Therian Prisoner(76)

He blinked then rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Three. Gen three.”

“But gen three is specifically formulated for undefined females. Why give it to a male?”

“Wanted to make sure it wouldn’t kill his sister.” He sat up and reached for her breast.

She slapped his hand away and sat as well. “What sister? Why was she targeted?”

“Heather Fitzroy. Like the Lashtons, the Fitzroys have been alphas for generations. Very strong bloodline.”

A yellowish green light burst within his gaze and he growled low in his throat. He reached for her again, so she shoved him over and said, “Go to sleep.” Immediately he obeyed.

She needed to think, needed to determine her next step. Roberto was burning out faster than she’d expected. Even the backers had noticed his odd behavior and put a tail on him. She’d snapped the shadow’s neck and tossed the body in a dumpster, knowing the backers would eventually hear about it.

Roberto moaned, drawing her wandering mind back to the present. Devon had seen Roberto. He’d escorted her to the Wyoming lab. If Zophiel used him as a mask, the Therians would blame her actions on the backers. Which would give her time to plan her next attack. But could she control him well enough to pull off one last mission?

It was worth the risk. She’d been spinning her wheels long enough.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood looking around for her bathrobe.

Nehema had been sullen all day. Zophiel wasn’t sure if guilt had rushed in on the heels of Nehema’s fury or if she was quietly searching for another avenue for her anger. Hopefully it was the latter. Vicious Nehema was much more fun than the worn-out old woman she’d become these past few weeks.

After slipping into her bathrobe, Zophiel walked down the hall and tapped on her sister’s door. It was barely nine o’clock. Surely she hadn’t gone to bed already.

“Come in,” Nehema called.

Zophiel glanced around the overtly feminine room and wrinkled her nose. Nehema hadn’t chosen the decor, but she’d selected the room. The house was a furnished rental. Like so many others, the owners had opted for leasing the property when they’d been unable to sell it. Knowing her sister wasn’t responsible for the hideously pink ensemble did little to soothe Zophiel’s restlessness.

Nehema was propped up in bed. A fringed shawl was wrapped around her shoulders and an open book rested on her lap. She looked so much like a sweet grandmother who baked cookies and sent handwritten invitations to bridge parties that Zophiel wanted to gag.

“I’ve thought of a way to rescue Devon without drawing Therian attention.” Subtleties were a waste of time and Zophiel refused to stand on ceremony with her sister. Either Nehema would help her or she wouldn’t. It was as simple as that.

“Are you sure Devon wants to be rescued?”

Now that was a frustrating question. The mindset of the “victim” had never bothered Nehema before. According to Nehema, Therian females were brainwashed from birth. They didn’t know what they wanted, which only made them more tragic and more in need of rescuing.

“We cannot allow them to create another Omni Prime. You heard what Carly said. Devon can continue to absorb animal natures until she’s given the counteragent.” She watched Nehema’s eyes, waiting for a spark of determination or hatred. “They’ll fill her with demonic spirits, one after another, until she is devoured by the evil.”

Nehema cocked her head and challenge erupted in her gaze. “You don’t believe Therians are evil. Why do you really want Devon?”

Now was not the time for Nehema to be rational. “I need a way into the new compound. The backers’ security is unbelievable.” That much was true, but Nehema didn’t need to know that Zophiel was planning a coup, not a rescue. Learning the details of the backers’ operation from Carly had ignited a fire in Zophiel’s blood. It was obvious they were too powerful to obliterate, so Zophiel would take control of them instead.

“What about Roberto? He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“I’m losing control over him. His mind was not as strong as I’d hoped.” She stuck to the truth as much as possible. Lies were always most believable when they were twisted around the truth.

“You want to rescue Devon from her family only to turn around and give her back to the backers?” Nehema shook her head. “She’s better off where she is.”

“You’re not seeing the big picture. Devon is a keycard, nothing more. I’ll use her to gain access to the backers and then we can destroy their operation once and for all.” Zophiel tucked her hair behind her ears, preparing for the performance of a lifetime. “The things Carly described gave me nightmares. I knew the backers were ruthless, but intentionally breeding an army of Therians is so… I can’t even think of a word profane enough to describe what they’re doing.”