Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Cassandra’s face went pale, but she held his gaze.
“All right. Then we’ll wait.”
“I’ll have to bite you eventually,” he told her. “But not in a dark bunker during a power failure unless there is no other choice.”
Ravik growled in frustration.
“So the cure is in you, but you won’t use it?”
“I will use it when I must,” Severin snapped. “Not because you suddenly approve of me biting her but still refuse to consider that you need the same cure.”
Cassandra looked between them.
“Boys, I really need you to save the fight for later.”
Severin took a breath. She was right—they needed to hurry and there was no time for this argument.
“We move now,” he said, slinging a second bag over his shoulder. “We need to send a signal asking for transport and the communications tower is less than two kilometers away through the maintenance ravine. If the ravine is clear, we may reach it quickly. If it is not, we improvise.”
“And if the Infected are everywhere?” Cassandra asked, her face still pale.
“Then we run faster,” Ravik said.
Severin shot him a look.
Ravik shrugged.
“What? It’s a plan.”
“It is barely a sentence wearing a plan’s clothing,” Severin said.
“Don’t be a smart ass, Sev.” But Ravik’s mouth twitched despite himself and Cassandra gave a small, short laugh.
For one brief, absurd moment, they were almost themselves—two lifelong best friends and the human woman who had become so important to them both. Then something slammed against the bunker again, and the moment was shattered.
They moved quickly after that.
Severin led them through the lab’s rear storage corridor, his belt light cutting a narrow path through the dark. The main exit was too risky if the Infected had found the hatch, but the Visskous scientist who owned the bunker had installed a secondary maintenance shaft that led up through the ravine. It had been intended for equipment deliveries and discreet escapes, if the logs were to be believed.
The corridor smelled stale without the ventilation system running and the air was warming quickly. Cassandra stayed between them, the charge baton gripped in both hands and her shoulders squared in a way that made Severin’s heart fist in his chest. She was frightened—he could smell it beneath the sharper, sweeter scent of her viral need—but she kept moving anyway.
Ravik followed behind her, silent now…maybe too silent.
Severin glanced back at his friend.
“Still with us?”
Ravik’s golden eyes lifted to his.
“Still here,” Ravik said. Then his mouth tightened. “Don’t fuckin’ start—I feel fine.”
Severin faced forward again, jaw clenched.
He wanted to start—he wanted to demand that Ravik acknowledge the danger, acknowledge the fog, acknowledge the fact that his stubbornness might cost them everything. But the maintenance corridor was not the place for that conversation, and Severin was painfully aware that if he pushed too hard now, Ravik might dig in deeper out of pride alone.
The male had always been stubborn—it had saved Severin’s life more than once.
Now it might get him killed.
They reached the sealed maintenance door just as another impact echoed from the opposite side of the bunker. This one was followed by a shriek of stressed metal and a chorus of distant, hungry sounds that made Cassandra go very still.
“Is…is that them?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Severin said, because lying would insult her intelligence and waste time. “They’ve either breached the outer hatch or they’re damn close to doing so.”
“Then open the fucking door,” Ravik growled.
Severin entered the manual release code but nothing happened.
He tried again, then opened the panel and yanked on the emergency lever. The mechanism resisted for one heart-stopping second before it gave with a grinding clunk. The door slid open just enough to reveal a narrow vertical shaft beyond, lit faintly by the gray-green glow of surface light filtering through the upper grate.
Cold air rushed in—it smelled like ashes and rain with the unmistakable tang of rotting things that still moved when they should have laid down and died months ago.
Cassandra gagged softly and put a hand over her nose and mouth.
Ravik stepped closer to her at once, one hand settling at her lower back.
“Breathe through your mouth, baby,” he murmured, and the gentleness in his voice made Severin’s anger twist into something more painful.
There he was—Ravik was still in there. The male who protected, comforted, fought, joked, and had stood between Severin and death more times than Severin could count. He was still there, but the Hunger was waiting under his skin, and Severin had the cure burning behind his fangs while Ravik refused to take it.
“You climb first,” Severin told Cassandra, forcing his voice to be steady. “Ravik will be directly behind you. I’ll come last and seal the hatch if the mechanism still works.”
Cassandra looked at the narrow ladder, then up into the dim shaft.
“I hate this.”
“I’m sorry,” Severin said. “It can’t be helped—this is the only way out.”
“I know it is.” She sighed. “Any chance we can go back to the part where everyone was in bed and my biggest problem was having humiliating medical orgasms?”