Progenitor

by Cassandra Chandler

  She actually laughed. “That’s true. You always have.”

  Brock nipped her neck, then kissed it. She sucked in a breath, but pulled away.

  “If you start touching me like that, I’m going to forget we’re in a life-or-death situation,” she said.

  “Werewolf libidos are so much more intense than I realized. Now I get why Marcus and Tessa are always running off together.” He shuddered and shook his head. “And thinking of that has effectively extinguished the moment.”

  “I’ve never been happier to be mindblind,” she said. “I don’t want their ‘activities’ to interfere with ours.”

  “Me either.”

  Meg’s smile faded. “But wait. Are you mindblind, too? If Roy can read you, he’ll know we’re coming.”

  “I haven’t heard any thoughts but my own.”

  Brock couldn’t believe how much that bothered him. How lonely it felt.

  He’d dreamt of having his mind to himself without having to extend any effort. Now that his dream had come true, he almost wished he had the link back. He missed it.

  “I suppose you do have a lot of practice keeping people out of your head,” she said.

  “I do.”

  Keeping up his shields was second nature. What if he was blocking Roy without realizing it?

  When Brock had tried to reach out to his replicants, he’d felt a kind of buzzing. Could that have been his new dweller nature trying to establish a link with Roy, Marcus, and Tessa?

  If it was a new link emerging and Roy tried to fuck with Brock’s mind through it, he’d be in for a shock. After dealing with his replicants for so long, Brock could do a hell of a lot more than block other people’s thoughts.

  He felt his lips peel away from his teeth in a broad grin. This was going to be fun.

  “Come on.” He tugged on Meg’s hand, stepping through the only open door and pulling her after him. “Let’s give Roy something to really be afraid of.”

  They were standing in a long corridor. There were walls spaced periodically through it that had large openings they could easily step through. Brock bet that those could be sealed in the event of hull breaches. Why were they all standing open now?

  The corridor itself was gunmetal gray, with clear walls on either side. Every dozen or so feet, there was a large rectangle etched into the wall, made of the same transparent material. Even without the access panels attached to the wall next to them, it was obvious they were doors. The rooms beyond, though…

  Each was small, with clear walls separating them. The only solid metal walls were opposite the doors, letting them see into every corner. Some rooms had benches built into the walls, varying in sizes. A couple even had basins and what could be toilets.

  “Is it just me, or does this kind of look like the pit?” Brock asked.

  Meg’s eyes were wide and glowing. Her grip on his hand would have broken it if she hadn’t turned him. She was so close that she kept bumping into him as they walked.

  Yeah, she saw the resemblance. He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her.

  “These could be security panels,” he said. “If they were meant for palm prints, whatever ran this ship had much longer fingers than humans.”

  “They could be designed for a variety of life forms,” Meg murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  They reached a corridor that bisected the hallway. Roy’s scent clearly led left.

  “This ship is huge,” Meg said. “Roy could ambush us easily.”

  “We don’t have time to get lost. We have to follow his scent.”

  “Too bad the hatch won’t open for us,” Meg said. “We could have ambushed him, maybe.”

  “You’re right, the hatch won’t open for anyone but Vaughn.” Brock’s heart felt a little lighter.

  “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

  “It is. Vaughn explored every inch of the ship he could. He knew there were some parts that he couldn’t get access to, but didn’t realize how much was out of his reach.”

  “And that makes you happy because…”

  “Because, Vaughn could never get from the sections he’s been working in to these. Which means that if Roy thinks he’s going to get to Vaughn—or Tessa and Marcus—by going this way, he’s wrong. If Vaughn couldn’t get through, no one can.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Brock hoped so, too.

  “The interior doors will open to anyone, though?” she asked.

  “In the section I used to live in, yes. They don’t have digital code panels, but the ship already had biometric scanners for reading palm prints next to several of the doors. Vaughn programmed them to recognize us after he managed to hack into the system.”

  “Then how did Roy make it into this corridor? The first thing we did was cross through an open door.”

  The relief Brock felt vanished in a fresh wave of dread. Where the hell had Roy gotten access to this kind of tech?

  Even if there was another ship, as Vaughn had theorized, there still had to be someone to figure out how things worked and make the gadgets and controls Roy was using. Another ship was useless without another Vaughn.

  Brock shivered at the thought.

  “We’re going to figure that all out later,” Brock said. “After we take care of Roy.”

  Brock picked up the pace, running as quickly as he could through the maze of hallways without losing Roy’s scent. They hadn’t made it far when they turned a corner and both skidded to a stop.

  One of the cell walls in front of them had been smashed. Clear pebbles were strewn over the floor. The cell itself was triple the size of most of the others they’d passed.

  What chilled the blood in Brock’s veins were the enormous claw marks covering the floor, ceiling, and transparent wall of the opposite chamber. It looked like something had broken out of its cell and gone berserk in the hallway, scratching everything in reach. The thing had to have been as big as a T-rex.

  There were scorch marks on the metal as well as claw marks—some on the wall of the creature’s chamber, but most out in the hall on the floor and ceiling. The dispersal pattern seemed similar to some of the Blades’ plasma weapons.

  The hatch that led to the next section of corridor had been stretched and crushed, deep finger marks bent into the metal where something had pushed it apart. Brock and Meg walked forward slowly, staring up into a giant hole in the ceiling. From what he could see, the level above was all white metal, like the main sublevel of the ranch.

  What the hell could have done that? And was it still in the ship?

  It couldn’t be. The ship had crashed thousands of years ago. Nothing could have survived that long. At least, he hoped not.

  Edgar—his biological father—had said that he was one of the original passengers on the ship. Brock had thought it was a ploy to make Edgar seem more powerful. It had to be.

  Whatever had done that damage must have died long ago, whether it was trapped on the ship or managed to escaped into Earth’s ecosystem like the other organisms that created dwellers.

  Just one more thing to worry about.

  “I really don’t like this,” Meg said.

  “Neither do I. You’re better at tracking scents than I am. Are you picking up anything?”

  She shook her head. “Only Roy.”

  “Let me know if that changes.”

  They started to run again. Brock could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his senses hypervigilant.

  “Wait.” Meg slowed, then headed back to a small open door they had run past. It was barely more than human-sized. “The trail goes in here.”

  They entered the small room. Lights flashed bright blue on the wall in a weird script. Below them, a trap door in the floor stood open.

  “Blue is good, right?” Meg said.

  It felt more like a warning to Brock. “For us, maybe. For the aliens that built this ship? I don’t know.”

  He stood above the large open square in the floor and looked
down. The area beneath him was gunmetal gray.

  “If Roy can open the doors, he can get to the section where Vaughn was working,” Brock said.

  He didn’t bother with the ladder that led down from the hole. It was only about a twenty foot drop, and he’d seen werewolves clear more.

  He tucked his elbows to his sides and jumped through the trap door, landing in a crouch below. Wires hung from the ceiling, and he could feel the familiar vibration of the engines nearby.

  As soon as he stood and stepped out of the way, Meg landed next to him. She stayed close to the floor, glancing all around for a moment before standing.

  Brock pulled her against his side, wrapping his arms around her for a quick hug.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” Brock said. “Remember?”

  She let out a breath through pursed lips. “I know. I just… There’s a lot I’m trying to sort through. I was with Roy for so long, just the two of us.”

  For a moment, Brock wondered if she was having second thoughts about killing Roy. That would be a big problem, because Brock was really looking forward to ripping Roy’s head off. Her next words reassured him and made him more determined than ever to make Roy pay.

  Her voice was small as she said, “I don’t know how to not be afraid of him.”

  Brock held her tighter. “We get through this, and you’ll never have to be afraid of him again. Just focus on what you’re moving toward, not what you’re running away from.”

  She let out a short laugh, clutching the back of his shirt. “How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?”

  He leaned back and hooked his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I’m your mate, remember?”

  “If you kiss me, I won’t be able to stop us this time,” she said. Her eyes were glowing bright.

  Brock laughed. “Then let’s get this over with.”

  They held each other’s hands as they followed the trail of Roy’s scent. It didn’t take long before they stepped through an open door that led into a section of the ship Brock recognized.

  “Dammit, he made it through.” Brock hurried toward the room that held the stasis chambers.

  Meg pulled against his hand briefly, pausing in front of an open door. He glanced into the room and froze.

  “Your scent,” she said. “It’s strongest here.”

  “This was my room.”

  It had been, anyway. Roy had destroyed it.

  The bed was in pieces, fragments of the plastic frame littering the floor and embedded in the machinery that had been tracking Brock’s vitals. It looked like Roy had stabbed the equipment with metal he’d snapped off from the bed.

  The mattress was shredded, bits of foam scattered everywhere. Dad’s chair had been crushed like a soda can someone had stepped on.

  Brock took a deep breath through his nose. “I don’t smell any blood.”

  Meg sniffed, then nodded. “Neither do I.”

  “He came here first. And this had to have made a hell of a lot of noise.”

  Meg smiled. “Vaughn knew he was coming.”

  Brock nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The stasis chamber room was around another corner. Now that Brock had a better idea of the ship’s design, he was pretty sure this labyrinthine section of the ship was part of the engine room.

  The door to the chamber was shut. Brock didn’t let that reassure him. Roy’s scent led straight to the door.

  Brock had purposely avoided this room. He’d figured he would be spending enough time in the pods within to last a lifetime. Now, he wished he’d checked it out. He paused, closing his eyes as he took a few deep breaths, willing his body to calm.

  “Are you okay?” Meg asked.

  “Yes. Just focusing. We don’t know what’s on the other side of that door.”

  He reached into one of the pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out what would probably be their best weapon—a pair of sunglasses that Vaughn had designed for Marcus to keep people from seeing the glow of his eyes. Surprise could always turn the tide of battle.

  Brock put on the glasses. “And now, neither will Roy. Open the door.”

  “How?”

  “Just place your palm on the rectangle.” He nodded toward the biometric scanner.

  “I have access to the ship?”

  “You’re a Blade now.”

  She cast a somber look at him and nodded. “I won’t betray your trust.”

  Brock smiled at her. “I know.”

  She only hesitated for a moment before reaching out to the scanner. The door opened with a soft whoosh.

  Brock stepped in. He felt Meg follow, staying close behind him.

  Roy was standing with his back to the door. Naked.

  He was smaller than Brock expected. Tall and lanky, but corded with muscles. Pale scars peppered his back and legs—claw marks from his transformation.

  Roy turned toward them slowly, his eyes already glowing bright gold. He had light brown hair that brushed his shoulders. His lips peeled away from his teeth in a snarl.

  Brock really hoped Vaughn’s glasses were working, because from the way his own eyes were tingling, they must be as bright as Roy’s.

  Something deep in his gut told Brock to rip off Roy’s head in response to the challenge of his stare. Brock pushed it away.

  He recognized this man. He remembered…

  He remembered Roy disemboweling him, digging out his heart, ripping off his face. How many other deaths was Roy responsible for?

  “Another replicant,” Roy snarled. “How many times do I have to fucking kill you before you stay dead?”

  The only reason the replicants had been killed was that Roy had caught them off guard. He always had something up his sleeve—even when he was naked.

  He stepped aside, revealing Tessa standing behind him.

  Oh shit.

  She stared at Brock over Roy’s shoulder, her expression dazed. Behind her, five huge stasis pods lined the wall. Well, four and a half. Vaughn had been busy. Parts for the fifth one were stacked on the floor.

  The doors to the pods were mostly chrome, with a small window where the person’s face would be. Brock could see Marcus suspended in one of the chambers. Blue lights shimmered in vertical lines all around him and his hair was floating around his face. Zero gravity?

  Only one of the pods was open, revealing the dense white cushioning that lined the inside of the chamber. It must have been Tessa’s. How the hell had Roy managed to bring her out of it?

  Vaughn, Dad, and Porter weren’t sure how the pods would affect the people in them. Otherwise, they would have put Brock in one weeks ago. Porter and Dad were supposed to carefully monitor Marcus and Tessa as they came out of it.

  No wonder Tessa looked so disoriented. That and the fact that Roy was probably fucking with her mind again. It was time for Brock to dish out some of the same.

  “You must be Roy.” Brock smiled. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you face to face.”

  He fought to keep himself from growling out the last words.

  “Brock?” Tessa sounded half-asleep, but the ghost of a smile played over her lips.

  Roy’s sneer faded. He grabbed Tessa’s shoulder as she took a stumbling step forward, then wrapped his arm around her waist.

  “Is he really, love?” Roy asked.

  “My brother,” Tessa mumbled.

  Roy put his lips right against her ear and whispered, “He is not your pack. I am.”

  Brock’s skin started to crawl. He could feel his claws trying to extend, his teeth sharpening. He used every ounce of self-control to keep his shoulders from bunching.

  No tells. No werewolf body language. No changing. Yet.

  With Tessa in the picture, surprise was their only advantage. She could do a hell of a lot of damage with her cybernetic hand. Why had Roy left Marcus in stasis, though?

  Roy kissed the side of Tessa’s head, and said, “Go take care of the curator for me.”

  The curato
r? Vaughn was there?

  Brock felt the buzzing push against his mind, like the room was thick with static. Tessa winced, then turned toward one of the empty stasis chambers. She gripped the side of it with her cybernetic arm and pulled, but nothing happened.

  “Break the window,” Roy said. “Just like you did to that prison cell where they held our omega.”

  Roy had seen that? Of course he had. He didn’t even need Meg’ collar—he’d been linked to Marcus and Tessa. Feeding her violent urges, telling her to kill.

  The fact that Roy had left Marcus in his stasis chamber made Brock wonder about how Roy actually used his telepathic link to control his pack.

  It was possible that he had power over them because he was the alpha. Or it could be because they didn’t actually know what was going on.

  If he was tricking them—deceiving them, like he’d deceived Meg—maybe Brock could get through to Tessa. Roy seemed more a manipulator than a leader.

  Even without a link, Roy had twisted Meg’s self-perception into a knot that had taken everyone’s help to untangle. How much worse would it be hearing him whisper his thoughts in their own minds?

  “Brock,” Roy said. “I thought you were dying.”

  Brock shrugged, feigning a casual demeanor. “I got over it.”

  Tessa started pounding on the glass window of the stasis chamber where Vaughn was presumably hiding. Brock expected Vaughn to shock Tessa any second. He didn’t. Or he couldn’t.

  The thought tested the limits of Brock’s control. Carey might already be gone. Brock wasn’t about to lose anyone else.

  His muscles were cramping with the need to change, to tear through Roy’s skull and dig out the brain he was using against Brock’s family. Against Brock’s pack.

  Roy wasn’t alpha anymore. He just didn’t know it yet.

  “You can come out now, Meg,” Roy said. “I know you’re there.”

  Brock felt Meg’s hands on his back, trembling as she grabbed the fabric of his shirt and held on. She stepped closer, her heat seeping into him.

  “I’m not mad.” Roy’s tone had become cloyingly sweet. “I’m proud of you. You’ve done so well. Come to me and I’ll reward you.” He held out his arms as if he expected her to run into his embrace.