“Peter would never do that!” she growled, her short, rounded canines coming out to their full length, her eyes flashing. “He said I’m special. He said I’m his most special!”
Even though Trevor knew it was hopeless, he opened his mouth to try and convince her how horrible Peter was. But she spun and ran to her cage, clanking the door closed behind her and reaching her fingers through the mesh to snap the brass lock into place.
Seconds later, Mahsood and Brand came in. They ignored him, instead going directly over to Brooklyn’s side. Brand was holding five syringes in his hand, each full of a different liquid.
“Leave her alone!” Trevor shouted, straining at the bonds. “Or I swear to God, I’m going to kill you!”
Mahsood laughed. “Clever shifter, getting the bit out of your mouth. Quiet now, or I’ll be forced to drug you senseless. At least this way, you get a chance to see if your friend survives the serum. You should appreciate that.”
As Trevor watched, Brand put one of the needles in Brooklyn’s arm and shoved the plunger home. The girl, who finally seemed to be regaining consciousness, convulsed a little but had no other reaction. Trevor shoved against his restraints with all his might, swearing he heard something tearing.
“I’m with the DCO,” he told them. “There are DCO operatives moving on this location right now. If you stop what you’re doing to the girl, you might just live through this.”
Brand looked at him in confusion, but Mahsood said nonchalantly, “If the DCO is coming, then I guess we need to hurry.”
Taking another one of the needles, he pushed it in Brooklyn’s other arm. The convulsions lasted longer this time and seemed more violent.
Trevor heaved again, feeling his bones creak with the force of his effort. He definitely heard a tearing sound this time and looked down to see that several of the straps were indeed beginning to part. But it wasn’t just his effort he had to thank for them ripping. It was the swipe Ashley had thrown his way. She had damaged the restraints more than she’d damaged him.
He shoved and pushed, slowly working himself free. But it was still too damn slow. He wouldn’t be able to get himself loose before they pumped more of that shit into Brooklyn’s body.
“Mahsood, what are you going to do to me and Ashley when you’re done?” he demanded.
“Kill you, of course,” Mahsood said simply as he readied the third syringe for Brooklyn’s arm.
Trevor glanced at Brand. “Are you going to let him do that, Peter? Are you going to let him kill your special Ashley?”
Brand eyed Ashley for a moment, then shrugged. “Special Brooklyn. Special Ashley. From where I’m standing, there’s not a hell of a lot of difference.”
Trevor fought his bonds like he was on fire as Mahsood moved the third syringe toward Brooklyn’s arm.
Suddenly, a barrage of gunfire exploded outside the facility, and the sound of breaking glass and bullets thumping into brick and wood was almost enough to overwhelm the screams of the patients panicking throughout the hospital.
At the same time, Ashley tore through the door of her cage, not even bothering with the lock. In a few incredible strides, she crossed the floor of the lab and threw herself toward the doctors. Mahsood ducked, and the insane shifter landed right on top of her dear Peter. The way she tore into him, it was likely that she was aiming for him to begin with.
Trevor strained again and felt the top few straps part. He shoved, then slithered his way out from under the rest, falling to the floor of the lab. His body was still a little sluggish from the tranquilizer he’d been given, but there was no way in hell he was letting Mahsood get out of here.
He pushed himself to his feet and charged across the lab, though charge wasn’t a very good word for it. Limped was better. He was still fast enough to get to the evil doctor scrambling toward the door with the three remaining syringes of hybrid serum in his hand.
Trevor caught up to him, slashing his claws across Mahsood’s right hand and sending the syringes crashing to the floor. Then he casually swiped the man across the face, opening up four deep gouges and sending him flying. Mahsood tumbled a few times, then came to a groaning, moaning pile near the exit door.
Brand was screaming bloody murder as Ashley tore him apart, but Trevor simply couldn’t give a shit. A part of him felt concern that Ashley might go after Brooklyn, but something told him she wouldn’t leave Peter while the man was still making noise. If the way she was playing with him was any indication, that would be for a while.
Trevor advanced on Mahsood, stomping on the liquid-filled syringes along the way. The doctor rolled over and looked at him through blood-filled eyes as he reached up to hold his face together. Trevor had never considered himself a violent man, but right then, he seriously wanted to tear this guy a new asshole…about the place Mahsood normally knotted his tie.
He was still a few feet away from the doctor when he smelled men coming. A moment later, three orderlies stepped into the room, their MP5s coming up to point right at him.
* * *
Braden and Dreya were still on the stairwell just short of the third floor when shooting started out in the gardens. Braden heard Ivy and Landon over the headset, calling out instructions and warnings to each other, then a god-awful screaming ripped through the air from upstairs.
Dreya was running that way before he could even think to tell her to stay behind him. Why the hell would he have bothered? The woman went wherever her nose and instincts told her to go. Nothing he said was going to stop that.
He hurried to catch up to her as she ran up the stairs, covering her as best he could with the MP5 he’d grabbed off one of the guards they’d taken out downstairs.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Dreya didn’t even slow down as she took one of the main branches in the hallway and headed down it at nearly full speed. It turned out to be a good thing he was right there with her, because if not, she probably would have gotten shot by the armed orderly who stepped out of a side room and aimed a gun in her direction.
Braden ignored the cop instinct to shoutPolice! Freeze!Instead, he lifted his submachine gun and got off the first burst of automatic weapon fire, stitching a line of 9mm bullets through the man from his left hip to right shoulder.
