Page 72 of Revenant

The server room is underwhelming. It’s basically a room with one small server bank that fits on a desk. I’m actually grateful, since my brain very much feels like mush. I’m not sure how much data I can review before my mind is overloaded.

Avoiding the others so they won’t notice that something is wrong, I focus on accessing the data. Rue needs us, and I refuse to let her down again. I take a seat at the desk, close my eyes, and allow the data to flow.

I don’t try to sort the information, instinctively following the data, concentrating on anything pertaining to Rue. After a minute, my head throbs, and a migraine blooms behind my eyes. Five minutes into the code, vertigo strikes, but I breathe through the disorientation. At the ten-minute mark, a trickle of blood drips down my nose, and I swipe away the annoyance.

I’m close.

I can’t give up now.

Just when it feels like my brain is about to have an aneurysm, I pull myself out of the server. I take a deep breath, then swivel my chair to face the others, doubting my legs will support my weight at this point, and swallow hard when bile threatens to rise. I clear my throat, careful not to move too fast and pass out.

“What did you find?” Hicks asks, handing me a wad of toilet paper. I didn’t even realize my nose had started bleeding again, and I accept it gratefully.

James places his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers so cold, I shiver. The stabbing pain ricocheting inside my skull eases, and I relax into my chair. “Thank you.”

James nods once, then waits impatiently for the information I attained. I grimace, my nausea churning again, only this time at what I discovered. “The doctor is a sociopath. To him, humans are just test subjects. He places no value on his patients other than what he can learn from them with his experiments. He has one goal in mind—to finish his father’s work on creating the perfect super soldiers.

“And he believes Rue is the key to his research. He won’t let her go without a fight.” I dab at my nose, pleased when the bleeding finally stops. Not wanting to leave a trace of our presence, I shove the wad into my pocket and stand.

“He can’t have her,” James snarls back, looking ready to burn the place down. I only worry that he might burn it down around us. He glares at each of us, as if daring us to argue. “Pookie is mine.”

When he sees us staring, he crosses his arms with a pout, then rolls his eyes and looks away. “Fine. Ours.”

“We don’t have much time,” I warn them, wishing I could block out the information I saw on the server. “The doctor picks favorites to bestow with extra benefits. He indulges them, allowing them to be in charge of the others. Anyone who isn’t his favorite is expendable.”

“You think he set up the fight to purposely injure her?” Hicks says, his unblinking yellow eyes trippy enough that I have a hard time maintaining eye contact.

“I think he would do whatever is necessary to get his hands on her,” I say, my tone grim. I refuse to tell the guys the full extent of the good doctor’s plans for Rue. They’re too horrible to speak out loud.

“Crystal insists that the duel was her idea.” Jace plays with his ring, his face a mask of annoyance, the poor bastard. Being stuck with her must be his worst nightmare—forced to speak with a girl and unable to escape. He rolls his eyes, hunching hisshoulders as his scowl deepens. “She was falling out of favor and ruthless enough to kill anyone who thought to take her place.” A sly smirk curls his lips, his mood brightening. “She just didn’t expect to be handed her ass so thoroughly.”

He winces, and I suspect he’s receiving an earful from Crystal, but his smirk remains in place. “Keep your disgusting, disease infested hands off me.” His lips curl, and he does a full body shudder. “Your abilities didn’t work on me when you were alive, and they sure as fuck aren’t going to work now that you don’t have a body.”

He grabs his shirt, and I realize he is clutching the necklace underneath. The instant he touches it, his posture relaxes, and the harsh lines on his face smooth out. Though Jace might be socially withdrawn, it’s by design. He knows just what to say to piss off people in a way that they refuse to speak to him again. I always thought it was an amazing ability, but manners were ingrained in me at a young age and I’m unable to go against my programming yet.

“Where did they take Rue?” Gunner glances around the room, a scowl of annoyance darkening his expression when he can’t pin down Crystal and demand answers.

The muscles of his forearms pop out when he clenches his fists, his veins seeming to pulse as he struggles with his rage. I have my suspicions as to what his ancient DNA contains. If it didn’t sound so outlandish, I would swear he was a berserker.

Then again, Hicks has teeth and claws, James can heal, Jace can see ghosts, and I can talk to computers. Our world has been tipped on its end, but Rue makes the insanity seem normal. I can’t go back to the way we were living before she came into our lives. Our family is complete with her, and I refuse to let her go without a fight.

“I have a plan, but we need a few of the others to help with a distraction.” I use my abilities to check who the good doctor likesto use in his experiments, the ones who he tortures the most might be the ones most willing to help us. While I don’t trust any of them, Rue wouldn’t like it if we left them behind without trying to free them.

After reviewing a few files, what he has been doing to the patients, how few of them actually survive his tender care, I’m more determined than ever to do whatever it takes to bring Hershamn down for his crimes.

We’ve done the same thing on the outside many times, dismantling criminal organizations and taking over their power bases. While we don’t have a problem with some criminal activities, we have no time for drug rings or prostitution.

Doctor Hershamn is no different.

He exploits the weak and must be punished.

And, ironically enough, he gave us the abilities to take him down.

“You have a plan?” Hicks lifts a single brow, curiosity taking over his expression.

“We’re going to rescue our pookie and fuck shit up?” James tilts his head toward me, his serious expression almost more worrisome than his manic phases.

Normally, I would be concerned.

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