He has lost his helmet somewhere along the way. There is a weeping gash at his temple and a nice bruise forming—he has clearly been in the thick of it at some point…
Anxiety crawls up my throat. Zeb was part of his team, already in danger.
I slip around the side of the vehicle, trying to act inconspicuous so I can get closer and eavesdrop. There are a few healers here. Those allocated to units. I’m hoping my presence doesn’t stir any interest.
“… And they’re not going to stay grounded long,” the soldier is saying to Ethan. He checks his wrist device. “He was sighted entering ten minutes ago. We have eyes on the ship, but it looks like they are preparing to launch imminently, scrambling the last people as we speak. Jenda must be on board.”
Jenda? Is he talking about the infamous Uncorrupted alpha, who is responsible for the misery inflicted on countless dynamics under her orders?
Pieces begin coming together, disjointed at first, and then in a rush.
Jenda did horrific experiments on Ethan’s mate. The tic thumping in his jaw, his bleak expression, and the fury leaving him in psychic clouds are all the confirmation I need.
“If she’s on board. So is Zeb,” Ethan says coldly. “He knows the mission. He’ll get it done.”
Dear God!
“Unless he moves quickly, he’s not going to get off,” the soldier says. “Whatever they were doing here must have been important. The numbers they’re hitting us with and so fast… They won’t delay takeoff. Likely, they will abandon their own troops if they need to. He could be caught on the wrong side.”
“He understood the risk,” Ethan says, voice empty of emotion. “He will clone them.If he needs to, if he can find a good candidate, he’ll deep clone.”
Clone them? Deep clone?
Who is this man?
Zeb is on the enemy ship. Some kind of mission involving a high-profile, Uncorrupted doctor.
“Whatever it takes,” Ethan continues. “He won’t come back unless Jenda is dead.”
I stumble backward, bile rising in my throat.
“What was that?” I hear the soldier say, but I’m already moving, spinning around and falling in behind a troop of soldiers who are heading at a jog for the front line.
Instincts, fast and furious, pound through my blood. I can see the field display up on my monitor, cracked but operating. The enemy ship… Our soldiers… The battle lines.
Zeb is on their ship. And if he’s on their ship, then I need to be there too. I don’t know how I’m going to make that happen, only that I will.
Chapter Eleven
Zeb
Jenda’s lab is deep in the ship, past the containment cells, and past the huddling prisoners with dead eyes.
They got some of our people onto the ship, the bastards.
I drive any sense of anger down. No place for it here. Stay focused or this shit is going to go south fast.
Only, that focus is hard to come by today. Something is wrong. Off. An invisible force is pulling me in the other direction, a compulsion so strong, I stumble before I can right myself.
I shake my head.
Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?
She’s not here. Esme is safe back in our base, where she’ll stay because she’s a good girl, and deep down, her instincts will tell her to obey.
Esme
I’m still reeling from everything Ethan just said, but I don’t have time to worry about that now. The sense of separation is a form of sickness. Unbearable, consuming, one that cannot be ignored.
