Page 47 of Stripe Theory (The Matchmaker’s Book Club #8)
FORTY-SIX
P ain lanced through Alora’s shoulder as she landed in the maintenance corridor, her momentum carrying her into a controlled roll. Emergency lighting cast everything in an eerie red glow, transforming the mundane hallway into something from a nightmare. Her tablet chirped – three Genesis Corp teams converging on her position.
“Well, shit,” she muttered, pushing to her feet. “Because this day wasn’t exciting enough already.”
Her father’s data flashed across her tablet screen, the molecular decay rates accelerating beyond their models’ predictions. What had taken weeks in their simulations was happening in hours. Time was running out.
The maintenance level stretched before her like a concrete maze. She mapped out routes in her head, calculating probabilities. The Genesis Corp teams were moving with military precision, cutting off obvious escape paths.
Good thing she’d never been fond of obvious solutions.
Her earpiece crackled. “Dr. Sky?” One of Hunter’s security team said, voice tight with tension. “They’ve rushed Maya into surgery at the medical lab. The wound... it’s not healing.”
Ice slid down Alora’s spine. Shifter healing should have kicked in by now. Unless the ammunition Leeta’s shifters used was specially designed to not only injure but infect with who knew how many variants.
She reached the below-ground tunnels between buildings. Service passageways branched in multiple directions, maintenance access points offering possibilities. And threats.
She didn’t need enhanced senses to feel them coming. Three Genesis Corp operatives emerged from the shadows, moving with unnatural speed. Their eyes gleamed with telltale viral enhancement – Leeta’s “improvements” creating something between human and shifter.
“Really?” Alora backed away, mind racing through options. “I don’t suppose you’d believe I took a wrong turn looking for the ladies’ room?”
The largest operative smiled, all teeth and no humor. “The hard way then, Dr. Sky?”
Her injured shoulder screamed as she ducked his first strike, but she’d been studying enhanced shifter biology for months. She knew exactly how the virus affected reaction times, muscle control, neural pathways...
Knowledge was power. Sometimes literally.
She triggered the emergency sprinkler system, but not before tossing a vial of her latest enzyme catalyst into the water. The enhanced operatives’ heightened senses worked against them as the chemical reaction overwhelmed their adapted neural pathways. They staggered, disoriented.
“The thing about playing with evolution,” she called over her shoulder as she ran, “is that adaptations can be predictable if you know where to look.”
City infrastructure had never been so fascinating. Utility tunnels offered countless paths, assuming you knew which ones to trust.
With their connection, she felt Rehan’s mounting concern as reports reached him about the virus’s acceleration. Sierra’s condition was deteriorating faster than anyone had anticipated and Maya could likely die. The weight of what was at stake pressed down on her with every step.
The lab’s outer perimeter came into view, heavily guarded by enhanced forces. Security systems that should have protected the building now worked against her – someone had compromised the protocols. But they hadn’t counted on her intimate knowledge of the facility’s quirks.
“Time to get creative,” she muttered, pulling up the building’s original structural plans.
The chemical storage area connected to three separate ventilation systems, each with its own containment protocols. If she timed it right...
Her tablet’s readings showed alarming viral saturation levels in the building. Of course, Leeta would contaminate this building too. The containment systems were struggling to compensate, creating gaps in the security grid. She slipped through their defenses using paths only a scientist intimately familiar with the building would know existed.
Stay safe , his thoughts carried equal parts command and plea.
“Working on it,” she whispered, navigating through volatile compounds. The virus’s presence had compromised even the lab’s most basic systems. Maintaining sterile conditions while avoiding detection required all her focus.
The main lab was worse than she’d imagined. Critical systems failing, containment alerts flashing on every screen. Power fluctuations threatened equipment she desperately needed for the cure synthesis. But she had no choice. She had to make it work.
The lab’s emergency lights painted everything in an eerie red glow as Alora frantically worked at her station. Each movement sent fresh waves of pain through her injured shoulder, but she couldn’t stop now. Not when they were so close.
“Okay, think, Sky,” she muttered, hands hovering over equipment she could probably operate in her sleep. “Just like making cookies. Except instead of chocolate chips, we’re using highly unstable compounds that could literally explode if mixed wrong.” She paused. “Actually, that’s not too different from my last attempt at baking.”
Her tablet chimed with another alert. Genesis Corp forces had breached the secondary security checkpoint.
I’m fine . Though fine might be a slight exaggeration.
His response carried equal parts exasperation and pride: Your definition of ‘fine’ needs work.
“Everyone’s a critic,” she muttered, but his presence steadied her as she measured out precise amounts of the stabilizing compound. The formula had to be perfect - too much or too little could make the difference between cure and death.
Her earpiece crackled. “Sky!” Hunter’s voice was tense with barely controlled panic. “Maya’s flatlining. Her shifter healing isn’t?—”
“I know!” The vial in her hand trembled slightly before she forced it steady. “The virus is adapting faster than we predicted. It’s targeting the genetic markers that control healing.” She took a deep breath. “Tell the medical team to check her beta lymphocyte counts. The virus might be masking as normal cellular damage.”
His tiger’s protective rage flowed into her, lending strength when her own began to drop off.
The lab’s containment alarm shrieked again. Red warning lights flashed across her monitors as another system failed. At this rate, the building’s environmental controls would collapse within minutes.
“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” she told the blaring alarm. “This is hardly the worst thing that’s happened in this lab.”