to Lapier, Nian realized his mistake. But it was too late. The enemy was already inside the gate. As he spun to protect himself, a whistle sizzled through the air. Pressure lanced the back of his shoulder. Two prongs cut through his shirt to puncture his skin. An electrical charge lit him up, making his muscles seize, paralyzing him with the press of a button.
God help him. A Taser.
Complete electrical overload. The only thing that could render a Dragonkind male powerless. The smart bastards. They’d used his weakness to effect. No mercy or the slightest hesitation, the male hit him with another forty thousand volts. His body spasmed, tunneling his vision, locking the air in his lungs, stealing his ability to move. Unable to breathe, Nian wheezed, falling facedown on the floor as agony threw him over the edge and unconsciousness reached up to claim him.
22
Hidden inside a cloaking spell, Ivar touched down in the parking lot. Gravel crunched beneath his paws, scraping against his claws. The grating sound drew him tight. Worry took him the rest of the way, plunging him into uncertainty. Dependence on another. Not his strong suit. Relying on anyone when it came to his science seemed, well… unnatural.
A kind of cop-out that sat beneath his skin, irritating itch inevitable.
A leader in the field of virology and microbiology, he never allowed another to take the wheel. Or rather the microscope. But as the water treatment plant rose in the man-made clearing, standing alongside ancient trees, rising beneath moonlight, Ivar admitted that after two failures in his lab, Hamersveld’s idea held the most promise. The best chance for success, and honestly? After all was said and done, it didn’t matter who hatched the plan. The prospect of unleashing one of his babies—supervirus number three—upon the world outpaced his unease, jazzing him like nothing else had in a while.
Granite Falls, Washington. Everytown, USA.
With a population of just over three thousand, it was the perfect target. Rural. Picturesque. Nestled in the shadows of the Cascade Mountain Range, northeast of Seattle… not too far, but close enough. But better than that? The municipality was home to couples and families, a young community full of healthy immune systems. A shiver of excitement skittered through him, rattling the spikes along his spine. So much promise. So much fun. So much to do. If he could infect Granite Falls and get his virus to spread, then he could do it the world over.
In any city he wanted.
Humming with anticipation, Ivar bared his fangs. A bona fide test run in the wilds of human society. God. Other than fucking a female while he drained her dry, he couldn’t think of anything better.
Coming in on a slow glide, Hamersveld landed beside him. The big male wing flapped. Smooth shark-gray scales clicked together, and tribal ink danced, rippling beneath heavy muscle. Shifting into human form, the Norwegian glanced skyward.
The wren shrieked in answer. The terrible sound throbbed in the air, obliterating the quiet, invading his skull, slamming against his temples.
Ivar cringed. “Jesus, he’s loud.”
“That’s nothing,” Hamersveld murmured, watching Ivar stomp his feet into his boots. Gravel skittered sideways, pinging off the metal base of a lamppost. “Wait until you hear him in combat. He’ll bring a male to ground, completely disorient him with his cry.”
“Then gut him?”
“Pretty much.”
“Good thing he’s on our side, then.”
“Believe it.” Amusement in his gaze, Hamersveld raised a brow. “Are you ready?”
“Born ready.”
As the male laughed, Ivar smiled and, allowing his excitement free rein, strode between two parked cars. His new comrade fell in behind him, following him across the parking lot toward the front entrance. Brand spanking new, the facility was a towering example of technological advancement. Good for him and his plans. Not so great for the humans who called Granite Falls home.
Not that Ivar cared. The whole idea was to wipe them from the face of the earth. Eliminate the unending strife, the environmental reign of terror their race committed day after day… year after year. A few dead kids along the way didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
With nothing more than a thought, Ivar swung the front doors wide. The work of seconds, he disabled the security system. As the beep-beep-beeping settled into silence, he scanned the corridor. Not a human in sight. Perfect. Not that it would’ve mattered. Still cloaked in magic, the inferior race would see neither him nor Hamersveld.
Handy, wasn’t it? Invisibility. The calling card of his kind.
After a series of twists and turns through labyrinth-like hallways, past advanced filtration equipment and pipework, Ivar stood where he wanted to be… in front of a holding tank. Full of purified water, the contents were good to go. A mere turn of the tap away from being pumped into a human’s home. Unleashing his magic, Ivar conjured the hermetically sealed test tube. As smooth metal settled against his palm, Hamersveld stopped beside him, putting them shoulder-to-shoulder.
Black eyes rimmed by light blue met his. The male held out his hand.
Ivar’s stomach clenched. Time to pay the piper. With a nod, and a boatload of trust, he handed his baby to his new buddy. “Just like in the lab.”
“No deviation. A walk in the park,” Hamersveld said, his voice hushed. Full of reverence, the Norwegian’s quiet tone put things into perspective. They were about to make history. Change the trajectory of the planet’s future for the better. “I’ll infuse the water molecules with the viral load, magically fusing the two. Any human who comes into contact with it will be infected. Then we’ll—”
“Sit back, record the RO factor, and see how fast the disease spreads.” Ivar knew the plan. He’d helped put it together, for Christ’s sake. Had spent the better part of twenty-four hours testing the delivery method alongside Hamersveld in his lab. But now that he stood on the precipice, nerves got the better of him. Jesus. He hoped like hell it worked outside a sterile environment. Blowing out a breath, Ivar gave the go-ahead. “Do it.”
With a nod, Hamersveld pivoted. Leaving Ivar standing beside the holding tank, he walked to a large pipe running the length of the room. He stopped in front of a raised hatch embedded on top of the water mainline. The warrior unleashed his magic. Prickles exploded across Ivar’s skin, raising the hair on his nape as the airlock released with a hiss. Purified water bubbled up through the opening. With a murmur, his new friend controlled it, making it rise like a cobra from a basket. Plunging his hand into the wet swirl, he relinquished the test tube. Hamersveld pulled his hand free of the water. Ivar watched the stainless steel casing float in the waves for a moment, then cracked the cryogenic seal.
The microorganism entered the stream. Hamersveld bared his teeth and, unleashing magic, tweaked the spell. The deadly virus fused with H2O molecules, becoming one with the water supply.
Wonder picked Ivar up and carried him along. Finally. After all this time…
“It’s done.”
“No going back now,” Hamersveld murmured, Norwegian accent thicker than usual. Pride in his eyes, he watched the water retreat into the pipe. Metal hinges whined as the hatch swung closed and the valve spun, sealing the mainline. “We should celebrate.”
“Hell, yeah.” Elation tightened his chest. He’d done it. Really done it this time. Slapping Hamersveld on the shoulder, Ivar cupped his new best friend’s nape. A grin. A hardy jostle. A howl of triumph threatening, he asked, “What do you feel like, Sveld… Deuce’s?”
Eyes gleaming, Hamersveld gave him a playful shove. “Deuce’s will do.”
Fantastic. One superbug unleashed and on its way.
