He read it. Then he reread it. The first half was eloquent, but as he progressed, it worsened.

Malcolm had written it out plainly, as if he intended for Lance himself to read it one day.

The meeting with the man with a cane was miserable. It quickly descended into threats, and negotiating, I believe, was never on the table. His obsession with animals is also quite disconcerting… There was something in his eyes. An empty blackness that I have seen in no other person. Frightening, and yet so fascinating all the same.

There was someone with him. A young man, long dark hair. Beautiful eyes. There was something about him, as well. He seemed so out of place. As if he didn’t even want to be there. After dealing with that man with the cane, I wouldn’t be surprised. What was his name? Eric?

I refuse to tell anyone but you about this, journal, but I gave him a dose of the drug. In the moment, when the crazy man’s black eyes were looking directly into mine, and he was threatening me like that, something shifted in the room. I had a vial of the medicine with me. The nanobots, contained in a small syringe. It was the beta strain.

Originally, should the plan have gone correctly, I would have considered giving the beta drug to the crazy man and having him under Caleb’s thumb. Harnessing such a valuable source of information would have been crucial. Caleb would have been so proud, perhaps proud enough to increase my budget for experiments.

But the other one, the one with the emerald eyes, I stuck him with it.

The poor sap didn’t even notice it.

I thought that if I stuck the emerald-eyed man with the beta drug, he would be more useful than the crazy man, even if the crazy man is the leader. The drug can change a man, make them erratic and somewhat unstable. An unfortunate side effect, even if rare. Still, as unstable as he clearly already was, I could not risk giving the drug to him. The other one, however, was clearly new and unfamiliar. A shift in personality would not affect his cover, and he could obtain most if not all of the information the leader retrieved. A very dangerous risk, one that only Caleb likely would have made. I am no businessman, however, and being one of the few risky investments I’ve made, I pray that it resolves in my favor.

I can almost feel judgement, even from an inanimate object such as you, journal. My thought process at the time was unflawed. I thought with my emotions rather than with my mind. A mistake that I have made more than once. I do not regret what I did, however. At least, I didn’t until I realized I had given the alpha drug to the emerald-eyed man.

I find myself filled with a deep guilt at what I did. In my carelessness, I grabbed the wrong vial. Still… I cannot help but be intrigued by this new set of events that will take place. What will this man do with such power? A man given strength and endurance such as that. I wonder how it will affect him. Fascinating. Truly fascinating.

Perhaps it was meant to be.

Lance set the book beside him once he read those last few sentences. His heart raced as he stared at the wall. His throat was dry. Malcolm had injected him that day.

And he hadn’t noticed.

He was going to be used as a pawn to gain information from Eric. The thought of it turned his stomach. A puppet—he’d been a puppet from the very beginning. When would he finally escape from people in power trying to control him? He clenched his teeth.

Time slowed to a crawl, and Lance could only guess an hour had passed before he picked the journal back up and kept reading. At this point, the writing was a scrawl.

Could not fix it! Was taken in the middle of night by mysterious men. Could not fight like brothers. My strain of the drug was strictly to keep me alive, to heal all injuries. Wanted all my nanobots to focus on that one thing, physical enhancements aside. Hypothesis unfortunately correct. Can die… can be killed. Nanobots do not prevent decomposition. Very unfortunate surprise. Grateful to not have my journal removed from my corpse. Death not implausible as I wished, but nanobots brought me back, all the same. Body weakened from decomposition. Still mobile. Intelligence uncompromised.

Calligraphy, however, is appalling.

So little strength when I first awoke. Could smell my own rotting flesh. Worms wriggled inside of casket. Gnawed on my insides. Killed them easily. Nanobots attacked them. Did not help the foul smell.

Time taken to crawl out of ground, unknown. Bloody hands. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Could do nothing but claw hands upward until met with cold night air.

Hiding, now, in small crypt below the old church. Nanobots kept me alive. Did not preserve me… Failure, but also success. I am immortal. Not invincible. Can be killed but only resuscitated long after.

Must be careful. Should I be killed again… rendered unable… body will simply rot beyond resuscitation. Terrible fate, but must accept it to continue research. It is deserved, dear journal. Thought with emotions and not my head. Beginning to see pattern. Was not patient. Injected myself with experimental version of the drug… Grateful, for even if flawed, the nanobots saved my life. Perhaps… create a new version? Perfect them until they can not only resuscitate me, but heal horrible, rotted body parts? Can imagine it now. Nanobots working tirelessly to not only stitch skin and bone back together but create new skin and bone. Render me immortal and invincible. What a fantastic bout of research this shall be. Next project shall be reversing the decomposition process. I cannot wait!

Now, if I could only find some equipment… perhaps contact brother, Caleb.

What a shock it will be for him to hear my voice.

Must reach my office. Caleb shall take me. And what of the lab? I must gather the essentials.

The pages afterward were torn out, likely the notes for the cure. Lance needed those notes if he was going to get the nanobots out. There was no one left to do the research, but that didn’t matter. Not one bit. If there was even the slightest chance he could silence the beast inside him, he would take it. Even if he had to teach himself, he would find a way.

The beast did not respond to the thought.

Lance set the journal beside him for the last time, refusing to look at it again, even as the temptation to reread those same lines gnawed at him. Nanobots were swimming in his bloodstream. He couldn’t feel them, but he knew they were there. He grimaced.

Lance wrapped his hands around himself, not just from the cold, but from the sudden feeling that shadowed him, like he was infected. He closed his eyes and reached beyond the thick metal door.

The same officer he held in his grip was standing outside the door. His blood flowed freely through his veins, and his heart beat a steady, calm rhythm. It was a comfort, a distant hug. It felt warm, a wonderful contrast to the cold of this cell.

He ordered him to do small things every few minutes—cough, scratch his chin, sigh, even drop his gun and pick it up. The guard next to him felt the need to ask him if he was alright, as if he was being tested.

He urged the guard to speak, to say the words Lance wanted him to. A second of silence passed, and the guard still said nothing. His friend repeated the question, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Lance couldn’t allow himself to let go of his grip on the guard, so he focused harder and mouthed the words along with him.

Sorry. Never had saying one word exerted so much energy from Lance. The air drained from his lungs. Nervous.

Lance forced the word out and fell from the bed onto the icy floor. The soldier didn’t seem to hear it or just didn’t care.

“I know what you mean,” the other man said. “The guy in there’s supposed to be some crazy killer… Weird to think of him that way, though. He looks so harmless.” Movement, then a huff of breath. “Look at him. Lying on the floor like some broken little animal.”

Not for long, Lance thought. The beast purred in agreement, and while the sound was oddly comforting, Lance wondered if the beast had something entirely different in mind.

* * *

“Rachel.” The word escaped the moment the chief saw her. She hadn’t seen her since Caleb activated the drug at the police station. She’d positioned her somewhere within Landreau Corp to keep her safe. Now, here she stood, Caleb’s new choice pick for her. If he only knew what he’d done.

Rachel turned, her blond hair cut short to make room for the helmet she cradled at her hip. Her smile was a diamond light, and her eyes—disappointingly purple, courtesy of the nanobots. The shining cinnamon brown had been swallowed by the drug. Rotoya frowned but couldn’t hold it as she made eye contact.

“Chief,” Rachel said. A simple acknowledgement. Excitement shone in her smile, but she remained formal.

Despite being the chief, Rotoya felt lower in rank than the woman before her.

“What are your orders?”

Rotoya crossed her arms. “We’re heading to a bar I suspect Eric or one of his accomplices to be hiding out in. With the boy in custody, Caleb can’t track them himself anymore.”

Rachel nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

The chief suppressed her smile as she led Rachel out the back, marching toward one of the police cars. I hope you know what you’re doing, Eric.

“Would you like to take anyone else besides us, Chief?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Rotoya said. “If they are at that bar, trying to hide a whole squad would be too risky. It’s just you and me on this mission, Sands.”

“Fine with me.” Rachel grinned and fell into place beside Rotoya.

Sands. Rotoya was the only person allowed to say it. If any other officer dared to utter her last name, they were met with a venomous glare or even more venomous words.

Occasionally a venomous punch.

Rotoya had never asked why she was so sensitive about it. Never wanted to.

She sent a silent order to the six officers she had control over, telling them to get into the nearest armored vehicle and drive somewhere secluded. They would be needed later. Her nanobots transmitted the order in a flash, and the officers were on the move.

They slid into the car, and Rotoya drove out onto the streets, glancing in the rearview mirror. Her officers entered the armored vehicle and drove. Under her silent order, they chose a different street to travel down.

“I’m glad to be back on your team, Chief,” Rachel said, looking out the window at the bare-bone streets. She sighed. “The city’s so empty now.”

Caleb had done that; he’d reduced this city to an empty maze. And with his grip over Agni tightening as well, nobody would be called. No military, save for Daniel’s private army, which Caleb also controlled, especially with his brother’s untimely death.

If Eric only knew he’d done Caleb’s work for him.

A man with that much power and money was unstoppable. Rotoya ignored Rachel’s questioning look. She always held contempt for anyone with such power, yet she’d taken the drug and allowed her brain to be muddled by his words.

She only ever found herself doubting Caleb after that explosion. She owed Lance for that. He’d made her realize where her true loyalties lay. Granted, he’d done so by blowing her up, so the gratitude only extended so far.

Caleb would pay for his actions, the greedy fool.

Rotoya would pay as well if Derek was to be believed. She remembered killing Rob… shooting him over and over with a smile on her face. She didn’t blame him for wanting her dead.

Rachel kept staring expectantly at her, and Rotoya realized she hadn’t said a word in response to her comment. “I’m glad to have you back, too, Sands. How was it being ordered around by the big man?”

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“Never as good as with you, Chief.”

Rotoya glanced at her, a pang settling in her chest. How could she have let Rachel take that drug? Now, she followed the orders of anyone above her, anyone who had control over her, and she did so without hesitation. Mixing that with her already-loyal personality made her quite the threat. Practically a robot.

The chief reached out to her and felt her blood full of nanobots, thriving and breathing. A woman of power and discipline, infected with those things. I did this to you.

When the officers questioned taking the drug, Rachel had been the first to step up. She’d allowed herself to be injected in front of all the others, just to show them that they could trust Rotoya.

To be such a nice memory, it was tainted by what she knew now.

Lord, forgive me, what have I done?

Rachel’s nanobots swam around in her bloodstream, attaching to every red blood cell they could. All Rotoya could do was will them to self-destruct, something Caleb had taught her. She wished she could shut them down completely and give her autonomy back to her.

Within minutes, they reached the bar, where a streetlight shone through the windows, casting the entrance in a haunting orange. Rotoya parked the police car in an alley enveloped in utter darkness. None of Caleb’s scouts stood on the rooftops.

Good.

When Rotoya opened the door to step out, Rachel called out to her, keeping her voice to a whisper. “What are we doing, anyway?”

“We’re taking Caleb Landreau down,” Rotoya said.

“What?” Rachel said. “I mean, I’m with you, but… what’s the plan?”

“I’ll explain once we’re inside. Come on.”

Rachel did as she was told, and the chief felt nothing pull Rachel out of that car. None of the nanobots needed to force her movements. She simply did so of her own free will. Still, that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that her willingness was being ‘encouraged’ by the drug, the way Caleb had her thinking she was doing the right thing in working with him. Knowing for sure was difficult.

She gestured for Rachel to follow her. “I want you to meet some new friends of mine.”

She couldn’t let this stand. She would cure her officers of these damn nanobots if it was the last thing she did. A promise to them all.

But mostly a promise to Rachel.

* * *

Lance sat on the metal bed, his eyes closed as invisible fingers reached out to the second officer keeping watch on him. Time moved at a snail’s pace.

How long have I been in this cell?

Lance reached farther, grabbing at the second guard. The first one nearly slipped from his fingers with every attempt. He stomped his foot with a frustrated huff when the first guard nearly slipped again, breathing a sigh of relief when neither guard seemed to notice.

With a quiet, annoyed sigh, Lance reached out again. He felt cold emotion underneath the second guard—calculating thoughts, borderline paranoid, swam in his head. He focused on the nanobots within him and reached out. Then he latched on like a leech.

Next, he reached further, clambering selfishly for more.

Lance’s energy drained, and he lay on the bed. His head throbbed in pain, and his stomach twisted, but he didn’t stop. He climbed until the soldier’s steady heartbeat thumped in his ears. Resentment and bitterness took refuge within the guard, washing over Lance with a chill.

Lance stretched past those emotions and grabbed.

On the other side of the door, the guard shuddered.

Lance felt it. He forced himself to breathe. He’d done it. Sweat poured down his forehead, and the beast purred quietly. Even it seemed tired.

He had a hold of two guards. He’d done it, and now he would wait and see if Caleb noticed.

If he did, Lance could only imagine what would be done to him.

How did Caleb do it? Just this one man had nearly thrown Lance to the floor again. And just keeping them both in his firm grip was weighing on him.

Give in, the beast growled at him. Give me more room.

It could work, Lance thought. If he gave the beast more room, he could control every one of Caleb’s men, as far as he knew. The whispers tempted him. The soft growls of the beast became more convincing the longer it took Lance to catch his breath.

Still, Lance forced out a refusal, telling the beast no even though he wanted to say, Yes. Yes.

Lance’s stomach twisted as the two men stood patiently, none the wiser, and his energy drained slowly but steadily. He closed his eyes and accepted the sleep that pulled him under.

* * *

Rotoya exhaled, shoving the growing anxiety out of her chest. She straightened her shoulders and stepped inside. Rachel said nothing as she followed her.

“Kind of a shame,” Rachel finally said, her helmet secure on her head. “This place might end up burned down like the Rose was. I’ve never been interested in those places, but the guys always talked about how beautiful it was.”

“I have a feeling it will be again one day,” Rotoya responded.

It wasn’t a lie. Eric was well off even though he rarely showed it. Once they finally killed Caleb, she had no doubt he would make off with a good chunk of his money—if given the opportunity, of course.

Rotoya passed the barren barroom and entered the kitchen.

Nothing.

“I’m not seeing anyone here, Chief. You think they left?”

“No… no, I’m sure they didn’t.” She paused. “And stop calling me Chief. It’s Rotoya, remember?”

Rachel rubbed the back of her neck with an apology. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

Rotoya padded across the floor, her eyes scanning the empty room. She racked her brain for where it could be. They’d said it was in the kitchen but never specified.

Rachel clicked her tongue. “You said they were friends… I’m sure Caleb wouldn’t be very fond of that.” Her tone was playful, but Rotoya’s heart skipped a beat.

“And are you going to tell him?” She sent a wry smile at Rachel.

Rachel removed her helmet, mirroring the smile. “Not planning on it.”

She was speaking the truth. The nanobots did not shift, didn’t rush or slow down. Her heartbeat remained steady. That was the Rachel she knew. Even her eyes sparkled with mischief. It stung Rotoya as much as it warmed her chest.

Rotoya changed when she was under the drug’s influence. She enjoyed the chaos, the violence, savoring it like a warm meal. Yet Rachel was herself. Did that mean she wasn’t under anyone’s influence anymore? Rotoya wanted to say something, anything—an apology, maybe. A confession.

Then she saw it. A door, painted the same white as the wall, barely noticeable in the corner of the room.

“There you are.” She strode to the door and opened it.

A small set of stairs led down to another door. A smirk formed on her face as she shook her head. She called Rachel over, and Rachel wordlessly came to her side.

“Do you think…” Rachel trailed off, but Rotoya just walked to the door and knocked. She sent an affirming smile to Rachel.

The door groaned as it was pulled open, and Kaela’s tired face met hers. Despite the exhaustion, she wore a wicked smirk. “Plan going well so far?”

“Without a hitch, as far as I know. Invite me in?”

Kaela stepped aside and allowed the two girls in, but her eyes settled fiercely on Rachel, and her hand rested at her side, where she’d sheathed her knife against her leg earlier.

Rachel paused, her hand hovering over her gun.

“It’s okay,” Rotoya said, holding her hand up. “You can trust them.”

Rachel removed her hand from her gun and relaxed—almost too quickly.

Rotoya hesitated as she stepped inside. Bright chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and dozens of barrels lined the room on wooden shelves. The smell of wood and salt permeated the air. Kaela led them down the hall of barrels and took a sharp right, her steps clicking on the polished floor. Stone pillars marked the end of every row of barrels. The air was cool, but Rotoya’s nanobots warmed her.

“This is fancier than the bar itself,” Rotoya said.

Kaela smirked back, but her eyes held an inkling of hatred behind them. “Derek sells the barrels.” She sounded bored, despite her smile showing a wicked interest. “Mostly to clientele with more refined taste.”

Rachel’s eyes widened as she surveyed the room. “Damn, I can only imagine how good the wine is.”

Rotoya smiled at her. “Maybe I’ll buy you a barrel once all of this is over.”

Rachel smiled back, and Rotoya resisted frowning. The mischief was gone from behind her bright-purple eyes. Now, they seemed so… empty. But she’s still Rachel, Rotoya thought. She’s herself. She’s just being manipulated.

They traveled down another row of barrels, and after a few more sharp turns, Kaela knocked on a dark wooden door. The door opened, and they stepped in.

Gun racks hung on each side of the room, with rifles, pistols, and shotguns.

Eric was sitting on a wooden table and leaning against the wall, his cane resting comfortably in his lap. The room smelled of incense and freshly oiled metal.

Derek stood near the center of the room, eyeing Rotoya. His hand hovered inches away from a pistol at the bottom of the rack. His eyes moved to Rachel. Despite being part of the plan, two nanobot-infused people were currently stuck in a tiny room with him.

“Don’t worry about her,” Rotoya said. “She won’t betray us.”

“Better hope Caleb doesn’t take her back,” Kaela remarked.

Rotoya sneered. “Then don’t blow me up again.”

“So what now?” Derek asked.

“We wait,” Rotoya said. “Caleb will wonder why we haven’t come back yet and hopefully send some of my officers here to check… which, knowing him, he will, just to remind me that they’re not mine anymore.” She looked at Rachel. “You ready to take down Caleb Landreau and bring everything back to normal?”

Rachel stared deep into her eyes, and after a moment, a smile grew on her lips. “Hell yeah.”

Rotoya nodded then looked at the trio. “We’re going to have to update her on the plan.”

* * *

Lance awoke, the cold of the cell clamping its jaws harder on his skin. He shivered on the metal bed and rose, his hands wrapped tightly around himself. His breath turned to smoke in the air. Had Caleb made it even colder down here?

Beside the door was half a loaf of bread and a cup of water. He ignored them at first, refusing to look at them, but his stomach rumbled every time they crossed his mind.

He slid from the bed and crouched next to the food. He sniffed it, tasted it, then waited. The beast gave no sign that it was poisoned… and even if it was, with the nanobots inside of him, he likely wouldn’t suffer any effects from it.

The bread was gone within seconds, and he washed it down with the nasty water.

Lance sat back on the bed, shivering and checking his grip on the two guards outside. At any moment, he could tell the one with the keys to unlock the door and let him out. Having that option floating around in his head was dangerous. He could get out, but the plan would be ruined if he did.

Still, he rehearsed what he would do if he needed to use the key.

Lance didn’t have to wait long until that dreaded elevator sounded, and footsteps echoed down the hallway. How much longer would he make these trips before leaving Lance down here alone in the cold forever?

He latched on just a little tighter to the men, feeling the warmth they held within their uniforms. It helped more than it should have.

The door groaned open, and Caleb stepped in. He held a smile and eyed the journal next to Lance. A new officer stood next to him, and Lance worried for just a moment that Caleb knew. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Did you read the journal?” Caleb asked as he stood before Lance.

Lance reached out to the guard next to him, trying to find the warmth of his heartbeat in this cold atmosphere.

“Not going to answer?” Caleb prodded. “Well, I suppose that’s fine. I know you read the journal.”

The beast growled at Caleb, but Lance suppressed it. He reached out again and found the soldier’s heartbeat, calm and confident, in perfect harmony with the other two Lance held. He reached for it, made to latch on to it as he had the others.

“I’m sure you noticed that some pages have been removed,” Caleb continued, straightening his coat. “Filled with notes and diagrams to rewrite the nanobots.” He pursed his lips. “I’m no scientist, but it is an interesting idea. Fight fire with fire. Fight nanobots with nanobots.”

Caleb held an air of confidence in what he said. So sure of himself. Anger stirred within Lance’s chest, and the beast snarled at him. He used that anger to propel himself further toward the heart of the guard next to him. He stretched and reached with every bit of his being, his body aching in response, his chest squeezing harder and harder. He couldn’t breathe. Lance shut his eyes and held his head in his hands, pretending that he was about to cry.

He could feel Caleb’s smile on him. He reached more and more. His grip on the other two loosened, weakened. He stretched just a bit further. Just a little more, and he would have three officers to himself. He could do it. But just as he reached the heart, something crackled, like a tree bending to the point of breaking. His other two connections bent, on the verge of snapping.

The beast purred. Give me more room.

Lance didn’t shake his head, not in front of Caleb. He sobbed in his hands, as convincingly as he could manage.

Again, the beast purred. More room. Give me more room.

Lance refused.

More!

“No.” Lance forced himself to look at Caleb as he said it. The threat, the quiet calm in his own voice nearly scared him.

Caleb narrowed his eyes, and the guard tensed. Lance could feel it but couldn’t reach him, couldn’t control him, not without losing one or both of the others.

“No?” Caleb replied. “I find myself very intrigued by you, Lance. The fighting abilities the nanobots have given you greatly exceed many of my trained soldiers. It wouldn’t be surprising, since Malcolm gave you the alpha strain, but you seem to be fighting that. The nanobots are offering you a gift, and you’re rejecting them. Yet even so, you can fight like the devil himself.” He cocked his head to the side. “Just imagine how powerful you’d be if you stopped fighting.”

Lance looked down again.

“You’ve left me with a difficult decision, Lance. You have too much potential for me to kill you. It would be a complete waste of your abilities. But I can’t let you work for me either, not willingly. You’re too loyal to your father for that.” He crouched and met Lance’s eyes. “So here’s what I’m going to do.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve thought about your deal. Here’s my counteroffer… You tell me where Eric is, and I’ll cure you of these nanobots. You won’t have to fight them anymore. Or… I can inject you with the beta strain like I did the chief of police and make you kill Eric yourself.”

“You’re lying,” Lance said. “There is no cure.”

Caleb chuckled. “Not yet, but I’ll have one made just for you. I may have jumped the gun on killing Malcolm. Oh well.”

A moment of silence passed between them, in which Lance pathetically reached for the soldier’s heart again. He didn’t even get close. Exhaustion weighed him down, and despite the cold, the metal bed called to him.

“But don’t you worry, Lance. I have someone special using Malcolm’s notes to research it. In fact, he’s in one of these very cells.”

He had to be lying. Lance stared into Caleb’s devilish eyes. No playful wickedness like Eric’s—nothing but sheer corruption.

Caleb continued, “I haven’t gotten my R&D team on it yet. They aren’t exactly ‘in the know’ about this whole nanobots business.”

Lance let out a bitter laugh. “Surprised you haven’t drugged them too.”

“Say… that’s not a half-bad idea, Lance.” His smile was too wide to be real. “Problem is, Malcolm only made a handful of extra doses besides the ones needed for Daniel’s men and the police force.” He sighed. “But that’s okay. I have other plans for those anyway.”

He really likes to ramble.

The beast purred in agreement.

Caleb extended his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Lance glared at him. “How do I know you’ll keep your end of the deal?”

“You don’t.” Caleb smiled. “But it’s either that or die. I’ll throw in a bonus. Kaela and Derek? Did I get their names right? I’ll spare them too. But you leave this city and never return.”

Lance hesitated then inched his hand toward Caleb’s. He gripped it in a firm shake, and Caleb’s smile settled into a more relaxed state.

“They’re at a bar,” Lance said. “Derek’s Bar. It’s the closest one to the Rose you burned down.” He swallowed, the fear catching his throat. He was in too deep to doubt now.

“You have my word that Derek and Kaela will be spared.” Caleb stood and made to leave. “I’ll bring them here. You’ll all be imprisoned for a time, but I’ll see about getting you nicer cells. Warmer, too. Once you have your cure and the city has settled down, you’ll be set free.”

“Caleb,” Lance said. The beast stirred in him, and Caleb’s eyes flashed with excitement. “If you double cross me… I’ll stop fighting it.” He let a pause rest between them. “You’ll get to find out firsthand just how much potential I really have.”

Caleb snorted. “Dramatic, just like your father. Don’t worry. I don’t back down from a good deal.” He took a step away from the door. “But if I find out this is some elaborate trap, I have a nice, healthy dose of the beta strain with your name on it.”

Caleb walked out, the door slamming behind him. Lance didn’t let himself smile until the elevator doors opened and closed again. Then he huffed out a quiet laugh.

Lance reached out to the two guards at his door, checking his grip on them—loosened but not gone. Though he was already exhausted, he took the time to repair and strengthen his grip. By the time he finished, he lay across the metal slab, out of breath.

All he could think of as he closed his eyes was how things were going down at the bar.

I hope you know what you’re doing, Eric.

Just before he fell asleep, the beast purred again.

More.