Page 13 of The King

Out of his seat and around the desk in a flash, Max leaned over his sister's shoulder and read the words on the screen. Line after line of raw data detailed what Tariq O'Baoill thought he had hidden.

"Am I reading this right?" He asked, pointing at a specific section of an expunged record from a small municipality in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert on the Mexican side.

"Yes, and there's more," Sophia added. Pulling the carrot out of her mouth, she tossed it back on the plate and furiously tapped the keys. "Read the screens from left to right."

Page after page of information flashed to life on the monitors, starting with the birth of an illegitimate child precisely eleven months after the death of his wife. It seemed Tariq had been a busy, busy man.

"So, not only was he raising seven-year-old twins and amassing an army of Hunters worldwide, but thecabrónwas carrying on a relationship that resulted in a daughter.”

“Well, his wife was already dead,” Sophia offered. “I guess even assholes need company.”

"Yes, but why didn't he bring her into the fold from the beginning?" Juan Carlos asked from the other side of the desk.

“He did,” Max clarified. Scanning more of the information, he added, “This daughter was his contingency plan.”

Turning the middle screen toward his Beta, the King pointed to the picture. "This woman, one Pandora O'Baoill, although seven years younger than her siblings, was indoctrinated into their fiendish operation before she so much as took her first step."

“And named after one of the most misunderstood goddesses to ever exist,” Juan Carlos chuckles. “So much irony in one place.”

"Yeah, looks like her mom mysteriously disappeared when she was ten. That was when Tariq really sunk his claws into the young girl," Sophia explained. "She was educated at the finest boarding schools and attended the most prestigious universities. Looks like she took after her older brother and sister even though I can't find any confirmation that they ever knew about her,"

"It says here that she has a doctorate in human genetics, diagnostic genomics, biotechnology, and something called MCDB." Scanning the information as it rolled across the screen, she quickly clarified, "Well, shit, that's molecular, cellular, and developmental biology." Taking a drink of iced tea, she shook her head and added, "And if you can believe it, she also got an online Ph.D. in Cryptozoology and hominology, and non-secular metaphysics. Funny that someone likeher– an O’Baoill, would study anything even remotely related to religion.”

Turning to face Max, she blew out a long-suffering breath and sighed, "This girl just turned thirty a few months ago. How in the hell did she get all these degrees? The math just doesn't work. Unless…"

"Unless she had help," Max growled.

"Oh, I think she had help," Juan Carlos chimed in, suspicion heavy in his tone. "In the file you handed me…" He nodded towards Sophia before looking back at the paper in his hand. "…there is a copy of an essay she wrote to a publication of the Society for the Annihilation of the Paranormal." With eyes flashing the brilliant blue of his Golden Panther, his voice was more of a low rumble than ever when he continued, "There are literally assholes in every corner of the world."

“Si, Amigo, there are," Max readily agreed. "And we will deal with them one by one, but right now, I need to find my Mate before it's too late."

“Si,”Juan Carlos nodded. Clearing his throat, he read an excerpt of the Pandora’s dissertation. “I’m sorry. I just get so…”

“Angry, pissed off, outraged, furious, and ready to rip their heads off?” Sophia sing-songed even though her brows were furrowed, her lips were pulled in a tight, straight line, and the gorgeous face of her Pantheress was super-imposed over her own impressive visage.

"And then some," Juan Carlos answered with a growl. Clearing his throat, he then took a sip of iced tea before reading through gritted teeth, "In a world run rampant with all manner of grotesque aberrations and freaks of nature, it is our duty as homo sapiens to preserve who we are. We must preserve thehumanrace. We must use every tool in our arsenal to reclaim what is ours. It is our responsibility not only to eradicate these abominations but also to study, experiment, and dissect them to prevent them from ever arising again. We are the superior race. We must take what we can use and eliminate the rest."

Shaking with the effort it took to hold back the Golden Panther with whom he shared his soul, Juan Carlos inhaled deeply. Max watched carefully as the Beta slowly calmed enough to speak.

Shoving the single piece of paper back into the folder, he tossed the lot onto the desk and sighed, “She is worse than her father and siblings combined."

"Oh, yes, she is,” Sophia agreed. “Her words are…”

“Measured, precise, deadly,” Max finished his sister’s thought. “Where Tariq and the twins came from a place of anger and rage, Pandora operates with cold, dispassionate logic.”

“What difference does that make?” Juan Carlos spat. “A killer’s a killer, no?”

“No,” the King flatly responded. Meeting the Beta’s eyes, he added, “Because she is operating from a place of what she sees as logic and calm, even her brand of revenge will be calculated and precise.”

“And so fuckin’ hard to trip up,” Sophia hissed.

5

PRESENT DAY, ONE HOUR LATER

“Did you give her the adrenaline?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

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