Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) (40 page)

The second it took Farrow
to
look around the room was enough to put a deep frown on her face.  “What the
hell
is going on in here?” she growled.

“Farrow!  I’m so happy to see you, my dear!”  Dr. Williams gushed, stepping out from behind Creed as though wanting to embrace his former personal assistant.  He stopped short considering she hadn’t dropped her arm with the gun clocked and ready to fire.  He seemed not to notice the steel in her hand and just stood rocking back and forth in his expertly made Italian leather shoes smiling widely at the furious soldier
, leather gloved hands clasped behind his back
.

“Oh, Gavil, Creed and I were just catching up,” he grinned at the boys standing around the room as if he was the host of some macabre dinner party.

“You know, when Miro told me you were alive and had joined the Winters, I couldn’t decide if I w
as
more surprised, hurt or angry, but now that I see you, I can truly say I’m just glad to see you healthy.”

Farrow glanced at Creed and Gavil—trying to figure out the answer to her question.  
What the hell is happening?  Why hadn’t they killed Williams?

Feeling like this was a funhouse with mirrors distorting reality, Farrow didn’t know what to say or do.  
It was
Gavil who spoke next.  “Who’s Miro?”

“Oh, how rude of me,” he turned to Slider and said, “It’s time to hear the ‘music of the spheres.’”

Slider’s eyes blinked heavily for half a second having heard his trigger.  His alter, Miro came forward, taking control of the body.

When his eyes opened, they were changed.  Slider’s formerly amber eyes—a striking brownish-gold—changed into a dull black.   He was standing four feet to Farrow’s left and even she leaned forward to try to understand the blackness in his eyes
.  S
he knew this was no longer Slider. 

His whole posture changed, the muscles in his face
pulled differently.  The changes were subtle in and of themselves, but taken as a whole, it became very clear the man standing in the room was absolutely different.  When he spoke, the shift in personalities became even more pronounced.  A distinctly Russian accent came from the thin lips of the man formerly known as Slider.  He only said,
“I am here, Director.”

“Creed and Gavil Young, Farrow Schone, may I introduce my Monarch slave.  You know only one par
t of this man’s complex system—‘Slider.’
  Through diligent training and consistent teachings beginning at a very young age, Miro has become one of my most valuable assets.”

Creed stared, jaw agape at Slider who now held his gun rock still pointing directly at Farrow’s temple.

Williams sighed deeply and shook his head as though amazed and exhausted at the same time.

“You have so much yet to learn, my dear children.”  He walked casually to his still warm cup of tea and lifted the expensive china to his bloody lips to take a sip.  He hummed happily, savoring the flavor.  “You know, with more money than God, I could afford any tea I want.  I could even develop a new flavor if the thought suited me,” he chuckled and shook his head as he placed the cup back onto its saucer
. 
“
T
here’s
just
something about the familiar flavor of this Earl Gray.  Why would I want to change what is already so beautifully made?” 

He looked up thoughtfully at Creed and nodded.  “Do you see what I’m saying, my boy?  Once I find value and worth in something, I treasure it above and beyond all others.  I consider myself a very loyal soul.”

He flipped the laptop open again and sighed loudly when the image reappeared, visible only to his eyes due to the angle
of
the screen.  “Meg is beautifully made, Creed.  She is mine.”

He turned the laptop abruptly so it faced the others in the room.  Creed’s already pale face curled in anguish at the sight.

“It’s time for you to go, Creed.”  Williams nodded to Miro/Slider.  Creed tore his eyes from the screen and instinctively jumped to the floor, his gun moving with the body memory of years of weapons training.

Miro
shifted his aim f
r
om Farrow to Creed.  They shot simultaneously. 

Meg felt the pull.

She spun on her heels and sped back down the stairwell they’d just exited following her empath’s heart.

Alik had been watching his sister and was running right behind her when she took off.

“Meg, where are you going?”

“They’re down here!”  She breathed, taking steps two and three at a time.

“It’s just the lobby.” Alik tried to reason even as he leaped down steps himself.

“I can feel them, Alik.”  Her voice cracked with desperation.

They arrived at the ground-level
,
breathing deeply and spinning in place looking for a way down into the basement. 

“Let’s try the elevator.  Maybe that’s the only way down there.”  Alik offered, already hurrying on silent feet to the doors and jabbing the button.

Meg was right behind him, frowning with concentration, trying to feel where
the children
were.

When the doors opened, they saw
looked at the panel and saw a
flat space marked 
“B” but there was no button beside it; only a key hole.

“There’s a basement, but how the hell do we get down there?”

As if on cue, the elevator began to move, startling both Alik and Meg. 

They were going down.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do this.”

Meg sighed deeply and pulled her gun out of its holster on her waist.  “Evan, are you there?” she spoke into her comm mouth piece at her throat.

“Almost done
.
”
  H
e sounded winded.

“We’re in some deep shit, little brother.  No matter what happens, you stay back,” she ordered, sure the doors would open any moment.

“Where are you?” Evan’s voice was instantly angry and scared.  Meg could sympathize.

“The elevators are taking us to the basement, only we didn’t push any buttons.   Stay back, Ev.  I’ll keep the comms open, but unless I say your name, don’t speak up.  Got it?”

The siblings had played this game before, when it really was just a game.  Along with all their martial arts, explosives training and general survival tactics, the three had practiced using communication devices
back on their childhood ranch
. 

Evan sighed and said, “Copy, that.”  Meg could feel her brother’s fears and desperation to help, but pushed them aside to focus on the next ten seconds. 

“Alik, keep low, remember your training, I’ll take the ones on the left, you take right.   Stay back to back with me; don’t let them separate us.  Breathe slowly and deeply.”  Meg kept her voice low, slipping into her own soldier-mode. Alik nodded, lightning bursting across his light-blue eyes.  The vein in his forehead was bulging angrily.   

They moved into
defensive
positions against either side of the doors so when the elevator jerked to a halt they were ready for the doors to open.

A soft chime announced their arrival and the doors slid back with a soft whoosh. 

Alik and Meg wai
ted for a moment but nothing happened. 

Meg motioned for Alik to stay back and she risked a quick peek only to see an empty hallway that looked very much like those on the floors above.  Frowning she motioned all-clear and they slipped out the elevator doors and hugged the walls as they moved cautiously but surely down the sterile smelling passageway.

Alik stopped and motioned for her to scan the area.  Meg closed her eyes briefly, while Alik stood guard and sent out her
empath
feelers again.  It was clear to her. 

She pointed to a solid wall.

Alik looked between her and the wall, a question clear on his face.

Meg shook her head emphatically and held her hand against the cold wall.  The pull was definitely coming from there.  Surely there was another entrance to the room on the other side.  She walked further up one side, then tried a door only to see it
was
a supply closet.  She was about to close the door when something stopped her.  She turned back to the small room and placed her hand on the wall that would have to be adjacent to the one holding the children. 

A flash came to her. 

She received a crisp image of the last person who had touched the wall
t
here.  They were wearing a white lab coat and had just eaten dinner.  They knew to sweep their hand behind the cabinet to press
a hidden lever
.  Meg was about to follow the psychic directions when she turned to Alik and motioned for him to get ready.

He nodded and held his gun up in a ready to fire position.

Meg’s nimble fingers flipped the lever and the entire wall slid back and to the left revealing a huge room.  No fewer than twelve beds were neatly stacked against the walls separated by curtains.  In the beds laid children, ranging in ages from infant to eight-years-old.  Standing beside each bed was a metasoldier holding a gun to each of the children’s heads.

Meg wanted to scream.  The children were strapped to the beds, eyes wide with old terror.  A voice spoke from the room.

“Drop your weapons,” it said
ordered
.

For a split second, Meg wondered if she and Alik would be able to take the twelve soldiers before they killed the children.  She looked over at her brother who looked just as torn and furious as she felt. 

Just then a deafening boom echoed off the stark walls. 

The soldier who had spoken smiled menacingly at them.  “Oops.  I have some real itchy fingers.  This piece of shit is lucky I only shot a hole through his pillow.”  He jerked his head to the terrified child, no more than five-years-old, crying silent tears.

Meg slowly crouched; hands held up in the universal sign of surrender and knew Alik would follow her lead.  Once their guns were on the ground, the soldier scoffed.  “You know how this works assholes, kick them over here.”

The Winter children obeyed.

Soldiers swarmed the unarmed metas.  Their wrists were yanked behind their backs where multiple zip
ties were secured too tightly.  Their ankles were tied with just as much venom.  Dirty clothes were shoved into their mouths and secured with duct tape.  The soldiers taunted and jeered as they worked happily.

Meg didn’t know how long they were made to stay lumped on the concrete floor with guns held over their heads as if posing for a sick portrait.   Sure enough, Meg saw what
were undoubtedly security cameras
in the ceiling
,
pointing right at them.  While held there, both Meg and Alik had plenty of time to think about what may be happening to the others. 

Was Evan captured, too?  Were the others able to kill Williams?  What would happen to mom?

Meg looked around the room and tried to see the condition of the children strapped to their beds.  They looked frail and traumatized.  Not one of them made a sound. 
How did they get here?  What was Williams doing to them?  Were these the next generation of metahuma
n
s?
  

Just as Meg was trying to wrap her head around what was really happening to them, the lead soldier nodded into a cell phone and smiled wickedly at her.  All she sensed from him was evil.  

Apparently, the show for the camera was over—and now for the after party.

The soldiers walked deliberately toward them—splitting in half
—o
bviously ordered to take care of each of
them
.

The rage Alik felt at watching his sister hurt at the hands of those vile soldiers made him nearly burst into flames.  He watched them yank her up by her hair to stand, pressing their bodies against her lewdly. 

The soldier who had done the talking and shot into the child’s bed was taking sick pleasure at pushing Meg up against the wall with his body.  A scream of abject rage for his sister ripped past the gag in Alik’s throat when he saw the soldier grind his hips into her small frame and lick her face like an animal.

As punishment, Alik felt a blunt object hammer repeatedly into the back of his head.  Through the angry stars of slipping consciousness, Alik’s last image of his sister was of her head-butting the
guy
’s face and his nose bursting into a bloody mass.

These assholes
messed with the wrong girl,
Alik thought with pride just before he blacked out.

Meg’s fury could not be contained.  She saw the soldiers beat her brother with the butt of a rifle until he bl
acked out.  Her eyes
were
transfixed on his limp body a
s four metasoldiers dragged him
away
, scoffing as they carelessly allowed his body to thwack
hard
against
the cement
corner
as they rounded it.