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“They can also warp the reality around you,” King answers.

“Like putting someone back in their seat with the seatbelt buckled like they never left the truck,” I muse.

“Oddly specific,” King raises a brow with a half-smile. “But, yes. That would be a lesser warp.”

“Lesser,” I scoff with a shake of my head.

I flip back and forth between Mike’s folders and my pages, hex witch for hex witch, mage for mage, psionic for psionic, berserker for berserker. The currently missing group of people lines up with the layout of the races I was imprisoned with. There are no werewolves that I know of, but a vampire when there wasn’t one previously. Wait, wouldn’t a shapeshifter count as a werewolf to a Human? There was no immortal back then, either. The differences are minor. The similarities are anxiety-inducing.

“They’re recreating their experiments,” I mutter with disgust. “Almost exactly. The only difference is the vampire and the immortal. What could she do that was special? Ugh, I have to go back there and ask.” I don’t want to go back to that club. Whatever Mitri did left a mark. I doubt I would be welcomed back, safe harbor or not.

“Go back where?” King asks with a frown.

“The club-”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Mal interjects as if he’s throwing me a bone.

“Oh, I won’t be,” I assure him sweetly with a malevolent smile. “You’re all helping, whether you like it or not.”

Ben enters the room at that point and places a kiss on the top of my head before he takes the seat next to Mitri. The fact that he can hear everything that has been said at the table means no repeating myself. And he’s being a buffer between me and my frenemy. It’s so nice.

“Oh, are we?” Mal sits back with a smirk and crosses his arms over his chest.

I toss my files to him, “Look at those faces and remember that some of them may still be alive. If they are, would you help them? If they aren’t, would you get revenge? Make sure it doesn't happen again?”

I know, out of all of them,he would. There’s something about Mal, like how hard he hides behind a mask of anger. He seems like the only one with a sympathetic bone in his body. Hopefully, it isn’t broken.

“I don’t need to look,” he growls back at me, fixing me with a level-five scowl.

“I’m in,” King interrupts whatever Mal was going to continue with, and I look at him in surprise. There’s a level of anger in his face that is more than I could expect. It’s almost like this is personal to him.

I meet his eyes and nod once. “Good.”

“There is something else,” Mitri says in his dead tone. It matches his personality perfectly. Cold and devoid of life.

Damn it, I have to stop that. Ripping him to shreds mentally will not get me anywhere.

Itwirl my first two fingers to get him to continue and pretend to study the paperwork in front of me so I don’t have to look at him.

I notice him place his hands on the table from my peripherals, fingers tensing on the surface before he speaks. He’s feeling emotional about something. Hopefully, he’s about to share with the class.

“One of the scientists still alive is Fyodor Makarov.”

He drops that bomb as if it’s inconsequential, and I suck in a sharp breath before releasing it slowly, rearranging things I thought I knew with this new version of truth.

Guess that answers the whole how ishestill alive question. But can an immortal make it out of being ripped to pieces? What are the limitations of their power?

“How would you stop an immortal?” I look at King as I ask.

“There are no known ways to do so,” Mitri answers, and his fingers flex until the tips whiten.

“It isn’t like being a vampire,” King lectures. “There is no specific way to kill an immortal. There are no steps to take or spells to cast. They don’t work.”

“There’s always the Bowels,” Mal says with a level three scowl. “I’ve heard that’s what it was made for.”

“Hmm,” I reply noncommittally and shudder. If Ben and I could get out of there, then that asshole would also be able to. He’s intelligent and willing to do anything toentertainhimself. The Bowels aren’t the best plan, but it could be reserved if nothing else pans out.

“The Delegates and Humans have been working together on this for a long time then,” Ben changes the subject.