Page 22 of Sergi (Of Blood & Dreams #7)
Chapter Twenty-One
When I arrived at the stairs after leaving Sergi, my head was down, deep in thought. The guard waiting for me slapped his billy club against his leg but didn’t say anything, assuming I was being submissive. There might have been a slight pause that I barely registered before he turned for the stairs.
Sergi thought he could bust through the loose bolts. Either way, the guards would eventually discover the door had been left unlocked, the wooden beam lying undamaged on the floor. They might consider one of the guards had helped Sergi, but I would be their first suspect. Until then, I had to focus on my work and not give them any reason to question me.
After I was handed off to a lab assistant, I followed him to the same lab as the previous day. My gut wrenched having to witness another shifter have their humanity stripped away. Where was that other shifter now? The last S-272 and I had seen of him, they’d switched the dog collar, for lack of a better name, with a metal one. The guards had attached two long metal poles to it and had walked him out of the lab.
No one knew what to expect from this new creature—half man, half shifter.
The second I shuffled into the lab, S-272 waved me over. I’d seen him sad, stoic, angry, but never distressed. But as I grew closer, it wasn’t difficult to catch the whiff of anger boiling under the surface. I wasn’t sure if the appearance of worry was a facade to hide his rage or if it was the cause of it.
I scanned the room. No guards were present, only the eight lab staff. The lead scientist hadn’t arrived yet, and the windowed room where the director had watched yesterday’s experiment was dark.
S-272 led me to the storage room and pulled out a bucket. “They’re modifying the serum.” S-272 handed me the bottle of cleanser.
“Why? They seemed pleased with yesterday’s results.” I opened the bottle and poured a small amount into the bucket.
“They had a problem subduing him. They’re not sure what set him off. He was being kept in one of the security cells on this floor and appeared calm. Sometime later, when a guard slid a tray of food in, the shifter grabbed the man’s arm and tried to pull him through the slit.”
“Oh my god.” The opening in the door was only tall and wide enough to slip a food tray in. I had a bad feeling where this was going, but I asked anyway. “What happened?”
“The shifter ripped the guard’s arm off. Even with all the screaming and the cameras, the guard bled out before help arrived.”
I cringed at the thought but couldn’t muster up remorse for the dead guard. Not after all the shifters who’d been tortured and killed. “What happened to the shifter?”
“They terminated him.”
That bothered me. Yes, he had been genetically changed, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be reversed. I wasn’t a scientist and didn’t know that for sure, but had anybody even tried?
“How do you know this?”
“They asked me to clean the lab where they performed the autopsy.”
He didn’t have to say anymore. The staff ignored us. We were such good little doggies.
I lifted the bucket into a sink and filled it with water. How much longer could we allow this to go on?
We had cleaned the floors and were working on the cabinets when S-272 asked, “What of the vampire prisoner?”
I told him of his torture and the Magic Poppy. “From what Sergi, that’s the vampire’s name, has told me, the drug is highly addictive and meant to force his beast out.”
S-272 paled. “Is that what the blood was for?”
I glanced at the lab assistants, who were too busy with their noses in their computers to care about us. “What do you mean?”
He quietly snorted. “You think I didn’t see you steal blood vials from the lab?”
Well, damn. I thought he might have seen me, but he’d never said anything. “I thought it might help him fight the drug.”
“Did it?”
I shrugged and sprayed a countertop then wiped it down. “Sergi seemed to think so, especially with the vial of Blood Poppy you gave me.
“This Blood Poppy will cure him?”
“Enough to calm the beast.” I didn’t want to mention the beast appeared to settle when he’d caught my scent, which was before Sergi drank the Blood Poppy. I wasn’t sure what to make of that myself.
“Did you tell him about the door?”
“Yes.” When I hesitated as if I had something more to say, he grabbed my wrist.
“This isn’t a game.”
Whatever I was going to say next flew out the proverbial window. My eyes widened at his touch.
He’d never touched me before, other than our arms or legs occasionally connecting as we watched the experiments. He might have grabbed my sleeve, but never a skin-on-skin touch. Now I knew why. I’d misunderstood the energy I’d felt, believing it to stem from his anger or horror.
Did the guards know? That didn’t seem possible with the responsibilities S-272 had been given, or did they believe they’d broken him?
Yet, I hadn’t sensed it until now. His simple touch sent unmistakable tingles through me that called to my wolf, and there was no other explanation.
S-272 was an Alpha.
Alex. Was that short for something? Alexandra, perhaps? Protector of men, as some remembered the meaning behind the name. It was fitting.
After she left, Sergi closed his eyes and relished the aftertaste of the Blood Poppy. Now he understood the internal battle Devon faced when dosed with the Magic Poppy, and Cressa’s recovery time when she’d drunk Colantha’s juice. And neither had proven to have much Blood Poppy in it.
He didn’t know if the volume in the two vials Alex had given him was more than what was typically used when blended in other concoctions. All he was aware of was the extra vigor that coursed through him as the Blood Poppy interacted with his blood. The BP-X she’d given him had tasted more alluring than the first vial. More potent. He wanted more of it, and he hoped the addictive properties would wear off long before his energy did.
First things first.
He flexed the muscles in his arms and fisted and unfisted his hands several times. Rather than trying to free one arm at a time, he tightened his muscles and, straining against the metal band across his chest, pulled his arms away from the wall. After a few seconds, he stopped. The bolts had loosened. One more time, maybe two, and his arms would be free.
He relaxed his muscles and glanced at the door, listening for the guard. The only noise came from the constant drips of water he’d been listening to since the first time he woke in the cell. He bunched his muscles again and strained as he pulled on his arms. After a brief attempt, he stopped. He jiggled the bands, doing his best to loosen the bolts more before making his third attempt.
With a huge intake of breath, he flexed and pulled. His face grew hot and was most assuredly red from effort as spittle flew from his mouth. Without warning, and with the last of his breath leaving his lungs, the bolts fell away, and his arms dropped to his sides.
He leaned his head against the wall and breathed out a slow breath, allowing his muscles to relax. If he had the time, he’d rest longer, but that wasn’t an option. The guard and Gheata only visited in the mornings, but earlier, Gheata had mentioned the director wanting to pay him a visit, which sounded like this afternoon. While he’d like to meet the director, this wasn’t the time or place.
He repositioned what little footing he had and pressed his hands on the wall as he pushed his body forward. There was a slight give but nothing more. He changed tactics, and though it was a bit awkward, he fingered the bolts, working them back and forth until he was able to pull them out of the wall. There was still one bolt remaining when he ripped the band from the wall and threw it across the room.
Once he was free, he fell to the ground. His legs cramped, and he grimaced as he fought through it. Once the cramps had eased, he bent each leg until he had control of motion and was able to flex his feet and wiggle his toes.
He used the wall to stand and leaned against it as he considered his next move. He couldn’t escape through the back door Alex told him about without taking evidence with him. And he had to find Carlos, who was supposed to be on this same level. She’d told him the doors on this level were only locked with wood beams, so it shouldn’t be difficult to extricate him.
Before he made the attempt to break out, he stopped at the table and drank the water in one long gulp. He wiped his mouth and checked the cooler. Only two vials of blood left, but they’d have to do until he found something fresher. While the blood settled, he stared at the torture instruments spread across the table. He’d like to take them all, but he was currently naked, so no pockets. He grabbed two daggers and faced the door.
He shook out his arms and called on the beast. It was dangerous with the beast so close to the surface, but he had little choice.
He took several steps back and, leading with his left shoulder, stormed the door. Wood shattered, and he flew through it and, unable to stop his momentum, slammed into the stone wall. He shook his head, surprised he was able to burst through the wood beam on the first try.
When he glanced down the hallway to see if anyone was coming, he understood why he’d broken through the door so easily. The beam lay on the floor next to the open doorway. Alex hadn’t barred the door.
He grinned in appreciation. If he hadn’t escaped from his cell, she would likely have gotten a beating for her carelessness. She was more daring than he’d thought. A true warrior. Her name more fitting with each courageous action she revealed.
He pushed to his feet and gave his body a quick once over. A few cuts and scrapes from splinters, but nothing else was damaged. With daggers still gripped in his fists, he raced to the end of the hallway.
Alex mentioned the guard’s quarters were on the far side of this level. Her guard had suggested she wouldn’t get her lunch when she’d been late with the cleaning. That meant it was lunchtime, and most of the guards should be on break. He required clothing, so he had to take the risk. While he could resist cold weather, he wasn’t going to traverse the Carpathian Mountains naked.
He strolled by the cells. Most of the doors weren’t barred. The wood beams lay useless on the floor. Others had bars across the doors, reflecting prisoners inside. He moved passed them, wanting to keep his escape unknown for as long as possible. When the walls changed from stone to drywall, he slowed and peered around the first corner.
Two guards, one laughing at whatever the other one said, were headed in his direction. He raced back the way he’d come and ducked into the first unbarred cell he came to. He closed the door and leaned against it.
He heard the stomping of boots, but they stopped a few feet from the cell he was hiding in.
“Let me check these cells, then we can get lunch.”
One pair of boots continued on, and he heard the slam of something hitting the door. A billy club, like the one the guard who came with Gheata gripped tightly while Sergi was tortured. Not as deadly or incapacitating as a dagger, but it was a worthy weapon.
The guards should pass by him, assuming the roaming guard didn’t check his cell with a broken door lying in pieces across the floor. It was two hallways away, and all the cells in between had been empty. With any luck, this was a lazy guard.
Within a few minutes, the guard returned. “We’re good. I hear they’re having roast beef and mashed potatoes.”
The other guard chuckled. “A new shipment must have arrived. That must be where the other guards went.”
“Thank the gods, we didn’t get that duty.”
They laughed as they continued on, passing the cell he was in without a pause. Sergi hadn’t passed stairs or an elevator so the guards must be heading for a different hallway. A couple of minutes ticked by before he felt it safe enough to move.
He returned to the hallway where he’d first seen the guards and, not hearing anyone else, checked the first door he came to and found it unlocked. Rather than using stealth, he charged in, quickly scanning the room, prepared for a fight, but it was empty.
A simple bunk room he’d seen before. They were similar to the security rooms House Trelane provided at the safe houses. The occupant kept the place orderly with minimal decor. A bed, a table with two chairs, a dresser, and a desk with another chair. There was a counter with a sink and a small single-serve coffee maker. A compact fridge fit between the counter and the wall.
He opened the dresser and found a pair of pants. He held them up. The guards who’d come to his cell had been about his size. Most of them would be big men with lots of muscle.
He slipped on the pants, which fit well enough, and pulled out a shirt. The sleeves were an inch too short, but the shoulders fit. He found socks and a pair of boots that were too tight. He left the shoes and, peering into the hall, ran to the next room.
It was also unoccupied, and the boots fit. He tied them and glanced around for other weapons. Nothing. He found an empty weapons belt, probably a spare, and slid the daggers in before leaving the room.
It was deathly quiet in the hallways, and he could only assume the guards were at lunch or on assignment on a different level.
His next task was to search for the door Alex told him about. He found it faster than he expected, even if it had been buried behind shelving. It must have been decades since it had last been opened, and it required the closest thing to a prybar he could find to muscle it open.
Cold air blasted him in the face as he stared at a dark tunnel. He raced down it, a slight breeze blowing in, and when he turned a corner, light reflected the rough stone walls. The tunnel made another two turns before he found the exit. There was no door, and vegetation had grown over the opening. He pushed through it and scanned the forest beyond. It was a way out.
Without another thought, he ran back into the building and shut the door. He had a few tasks to take care of before he left. And he wouldn’t leave Alex behind. The thought had popped into his head, and he didn’t question it. She’d dared her own life to save his. He wouldn’t leave her to whatever his escape would cost her.
Other emotions bubbled up and were instantly squashed, but the memory of her warm fingers as they traced his tattoos heated his skin. The heinous experiments she described and the image of someone leading her to one of the metal cages as another test subject made his blood boil. And she’d said the experiments were continuing. How many would die before Devon mounted a rescue?
He wouldn’t consider escaping without Alex, but he wasn’t sure of the best way to protect the rest of the shifters until Devon arrived. Then a crazy thought came to him. Something Carlos could assist with. The least he could do, after all, was give them a fighting chance.
He retraced his steps to the first of the barred cells. The wooden beam lifted easily, and Sergi dropped it next to the door. He opened it slowly, unsure how the shifter would react to seeing him dressed as a guard.
The shifter was curled up in a corner. His clothing was filthy and mottled with stains. He kept his head lowered but lifted it enough to see who’d entered. Sergi held his hands out. “You might not believe this, but I’m a friend. I’ve been sent by Remus, The Wolf, to help you escape.”
Nothing changed in the shifter’s posture until he heard mention of The Wolf. His head lifted higher, but when he got a better view of Sergi and noted the guard attire, his body curled tighter, and he shook his head.
“Look. We don’t have much time. Yes. I’m vampire. I’m cadre sent on a mission to discover what’s been happening in the lab.” When mistrust shined clearly in the shifter’s gaze, he added, “I was also a captive.” He opened his shirt to show the recent scars that to his surprise looked better than they did an hour ago. His evidence didn’t appear as convincing as it once had. “Alex—you might know her as S-473—helped me escape.”
The shifter’s eyes widened at the mention of Alex, or more correctly, by her assigned number.
“We have little time, and I need help letting the other shifters out. It would be faster if they saw a fellow shifter opening the door. I can’t promise that you’ll survive, but do you want to die in one of their experiments or die fighting for your freedom?”
That did the trick.
The shifter pushed himself up and took a few steps. “Some of them will be chained in their rooms.”
Sergi swore under his breath. “I assume the guards have the keys.”
The shifter nodded and stood a little straighter. “Yes. But some of these shifters are wilder than most.”
Sergi grinned, letting the tips of his fangs show. “All the better, assuming they won’t attack you.”
“There’s a room where they keep their weapons. I think the keys are there.” He glanced at the floor, then shrugged. “At least, I saw a board with keys on it. They might work on the chains.”
“Is it on this level?”
He nodded.
“Show me. Then we’ll let the others out.”
Sergi followed the shifter toward the guards’ quarters. He turned right when they reached the corridor where Sergi had turned left in his search for clothing. The shifter stopped at the second door with a nameplate that read security.
The shifter waited to ensure Sergi was behind him before he opened the door on a surprised guard, who was watching a video feed. Before he could get out of his chair, Sergi shoved the shifter aside and grabbed the guard. He quickly stabbed the vampire three times in the kidneys with one of his stolen daggers. The vampire went limp and fell to the ground.
By the time Sergi turned around, the shifter shook a set of keys in the air. Sergi checked the pockets of the guard and found another set of keys and a keycard he stuffed in his pocket. They compared the two sets of keys and determined they were identical.
Before they left, the shifter tied the guard’s legs and wrists while Sergi scanned the video feed. There was row after row of cells. They all had keycard entries, and rather than stone, the walls and floor were a bright white. This must be the second floor. In one of the monitors, a guard walked down one of the aisles and slammed a billy club into a door. He passed two doors before bashing the billy club into the third door. It was a form of intimidation, reminding the captives of who had control, as if they could forget.
They left the room, and Sergi took the lead. The second door on the right provided what he was looking for—the armory. He grabbed a shoulder harness and transferred his daggers to it, then added a couple more. He tossed the weapons belt he’d been wearing to the side, but when he turned to leave, he spotted several billy clubs leaning against the far corner of the room. He picked one up. He preferred daggers, but a club to the head would work just as well.
“Do you want one?” He raised the billy club.
The shifter grinned, and Sergi handed him one before they rushed out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
Sergi led them to a closed cell door, and the shifter opened it. This shifter was chained to the wall, and he glared at them. His gaze turned to confusion when the shifter in prisoner garb ran toward him.
“Be calm. I’m here to release you. It’s time to fight.”
The shifter looked past his rescuer to stare at Sergi.
“I’m cadre and a friend to shifters.”
While there was distrust in the shifter’s gaze, the fact he was being released softened his expression. When the shifter managed to stand, Sergi handed him the second set of keys.
The first shifter looked at him. “You might need them if you’re going to the second level.”
Sergi shook his head. “If I do, I’ll find another guard.” Sergi considered whether he should continue with the plan to find Alex and the evidence Devon needed or stay to search the cells for Carlos. “I was captured with a shifter by the name of Carlos. I was told he was in one of the cells on this level. When you find him, ask him to assist with organizing your group. Do you understand?”
Both shifters, who hadn’t appeared strong enough to battle a guard, even in their wolf form, stood straighter, their chins lifted high. A red glow appeared in their eyes. Nothing but a glimmer at first, but as they considered what was at stake, the glow brightened into a look Sergi knew well—a beast full of rage and seeking vengeance.
Any doubt of their ability fled. “Get everyone out of the cells, clear the floor, and set up perimeters. I’ll start releasing the shifters on the next level.”
He shook their hands, but before he took two steps, alarms blared through the hallways.