapons.”
“Take the twins with you,” Brock said.
Dexter paused. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yeah.” Brock turned toward Jon and Nathan, and said, “Our family—your family—is in danger. We need you. Are you with us?”
Jon and Nathan stared at him for a moment. At least this time they didn’t seem to be challenging him. They turned to the door and headed out into the hallway.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Dexter said.
Brock wished he could send Dexter a silent warning to watch his back. Instead, Brock nodded his head toward the hall and said, “Be careful. And grab me a set of Marcus’s spare clothes, would you?”
“Built for a werewolf on the go.” Dexter smirked. “On my way.”
Brock turned to Meg. She was staring at the monitor.
“There’s so many of them,” she said. “Are we really supposed to be able to see the ship?”
“The view’s never been that great, but Vaughn has cameras hooked up to constantly monitor the area. The ship is mostly buried. Was mostly buried, anyway.”
He leaned closer to the screen. The trolls were covering every surface, clawing frantically. Some of them were actually killing each other in their frenzy to…
“They’re digging out the ship,” Brock said.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her from the room. Porter had left the door to ops open.
Brock paused outside the door. “Porter, update my security readings. I need to be able to access everything.”
“On it.” Porter entered the necessary commands, one of the monitors changing to a view of what must be Brock’s official picture. For once, Brock didn’t flinch when he saw his face.
He put his hand on the biometric scanner, then leaned forward to update his optical record. Getting locked out of a system or area he needed to get to could be fatal with the scale of the attack they were facing. The scanners beeped and flashed green.
“Meg, too,” Porter said. “Vaughn created a record for her already. He just hadn’t enabled it, yet.”
Brock stepped aside so she could copy what he’d done. He glanced into ops.
Seeing Porter at Vaughn’s station was just wrong. The moment the scanner indicated it was done reading Meg’s data, Brock put his arm around her and ushered her into the next room. They stopped in front of the monitors.
“They’re digging out the ship,” Brock said.
“I came to the same conclusion.” Porter nodded toward a monitor showing previous footage.
Silver metal gleamed in the lights they constantly kept on in the cave. The fins on the back of the ship were dark green, and instead of the round rocket-thrusters Brock had expected when he first saw the ship, there were huge, flat black panels.
“That’s it?” Meg sounded surprised. “From the hologram I saw back in the dining room, I just thought it’d be more…”
“It’s a lot more impressive on the inside,” Porter said. “Only the back of the ship was ever exposed. Since we couldn’t access parts of the ship, Vaughn had to extrapolate what he thought the rest of it was like.”
“There’s a hatch here that we use for access.” Brock pointed to the hatch. “It’s nearly invisible if you don’t know to look for it, and it only opens for Vaughn.”
“How are we going to get in?” Meg asked.
“We’ll figure that out after we get these things cleared from the area.” Brock watched the monitor carefully as the first trolls appeared. “When was the blast?”
“Seconds before they showed up,” Porter said. “The first dust you see falling from the cave’s roof is from the explosion. Then, this happened.”
Trolls started dropping through the camera’s field of view. The first ones to hit the ground let out hideous screeches. Some died instantly, but others writhed on the ground, twitching broken limbs. The next wave had a softer landing. They were falling faster than the dead could vaporize, until the floor of the cavern was completely covered.
“What would make them do that?” Meg said.
She turned away from the camera, burying her face against Brock’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, but kept his focus on the screen. Tried to, anyway.
The camera cut out.
“What happened?” Brock asked.
Meg glanced over her shoulder. He led her closer to Porter, till they were s
tanding right behind him.
“Just a minute.” Porter tapped a few commands and a different view appeared on the monitor. “They took out all the cameras. We only have one left.”
“The one on the elevator tube,” Brock said.
Dexter, Jon, and Nathan filed into the room. The newest twins stood along the far wall, stances wide and arms loose at their sides. They were decked out with swords, stun weapons, and what looked like grenade belts crossing their huge chests.
In the full Blades gear, they looked damn imposing, but Brock didn’t let himself feel the slightest bit of intimidation. Showing any weakness would probably lead to another fight, and they didn’t have time for that.
He forced himself to feel pride instead. This was his pack. If Roy ever dared to show his face, it’d be Brock’s turn to rip it off. And that would be if Roy was lucky. Jon and Nathan didn’t look like they’d be that gentle.
Brock smiled at them, his teeth bared.
They smiled back.
“Nice to see you three are coming to an understanding.” Dexter stretched out his arm and flicked his wrist, extending the wand of one of Vaughn’s flamethrowers. He checked it over, then retracted it. “Do we have a plan?”
“They only took out the cameras mounted on the cave walls,” Brock said.
Porter cocked his head to the side. The familiar gesture helped Brock feel a little bit better.
“The camera is embedded in the elevator shaft,” Porter said. “They can’t claw through the metal.”
“And if they can’t get through the composite Vaughn designed based on the ship, there’s no way they can get through the real thing.” Brock reached out and squeezed Porter’s shoulder. “We have a little time.”
“Don’t count on it.” Dexter pointed at the monitor he was watching. “The collar blew the Boom Room and took out the entire third sublevel. This isn’t just trolls expanding their territory. It’s a calculated attack, and whoever’s behind it has access to technology that can breach Vaughn’s inventions. We don’t know what else they can do.”
“As if we don’t know who’s behind it.” Brock felt his shoulders hunch, his spine cracking and popping as he fought the urge to change. It was a hell of a lot easier than trying to hold off a split or control someone else’s body remotely.
Progenitor Page 23
