Taming the Wild Beast of Alamina

Getting Amaru out of the residence took less time than getting him through it.

Once the portable monitors had been secured to the stretcher, Nero and Hale moved quickly, keeping the prince level between them while the last traces of the chamber’s pheromonal mixture disappeared through the disabled ventilation system. Amaru remained unconscious, although his breathing had deepened considerably since Seven stopped the cycle, and the occasional movement beneath his eyelids suggested that whatever state Claudia had forced him into was already beginning to weaken.

Duncan followed as fast as his ribs allowed.

By the time they reached the outer security section, he had abandoned any attempt to hide the pain. One hand stayed against his side while the other supported his injured shoulder, his dark field clothes streaked with blood and limestone dust from the fight with Nero.

Nero glanced back at him once.

”You are slowing down.”

”I have broken ribs.”

”You mentioned.”

”You caused them.”

”That too.”

Hale did not participate.

He was watching Amaru’s monitor.

Dean suspected Hale would continue doing that until someone with a medical degree physically removed the equipment from his hands.

Hunter waited near the exterior door with the route already cleared.

”The helicopters are three minutes out. We have a landing point west of the reserve road where the terrain opens enough for both aircraft.”

Arion checked the surveillance screens one final time.

Nothing had changed.

No arriving vehicles.

No security rotation moving early.

No exterior communications Dean could see.

That bothered him.

They had disabled two pheromonal systems, accessed medical controls, opened the prince’s containment chamber, and were now physically removing him from the property.

Someone should have noticed.

Unless Claudia’s system had been designed to remain quiet.

”We stay behind them,” Arion said.

Nero looked over.

”For how long?”

”Until you are airborne.”

Nero understood immediately.

Amaru was the objective.

If something in the residence activated as they withdrew, the first helicopter needed to be gone before anyone dealt with it.

Duncan looked toward the security monitors.

”I don’t know what else is connected to the central system.”

”That is why you are leaving with Amaru,” Arion replied.

Duncan frowned. ”I would be more useful here.”

”You are the only person we have who understands even part of this facility.”

Nero added, ”And you work for me now.”

Duncan looked at him.

”That arrangement is becoming inconvenient very quickly.”

Nero smiled. ”You will adjust.”

The helicopters became audible before they were visible, rotors beating through the mountain air beyond the western trees.

Hunter opened the exterior door.

Arion’s pheromonal distortion moved with them as they crossed the surveillance zone, cameras continuing to record empty paths and wet stone while six people and one unconscious prince passed directly beneath them.

The landing site was several hundred meters from the residence in a rough clearing used for forestry maintenance. Rain had softened the ground, and the first helicopter settled carefully onto the uneven grass while its rotor wash flattened winter weeds and sent loose leaves spinning across the clearing.

Hale and Nero carried Amaru straight toward it.

The medical stretcher locked into the prepared brackets inside the cabin, where an emergency transport kit had already been opened across one bench. Hale climbed in after him and immediately checked the leads.

Duncan stopped beside the door.

Nero looked down at him from inside.

Duncan looked at the helicopter, then back toward the villa hidden behind the trees.

Whatever loyalty he had once owed Claudia, Price, or the assignment itself appeared to end there.

He caught the doorframe and hauled himself inside with a grimace.

Nero gave him a hand without comment.

Dean stood beside Arion near the edge of the clearing.

”Still nothing.”

Arion was listening to more than the forest.

Dean could tell from the slight angle of his head and the concentration in his dark gold eyes.

”No movement from the residence.”

Hunter touched his communicator.

”Aircraft confirmed ready at the airport. Nero’s jet can depart as soon as they arrive. Ours will remain on standby until we reach it.”

”Destination confirmed?” Arion asked.

”Saha. Dax’s medical team has been notified only that Nero is bringing an emergency patient.”

That would last approximately until Dax saw the patient.

Dean had no desire to be present for the first explanation.

The first helicopter lifted.

Nero sat beside Amaru, one hand braced against the cabin wall while Hale monitored the prince. Duncan occupied the opposite seat with his injured arm secured against his body.

Within seconds, the aircraft cleared the trees and turned toward the eastern coast.

Only after it disappeared behind the ridge did Arion move.

”Now us.”

The second helicopter descended into the clearing.

Hunter boarded first and turned immediately to help Dean over the high step. Dean caught his forearm, ducking beneath the rotor wash as his coat snapped violently around his legs.

Arion remained behind him.

One last look toward the residence.

Dean had one foot inside the cabin when something changed.

Arion felt it first.

He did not know what he felt.

Only that every instinct he possessed suddenly told him the space behind Dean was wrong.

His head turned.

A line of vents concealed along the rear boundary wall opened simultaneously.

Dean saw the movement over Arion’s shoulder.

”Arion—”

The air erupted.

It was not a visible cloud, but Dean felt the pheromonal surge before he could identify anything else, a dense, contaminated pressure expelled across the backyard and carried immediately toward the clearing by the rotor wash.

His field came up on instinct.

Arion grabbed him around the waist and shoved him into the helicopter.

Dean crashed into Hunter, who caught him against his chest before he struck the opposite bench.

”Arion!”

The corrupted pheromones rolled through the clearing.

Arion disappeared inside them for several seconds.

Hunter reached for the door.

Arion was already moving.

He crossed the remaining distance at a run and caught the helicopter frame just as Dean tried to climb back toward him.

”I’m fine.”

Dean stared at him.

The smell of corruption clung faintly to his clothes beneath the cold outside air.

”You were in it.”

”I know.”

Hunter looked past him toward the villa.

The vents had already closed.

No second discharge followed.

”Was that the same mixture?” he asked.

Dean concentrated on the residue against his field.

”No.”

He could feel the difference immediately.

The complex cocktail from inside had contained multiple pheromonal traits layered over one another.

This was simpler.

Raw corrupted output.

Arion climbed into the cabin and pulled the door shut.

Dean caught his wrist.

”Anything?”

”No.”

”Headache? Nausea? Pheromonal response?”

”No.”

Hunter was already signaling the pilot to lift.

Dean searched Arion’s face anyway.

Dominants did not react to corrupted pheromones.

That was one of the few consistent facts they had established since the infections began. The beasts reacted. Omegas and ordinary secondary profiles could be resistant under the right conditions. Dominants themselves resisted the corruption strongly enough that Claudia had needed an entire engineered cocktail to suppress Amaru rather than simply exposing him to infected-beast pheromones.

Arion was not concerned.

Neither was Hunter.

Dean’s pulse took considerably longer to agree.

”You shoved me.”

”Yes.”

”You could have pulled me inside.”

”There was no time.”

”That is debatable.”

”Later.”

Dean gave him a look that promised later would not be pleasant.

Arion reached across and fastened Dean’s harness before securing his own.

The helicopter rose sharply.

Through the window, the western residence dropped beneath them, grey stone disappearing between dark trees until only the roof remained visible against the mountainside.

No vehicles pursued them.

No alarm reached the island authorities.

Nothing exploded.

Hunter opened the secure line to the airport.

”Second aircraft airborne. Seven minutes out.”

Dean leaned back against the seat and looked at Arion again.

His breathing was normal. His posture was normal. Even his pheromones felt normal beneath Dean’s field.

Arion turned toward him.

”What?”

”Nothing.”

Dean still watched him for another second before finally looking away.

Outside, Snake Island passed beneath them in ridges of limestone and winter forest as the helicopter headed toward the airport.

Arion turned toward the window.

In the reflected light, his dark gold eyes looked almost brown.