Page 48 of Stripe Theory (The Matchmaker’s Book Club #8)
FORTY-SEVEN
M ovement caught Alora’s eye - shadows in the corridor beyond the lab’s reinforced doors. The enhanced Genesis Corp operatives were getting closer, their mutations giving them strength that normal security measures couldn’t handle.
Time for some creative problem-solving.
“Let’s see how you handle this,” she murmured, activating a sequence she’d prepared for emergencies. Though honestly, she’d been thinking more along the lines of chemical spill rather than enhanced-paramilitary invasion.
She opened the door just enough to throw a tube of chemicals on the hallway tile. She watched it shatter and smoke float down the hall, then slammed the door closed and locked it. The corridor filled with the carefully calibrated mix of compounds. Nothing lethal - she wasn’t Leeta - but the combination would play havoc with enhanced senses.
On the monitors, she watched the first wave of operatives stagger, their accelerated abilities working against them as their enhanced systems tried to process too much input at once.
Her phone chimed with an incoming call. “Please tell me you have good news,” she answered, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear as she continued working.
“The molecular structure is still destabilizing,” her father’s voice crackled through static. “You need to complete the cure within the next ten minutes or?—”
“Or it all falls apart,” she finished. “No pressure or anything.”
“Alora...” His tone softened. “Sweetheart, be careful. Your mother and I?—”
“I know, Dad.” She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat. “I love you too. Now let me focus before I accidentally combine the wrong compounds and make us all dead.”
His chuckle carried equal parts worry and pride. “Show them what Sky women can do.”
The call ended just as her monitors registered multiple breaches in the building’s security. Genesis Corp’s enhanced teams were sending reinforcements.
His tiger’s fury crashed through their connection, nearly overwhelming her own senses. The depth of his concern for her safety warred with his tactical focus, creating a tempest of emotion that threatened to sweep them both away.
Save the conference attendees , she reminded him, even as her own heart ached with the need to be at his side.
The cure component was nearly stabilized. Just a few more minutes of precise conditions, careful monitoring, and?—
The lab’s reinforced door exploded inward.
Three enhanced operatives burst through the smoke, their movements unnaturally fluid. The virus had changed them, pushing shifter limits beyond what should be possible. Their eyes gleamed with an eerie luminescence - a side effect of accelerated cellular mutation.
“That’s far enough,” Alora stated, positioning herself between them and the cure synthesis. “Unless you’d like to explain to Leeta why her virus samples turned into strawberry Jell-O. Again.”
The lead operative paused. “Again?”
“Science involves a lot of trial and error.” She shrugged, using the movement to edge closer to her workstation. “Sometimes those errors are more... gelatinous than others.”
The lead operative’s enhanced eyes narrowed, tracking her every movement. “Step away from the samples, Dr. Sky.”
“You know, that might have worked better if you’d said pretty please.” Alora’s mind raced through possibilities as she kept them talking. The cure needed exactly ninety more seconds of stabilization. Behind her, delicate equipment hummed through final processing stages.
The operative on the left moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between them in a blur. Alora barely managed to dodge, her injured shoulder screaming in protest. She stumbled into her workbench, sending equipment clattering.
His tiger’s rage crashed through their connection with such force, she almost shifted despite being fully human. Stay calm , she reminded him, even as she narrowly avoided another enhanced strike. I’ve got this.
“Leeta doesn’t want you harmed,” the lead operative stated, circling closer. “But accidents happen.”
“Funny you should mention accidents.” Alora’s hand found what she needed on her workbench. “I’m something of an expert on those.”
She triggered her emergency protocols. Liquid nitrogen lines burst in strategic locations, instantly filling the lab with obscuring vapor. The enhanced operatives’ heightened senses worked against them as the extreme temperature change overwhelmed their systems.
But they adapted faster than she thought possible.
A hand shot through the vapor, catching her injured arm. Pain exploded through her shoulder as the operative yanked her forward. Their eyes gleamed with viral modification, pupils contracting unnaturally.
“Enough games,” he growled.
Alora drove her knee up, channeling every self-defense lesson Maya had ever drilled into her. “I don’t know.” She twisted free as he doubled over. “I think we’re just getting to the fun part.”
Her tablet chimed - the cure reaching final stabilization. Sixty seconds left.
The other two operatives converged from different angles, their movements a disturbing blend of human and predator. She recognized the virus’s influence - they were caught between forms, trapped in a perpetual state of partial transformation.
“The virus is killing you,” she tried reasoning, ducking under another strike. “Those enhancements? They’re breaking down your cellular structure. Let me help?—”
“We’re evolving,” the female operative snarled, her voice distorting. “Becoming something better.”