Deviant Games (The Controllers #8) - L.V. Lane Page 0,59

your defective head," I said, ready to do precisely that when Woodrow approached.

"We're up," Woodrow said. He sized up Ryker. "A bazooka would be better."

A sudden explosion, and everyone ducked. Adrenaline flooded my system in a heady rush. The first-floor windows exploded out, then the next floor, up and up. Shattered glass rained. Everyone was moving and shouting.

"Damn it!" Woodrow said.

"Verity?" I asked.

"The door now!" Woodrow said, jabbing a finger at the sealed roller door.

No one needed to ask Ryker twice. He'd hefted the launcher into position on his shoulder, leveled it up, and peeled off two grenades while teams were still scrambling.

The roller door disintegrated under the blast.

The order was given—we charged in.

Several scenarios had filled my mind as we waited outside Masters Meats. None of them included flaming victims running at us, screaming. Random weapons fire greeted us as we moved through the ground floor of the building. Conveyor belts and assembly of meat processing machinery made a maze into which the crazed occupants ran.

They appeared to be shooting themselves.

Earlier in the day, Woodrow had been worried about losing the leads. That had changed after the explosion. A kill order was given. No one was to leave alive.

The first floor revealed fewer people alive and more dead. Blood and guts splattered the walls, floors, and ceiling. Fires burnt here and there, turning the bloody lumps to black tar.

Woodrow was at the front. Like a fucking warped bloodhound following the ever-increasing trail of destruction.

My head was ringing, my stomach roiling, and my hands unnaturally clammy. Not once had I fired my weapon.

I’d seen the Uncorrupted shredders make less mess than this, and I suffered a terrible notion that one might have malfunctioned and carved through everyone and everything in sight.

At the end of the corridor, a wide metal door hung drunkenly from a hinge. Blood bathed the room, dripping from the ceiling, splattering walls, and pooling on the floor. In the center of this carnage, two dazed, naked Omegas clung to one another on the floor.

My heart started pounding in the unnatural way I associated with a flush even before I scooped my little mate into my arms. The only time she'd ever taken my blood was during her heat. But something was wrong with her, and my body was responding. We knelt, crowding around her on the floor, drawing her weak body between us so that she might feel safe.

“Verity?” Slurred words spilled from her lips, and her weak hands sought to touch. “My father?”

“Woodrow is taking care of her,” I said. “And your father is waiting outside. We’ll take you to him soon.” Seeing my barely conscious mate stoked a surge of rage and further rise to my flush. Unerringly, her teeth found the crux of my throat and shoulder, and excruciating pain followed as she ripped into me.

The sound of her swallowing as she took what she needed stirred a primitive satisfaction. I was providing for her—healing her.

"She needs to take from me, too," Ryker said, an edge of desperation in his voice.

Bloody lips were lifted from my throat, and she turned her attention to Ryker. He grunted as she tore into him and staggered to his feet with her in his arms.

Blood poured over my form-fitting armor. We didn't have the little rough patch of skin like Lilly did, and when she took, she was literally ripping into our throats. A soldier arrived with two blankets. He passed one to me and gave one to Woodrow, who was still kneeling on the floor.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Turning, I found a young male Healer. Lilly growled her warning, renewing her savagery of Ryker's throat.

Ryker grunted as he took the brunt of her possessiveness. I waved the Healer away with a smirk—the blood flow had slowed, although it was aching like a bastard.

Over the top of Verity's head, I caught Woodrow’s eyes. "Weapons malfunction," he said.

I nodded. Wrath of god had sounded like a wild exaggeration back in the mobile command center. Now it was a horrifying reality. No wonder he wanted this kept under wraps.

"I'd say the weapon is working just fine," Ryker muttered, stirring a dark chuckle from Woodrow.

Lilly

We left the killing room along corridors that were similarly dripping with blood. After taking from both my mates, my mind was clearer than I might have preferred. Had Verity done all this?

Yes, I thought she had. Woodrow clearly knew about it and had been covering it up.

Good. I wasn’t a fan of the indomitable Alpha, but