Deviant Games (The Controllers #8) - L.V. Lane Page 0,58

used at the restaurant. I woke up a few minutes before you did. It looks like they gave you something else.”

“Prevent me,”— I bit my tongue —“Using my gift.” My head felt heavy; I let it fall back against the wall. “My father?”

“I don’t know, Lilly,” she said, and it broke my heart to hear the tremble in her voice. “I’m hoping someone comes soon. Do you think they will come for us? They will, won’t they? I wonder where we are? It doesn’t feel like I’ve been out for long. I wish I knew what best to do. I don’t want to hurt any of our people… and the door is locked. I don’t even know what I can do about a locked door.”

I had a vague notion of her wringing her hands. Her words didn’t make any sense, but nothing did at this point.

She was a sweet young Empath who had suffered too much pain in her short life. She deserved a break. We both did.

With a click and clank of locks disengaging, the door swung open, and a woman in a white coat entered flanked by two guards.

White coats… why did crazy people always wear white coats?

They were not our people. They were Uncorrupted or their equally heinous minions.

Not again. I can’t do this again.

The final soldier turned to close the door.

“Lilly?” Verity’s face swam in and out of view, her lips trembling and eyes wide and fearful. “I’m sorry about the clothes.”

Then the sweet Empath opened her mouth, and the minions of hell spilled out.

Ethan

Security at the mall, which catered to the Chimera’s elite dynamics, was equivalent to or better than at the research center. How the fuck did this happen? One thing was certain, I was going to be demanding clearance to anything that might potentially impact Lilly.

I thought I’d earned my place. And since I clearly couldn’t keep my mate safe without it, I was going to raise hell until it happened.

We unloaded into a narrow street deep in the shadows cut between soaring towers. It was grim as hell with a hot wind sending rubbish billowing and grit swirling.

Although it was mid-afternoon, natural daylight couldn’t penetrate this far, casting gloomy, unnatural darkness. An age-worn sign announced the building in question as Masters Meats. Graffiti obscured half of it, spreading over the vast roller doors at the back. A few windows had been smashed, a few boarded up, and a few were miraculously whole.

The thought of Lilly being in the district, never mind this death trap, brought me out in a cold sweat.

The surrounding buildings had been evacuated. We had snipers on every vantage and troops front and back. Everyone still on the ground was wearing full body armor with additional flak jackets and helmets. All others were behind a rapidly erected bomb-proof barricade.

Woodrow's comments about his little Omega being the wrath of god sounded less fanciful by the second. He assured me Lilly would be safe and refused to elaborate on how the fuck he knew this. We all had our secrets. It wasn't my place to pry.

Governor Brach had refused to leave the site. He was standing beside the mobile command center safely behind the barricade, expression grim as he engaged in an animated conversation with an advisor.

A team of Alphas arrived with a pair of healers. I didn't know them personally, and their arrival only reinforced what was about to go down. And here we waited for everything to be put in place before we stormed in.

I'd loaded up with weapons; we had all loaded up with weapons. Ryker still had his head in the munition's truck, which was a worry. Woodrow waited near the front with a dozen special operatives, some of which I knew and some of which I didn't. He was on his communicator talking to fuck knew who about fuck knew what.

The waiting was killing me. Somewhere inside Masters Meats, Lilly and Verity were being held.

I turned around to see what the hell Ryker was doing.

What the actual fuck! "No."

I swear his grin was bigger than the rocket-propelled grenade launcher he was holding.

"We need to pop the door," he said, approaching me and making no attempt to put the fucking thing back. Who had let him loose with it, to begin with?

"Fuck, no." I thumbed in the direction of the munition's truck. "Put it fucking back."

His smile dropped. "We don't have time for a discussion," he said, sounding confused that I was questioning this.

"I'm going to break