Malfunction, page 25
He tensed his muscles, his gaze flicking between the two men, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting to see who would make the first move.
“Stand down, soldier,” Dylan said. “You need to listen to what we have to say before you come out fighting.”
“Then get the fuck on with it.”
Dylan paced the room a couple of times; it didn’t take long. He came back to stand in front of Logan. “Rico told us we had to make the decision before we came back to the Trakis Two.”
“What decision?” Was he being slow? Probably, but he had just been knocked out, so he was allowed a little sluggishness in the brain department.
“Whether you live or die.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of these two fuckers deciding on his right to live. What gave them the right? He scowled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and waited for Dylan to continue. Obviously, it wasn’t a straightforward decision or he was guessing he’d already be dead. Something occurred to him. “Does Katia know?” His chest ached at the idea that she could have made love to him, knowing that his life hung in the balance, and not told him.
“Are you kidding me? She would have ripped our hearts out.”
He could feel a goofy grin tugging up the corners of his mouth.
Dylan shook his head. “But we don’t take orders from Katia. We take our orders from Rico, and he’s not going to risk the whole ship for the sake of Katia’s fuck buddy.”
They weren’t fuck buddies. She loved him. But he decided to keep quiet about that.
“So do I live or die? The suspense is killing me.”
“It was touch and go for a while. We weren’t sure even if we changed you where your loyalties would lie.”
His brain caught on that one word. “What do you mean ‘changed’?”
Dylan smiled. He raised his arm so it was between them, and while Logan watched, it changed. Something shivered through the air, prickling over his skin. The arm elongated, black fur sprouting, vicious claws growing where the tips of Dylan’s fingers had been. It took only seconds. Logan couldn’t drag his gaze away. A primordial fear ran through him. This was the stuff of nightmares. The monsters were really real and locked in a small cell with him. He would have backed away, but he was already up against the wall.
Instead, he forced himself to look into Dylan’s face. His eyes had changed, glowing amber and feral, some of the humanity bleeding away.
“We don’t change people who don’t want to be changed,” he said. “It’s pack law. So you get the choice.”
He opened his mouth. Swallowed. Tried again. “Choice?” he croaked. Dylan raised an eyebrow, and Logan knew without asking again what the choice was. He could let them turn him into one of the monsters or they would kill him. “What made you decide to offer me life?” he asked.
“You saved Katia. You thought you were taking a bullet for her, and you didn’t hesitate. I think that proves where your loyalties lie.”
Yeah. His loyalties lay with Katia. Not with these guys or with Rico or the crew of the Trakis One or President Max Beauchamp. Just Katia.
“Do I get to think about it?” he asked, even though he didn’t actually need to think about it.
Dylan laughed again. “No.”
He wished he knew a little more about what was going to happen. He hated going in blind. And he hated the fact that his future was being taken from his hands. But it really wasn’t a choice.
He glanced at the razor-sharp claws and took a deep breath. “Do it.”
Dylan nodded. “This is going to hurt like shit,” he said, seeming quite pleased by the idea. He stripped off his clothes then sank to all fours. His spine twisted and bent, the bones cracking as they realigned, black fur flowing over his skin. And within seconds, the biggest goddamn wolf Logan had ever seen stood before him. It raised its lip, revealing a sharp white fang, and a low growl rumbled from its throat.
“Holy shit,” Logan muttered. Then the wolf leaped for him, and he went down under the force of the blow. Hot breath in his face. He tried not to fight. What was the point? But it was instinctive. And he pressed his hands into the thick coat, trying to keep the snapping jaws from his throat. The thing was strong, and he felt the scrape of fangs across his skin. His nostrils filled with the metallic scent of his own blood. Teeth sank into his flesh, and burning agony shot through his nerves, filling his body. He threw back his head and screamed.
And for the second time that day, everything went black.
He woke up once again with his head throbbing, but this time his mind was clear.
His throat and neck were on fire, and he raised his hand to touch the skin, expecting to find torn and bleeding flesh. Instead, he encountered some sort of bandage. He must have been out for a while. He rolled his head and found that he could actually move.
Adam was seated on the cot bed, arms resting on his thighs, watching him. He looked a little further and found Dylan still in wolf form.
He was huge, black-furred, but with an almost human intelligence in his yellow eyes.
He searched inside himself for changes and could sense a slumbering power. Waiting to awaken. “When will I…shift?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse and his throat feeling raw—too much screaming.
“We’re not sure,” Adam replied. “Back on Earth, the first shift always took place at the first full moon after the bite.”
“Er…there are no full moons on a spaceship.”
“No. And no one has been changed since we set off from Earth. Out here, we can shift at will. We’re no longer controlled by the moon. Though sometimes stress can bring it on—especially when you’re still new. The first time can be…interesting. Feels like your whole body is on fire,” Adam continued. “It’s not recommended in an enclosed space. So let’s hope we find a planet to land on before you can’t hold it off any longer.”
“Sounds fun. Any idea how long that will take?”
“None whatsoever. Everyone is different, and this is a whole new situation. But if you feel anything weird, you might mention it.”
Weird… Nothing about this wasn’t weird.
“You’re already stronger,” Adam said. “The wound in your neck is healing nicely.”
“How long was I out?”
“Twenty-four long and boring hours.”
Balls. What must Katia be thinking all this time? “So what next?”
“We need to get out of this cell and off this ship.”
“Actually, we need to stop the murderer before they kill again or it might be us they blow up next. How do we get out of here? I take it there’s a plan.”
“You call them up—tell them you have information about Katia. They come here. Dylan will do the rest. Just be ready.”
He blew out his breath. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Katia lay on her back on the cot and stared at the ceiling. It was gray like the walls.
Why the hell hadn’t they seen this coming?
Layla was one step ahead of them.
She had to get out of here. She’d tried the comm unit on the wall, but either it wasn’t working or they were ignoring her. Probably the latter. Though they’d want to question her about her terrorist friends at some point.
How was Logan? Had he woken up yet? It seemed like she’d been in here for days, not hours. Her heart skipped a beat as she relived the moment Logan had crashed into her. She’d heard the crack of some sort of weapon, and he’d gone down. She’d thought he was dead. And she might have gone a little crazy. Someone, or likely more than one, had taken hold of her, cuffed her hands behind her back. She’d not been functioning.
Only Dylan shouting at her that Logan wasn’t dead had brought her out of it, but by then, she was tied and helpless. There had been too many of them anyway and all armed. They wouldn’t have stood a chance.
The last sight she’d had of Logan was him being dragged away, unconscious, between two soldiers. They’d tossed her in the cell still in handcuffs. She’d managed to slide them down behind her, step over them so at least her hands were in front of her instead of behind, which was marginally more comfortable.
Then she’d had to wait. She just wasn’t sure for what. Something to happen.
For the ship to blow up?
Or Layla to poison her in her cell?
Finally, she heard the click of the door lock. She jumped to her feet, every muscle tensing. The door slid open, and Logan stood there, Adam at his back, Dylan in wolf form at his side.
She grinned. “About time. Let’s go find that bitch.” But as she closed in on him, she sensed a difference. Halting, she sniffed the air then studied him for a moment. A blood-stained bandage was tied at his throat. His scent had subtly changed, held a hint of musk beneath the metallic taint of blood.
She glanced at Dylan. If a wolf could shrug, then that’s what he did.
Shock blasted her in the chest, and she gritted her teeth.
They’d freaking changed him.
Why?
She caught Logan’s gaze, and he also gave a shrug. Way too much shrugging going on. She turned to Adam. “You turned him into a freaking dog,” she snapped. “What the hell?”
Adam grinned. “Just following orders.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Rico?” Adam nodded. She’d kill the vampire. He’d promised not to harm Logan. He was such a sneaky bastard. She turned to Logan. “You let them?”
“I didn’t actually have a lot of choice.”
“Hey,” Adam said, “we gave you a choice.”
“Yeah. They did. This”—he waved a hand toward his throat—“or death. I decided I wasn’t ready to die. This seemed the better option.”
She sort of saw his point, but she couldn’t cope with this right now. He was a freaking dog. Didn’t he know about the whole cats and dogs thing? It probably hadn’t occurred to him. And really, would she rather he’d chosen death? Of course not. But Jesus, a dog? She shook her head then stalked toward the door. She stopped in front of Adam and rattled her cuffs in his face. “Can you get these off me?”
“Aye. It just so happens I liberated a key from one of the guards we knocked out. Say ‘please.’”
“Piss off,” she growled, sticking her hands under his nose.
He grinned but fished into his pocket and came out a moment later with a key. A few seconds later, she dropped the cuffs on the floor and rubbed her wrists.
She headed out of the door and down the corridor. Logan fell into step beside her. “So you don’t like dogs?” he asked.
She cast him a look of disbelief. “I’m a goddamn cat. Of course I don’t like dogs.”
“You’d rather I was dead?”
“Of course not.” She shook her head. “Let’s get through this and we’ll worry about the furry thing later.” It wasn’t as though he could take it back. It was irreversible. Later. “How do we do this? How do we find the bitch?”
“They killed her family. Her daughters.”
Was he feeling sorry for Layla? Unbelievable. “Then she should have gone after those responsible. You don’t blow up ten thousand innocent people.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little…hypocritical? You all”—he waved a hand to encompass her and the two werewolves—“were guilty of killing off at least five thousand Chosen Ones. What makes you any different? Maybe nobody is innocent. Maybe Layla realized that.”
“She tried to kill us both. Three times. That makes it personal. And who knows what she’s up to now? I don’t want to die.”
“Good point. Let’s go find her. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Me, too.”
They’d come to a halt. Where did they start?
“We’ve got to involve Pryce,” Logan said. “There’s a chance he might be working with Layla, but I think we have to take the risk. We need to find her and fast, and right now we have no clue where to look.”
“Shit,” she growled. “I really hate that guy.”
“Me, too. But he’s our best chance. The captain cares too much for appearances. She’s never going to admit she’s wrong.”
Katia glanced around them, found a comm unit on the wall, and headed over. “You’d better do the honors,” she said to Logan. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“That’s because you’re a terrorist.”
“Ha ha.”
She leaned against the wall, arms folded across her chest, and watched as he pressed the comm unit, found Pryce from the list, and pressed to open the communication.
“Sir? It’s Sergeant Farrell.”
“Hand yourself in, sergeant. This can only end badly for you. If you surrender now, then we will not have to use lethal force.”
Logan ignored the words. “It’s Layla,” he said.
“What’s Layla?”
“She’s the murderer.”
“Are you crazy?”
“She found out that her family never made it on board. Their places were taken by somebody who paid to get on. So she killed them. If you check the shuttle logs, I’m betting you’ll find she made a trip to the Trakis Three shortly before the first murders.”
There was silence on the other end, presumably while Pryce checked the logs and the corresponding dates of the murders.
“It doesn’t prove anything,” Pryce said.
“She disabled the guidance system in our shuttle to prevent the investigation taking place. She was with you on board before we took off. She had the time and the opportunity.”
“That could have been a malfunction.” Christ, the guy was persistent. He obviously didn’t like the Layla theory. He clearly had a soft spot for the scientific officer, and it wasn’t hard to guess why.
“She blew up the Trakis Three to prevent us finding the identities of the first murders, because they would have pointed directly to her.”
Another silence, though she could hear the man breathing.
“We need to find her,” Logan pressed. “She’s got to be desperate, and she was hardly stable before. She could be planning anything. Do you want to blow up when we finally have a new home within reach?”
“She’s in the docking bay. I left her there only a few minutes ago. Bugger. If this is just to get your girlfriend off, then you’re making a huge mistake. Where are you now?”
Logan glanced around. “Corridor eight, section three.”
“Well, wait there. We’ll be with you in five minutes. Do not go in without us.”
The comm went silent, and Logan turned to her. “Do we wait?”
“Hell, no.”
She headed off at a run in the direction of the docking bay. Logan fell into step beside her, Adam behind her, Dylan padding along at the rear.
She skidded to a halt at the doors, pressed her hand to the panel, and fuck-all happened.
“Shit.”
“Stand back,” Logan said. She stepped away as he pulled a pistol that had been pushed down the back of his pants, likely another offering from the guards they had taken down. He aimed at the lock and fired a continual burst. The door slid open.
Inside, she could hear the roar of an engine. It looked like someone was about to take off. She ran toward the noise. The shuttle was still on the ground but was readying for takeoff.
“How do we stop it?” she asked.
Somehow, she didn’t think a pistol would be enough.
…
Logan searched the docking bay, looking for some means to stop the shuttle. He had a feeling that if Layla escaped, then things would not end well for the rest of them on the Trakis One. She had to be stopped. They had to find out what else she’d set in motion. She’d blown up the Trakis Three. She could have explosives set throughout the fleet for all they knew. She was clearly not thinking with a level head.
His eyes settled on the tanks parked off to the right, and despite the direness of the situation, a grin tugged at his lips.
He goddamn loved tanks.
If he could move one between the shuttle and the external doors, then he could stop her from leaving. He ran across, studied the machine. Where would he hide the keys? He reached into the turret basket and found them then jumped up onto the top and swiped over the opening mechanism, and the hatch rose.
He dropped down inside, and the machine activated. He swiped the key over the pad. The tank awoke beneath him, rumbling to life. He slid it into forward, and they were moving. Through the viewer, he could see the shuttle rising, hovering. He increased the speed and headed for the external doors. Stopped in front of them. Turned so he was facing the shuttle.
He opened the comm unit.
“Give up, Layla. You’re not going anywhere.”
For a minute, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then her voice came over the docking bay comm.
“Do you know what they did?”
“I know.”
“They killed my babies. I gave up everything so my girls could have a chance at life. And they stole that from me.”
Somehow, he had to talk her down. “But you killed them, Layla. You killed the people responsible.”
A shrill laugh filled the room. “Are you kidding? Do you actually know who’s responsible? Because I do. I know who killed my babies. President Max Beauchamp. Sold their cryotubes to the highest bidder. You think we’re heading to a brave new world. All we’re heading for is more of the same old shit.”
Well, hadn’t he suspected that all along? It made no difference. “Come on, Layla. You have nowhere to go.”
“Just away from here will work for me.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I think it will. I think you’ll let me go.”
