"If he wasn't so rude, I might offer him a sip of synthetic blood." Phil passed the chips back to Austin. "We've got plenty in the fridge. But he hasn't even told us his real name."
"You will get no information from me," Hermes snarled. "I'd rather die than drink that synthetic piss."
"I guess he wants to die." Austin took the chips back to the kitchen area.
"Well, technically, he's already died once," Phil said. "He should be pretty good at it by now."
The door to the silver room opened and Phineas sauntered inside. "What's up?"
The prisoner glowered at him. "I know who you are. The traitor. Your time will come."
Phineas studied him with a wry look. "Oh yeah, I'm scared."
"Want some breakfast?" Phil walked toward the refrigerator. "We've got Type O, A, AB, whatever you like."
"I'll take some AB Negative. Thanks." Phineas sat in one of the easy chairs. "Can you warm it up, bro?"
"Sure." Phil popped the bottle in the microwave.
The scent of blood permeated the room. Hermes's body racked with a shudder. His face glistened with sweat.
"Here you go." Phil handed Phineas a glass filled to the brim with warmed-up blood.
Phineas guzzled down half the glass, then licked his lips. "Damn, that's good."
"So where's Connor?" Austin sat next to Phineas in the second easy chair.
"He's in the security office with Jack. They're watching us." Phineas motioned toward the surveillance camera above the bed. "Connor's looking through the Malcontent database to figure out who this Hermes dude is."
"I'm done," Connor announced as he strode into the room. He gave the prisoner a challenging look, then referred to the clipboard in his hand. "Hermes is Polish, about four hundred years old, and he fought on the wrong side of the Great Vampire War of 1710."
"Fuck you," the prisoner growled.
Connor arched a brow. "As you can see, his English is somewhat limited."
"What's his name?" Phil asked.
"Sigismund."
CHAPTER 12
Phil growled low in his throat as he unleashed his Alpha power. Because of his blue eyes, everything took on a luminous blue tint. His sight sharpened until he could see each vein in his prey's neck. Smell the fear emanating from him. Hear his heart racing like a scared rabbit.
His form wavered on the brink of an instant shift. He controlled it for now as he stalked toward his prey.
Sigismund pressed back against the table. "What—What kind of shifter are you?"
Phil allowed his face to change. His nose and jaw crackled as they elongated. His canine teeth sprang out. He snarled.
"No!" Sigismund fought frantically against his restraints. He shot Connor a desperate look. "Call off your wolf!"
Connor shrugged. "He's no' my wolf."
Phil halted in front of the prisoner. A primeval urge to kill swept through him, more powerful than he'd ever felt before. In the past, he'd killed animals while in wolf form. Werewolves always enjoyed a good hunt when the moon was full. And he'd killed Malcontents while engaged in battle. But never had he been tempted to commit murder—till now.
Sigismund extended his fangs in a futile attempt to defend himself. Phil knew if he drew too close, the vampire would snap at him. But he was seized by a murderous rage that dismissed any threat. His body vibrated with raw power. With lightning speed he latched onto the prisoner's neck with one hand. He clamped down, squeezing with his superior strength.
Sigismund twisted his neck, trying in vain to bite.
Phil sent a flood of Alpha power down his arm, and his hand shifted. Fur sprouted. His nails elongated and curled into sharp claws.
Sigismund's eyes bulged with terror. "Call him off! Call—" He choked as Phil's claws punctured his skin.
Austin moved closer for a better view. "Holy shape-shifting, Phil! Only parts of you have shifted. And the moon isn't even full. How can you do that?"
Phil growled. In his current condition his senses were all heightened, but with his head shifted, he could no longer talk.
"He's an Alpha," Connor replied for him. "He has powers other shifters only dream about."
"Damn," Austin muttered. "I'm glad he's on our side."
"Oh yeah!" Phineas punched the air with a fist. "He's big! He's bad! He'll blow your house down, sucker."
Phil snarled as the scent of blood reached his elongated snout. Blood dripped down the prisoner's neck where his claws had penetrated.