Zeth is silent but present inside me.
I’m trapped underground in a bunker laboratory, but I’m exactly where I need to be.
I get to work.
Chapter Fifteen
Zeth
I watch through Wren’s eyes as she works on another batch of Crimson Haze. The laboratory is quiet except for the bubbling of beakers and the occasional hiss when she adjusts the temperature. She’s focused, and I let her be. She needs the distraction and needs to feel useful and in control of something.
But my mind won’t stop racing.
The plan was simple. After Wren made contact with the Kyzer family, I was supposed to separate from her and find Tom, her handler, report everything we’d learned, coordinate next steps, and keep the FBI in the loop. I can leave this bunker easily, slip through the ventilation system as liquid, travel through the ducts, and reform outside somewhere safe. I can meet with Tom. Hell, I could even go straight to Captain Holt if I needed to.
But I’m not going anywhere.
There’s absolutely no way I’m leaving Wren alone in this place. She’s trapped underground with no windows, no escape route, and completely at their mercy. Garrett has her exactly where he wants her, and I saw how he looked at her earlier. Like she was something to devour. The memory makes rage simmer in me. If that bastard tries anything, I’ll rip him apart before he can blink.
As long as Wren is stuck down here, I will stay merged with her. I don’t care about protocol or the established plan. Her safety matters more than following orders, and if the MSA or the FBI have a problem with that, they can deal with me later.
It’s not just duty anymore, either. I need to be honest with myself about that. Yes, protecting her is my job, but this feels like more than professional responsibility. She’s starting to mean something to me, something I don’t quite have words for yet.The thought of leaving her vulnerable makes my entire being recoil.
“I heard that,”Wren’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
Shit.
“You should go meet with Tom tonight,”she says.“The FBI needs to know I’m alive, that I’m safe, and the mission is on track.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Zeth–”
“No.I’m not discussing this.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and I feel her frustration bleeding through our connection. Then she sighs, and the fight drains out of her.
“Fine,”she says.“To be honest, I’d rather have you stay anyway. I didn’t expect this. Being locked down here… I’m scared.”
Wren doesn’t admit fear easily and doesn’t let herself be vulnerable unless she has no other choice. The fact that she’s telling me this means she’s genuinely frightened.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”
She doesn’t respond, but I feel her gratitude like warmth spreading through our connection.
The main door unlocks with a heavy metallic click, and both of us tense up. I’m ready to act, if need be, but it’s just the undead guard. He ambles inside carrying two things: Wren’s duffel bag from the motel, and another bag that smells like food. Real food, not pizza.
He sets the duffel on the floor near the bedroom door and places the food bag on the counter near Wren. Then he turns to leave without a word.
“Thanks for bringing my stuff and for the food,” Wren calls out.
The undead stops. He looks back at her and nods once, then makes to leave again.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Wren asks.
Now he turns fully, and I can see surprise flicker across his decayed features. He probably doesn’t get asked his name often. Wren takes him in properly now. He’s tall, maybe six and a half feet, but hunched so he appears shorter. He has spindly limbs that look fragile, but I know from earlier that he is deceptively strong. His skin hangs loose on his bones, pale with purple-gray undertones. He has sunken cheeks and hollow eye sockets. There’s an earthy smell clinging to him, like turned soil and decay.
He opens his mouth, revealing rotted teeth, some missing entirely. He grins and the expression is strangely friendly despite the state of his mouth.
