Page 53 of Echoes From the Void
My shadows tighten, cutting off her words. But through her blood, I see what she means. See the tanks full of twisted children, the successful fusions of essence, the plans for what comes next.
“Call Frankie,” I tell Bishop. “Tell her... tell her we found them. All of them. Every child they took.”
Leo’s sunshine powers flare, responding to my fury. “And we’re getting them out.”
“No,” I say, feeling my fangs lengthen fully as the blood reveals its final secrets. “First we make these ones tell us everything. Then we burn it all down.”
The assistant tries to speak again, but now it’s both my shadows and Leo’s light holding her in place. Together, like always. Balanced in violence like we’re balanced in love.
“The blood knows,” I tell them, feeling both predator and healer rise in perfect harmony. “And now, so do we.”
The blood speaks in images and sensations: children strapped to tables, essence being forced into unwilling veins, Valerie standing over it all with clinical detachment. But there’s more—older memories, deeper truths. A program that started long before Valerie, before even her father.
“Project Sunrise,” the assistant gasps as my shadows extract each secret. “It was supposed to be different. Light instead of shadow. Healing instead of harm. But they couldn’t control it, couldn’t force the merger?—”
“So they switched to shadow essence instead,” Bishop finishes, his Guardian marks pulsing with rage. “Made it darker. More controllable.”
“Not controllable,” another assistant laughs, blood staining her teeth. “Never controllable. Ask your mother, Guardian. Ask her about the first trials.”
Bishop goes still. Through our pack bonds, I feel his shock ripple out. “My mother...”
“Later,” Leo cuts in, his hand squeezing my shoulder. He knows how the blood-truth can overwhelm, has seen me lost in it before. “Focus, Teo. What else are they showing you?”
I push deeper, letting my shadows taste every secret in their veins. The images come faster: a compound hidden in mountains, children in tanks of liquid shadow, something massive stirring in the depths...
“Father,” I breathe, understanding clicking into place. “They found him. Frankie’s father. The Eredar?—”
A high, thin scream cuts through the night—not from our prisoners, but from somewhere deeper in the woods. A child’s voice, twisted by pain and corruption.
“They’re moving them,” the assistant says, smiling despite the blood running from her eyes. “Right now. Evacuating every facility. You’ll never find them all in time.”
Leo’s power flares like captured sunlight. “Want to bet?”
I bare my fangs, feeling the predator rise. “The blood doesn’t lie. And yours has shown us everything—every location, every access code, every shadow path they use.”
“You don’t understand,” she tries, but I cut her off with a snarl.
“No. You don’t understand. Those children? They’re pack now. All of them. And we’re coming for them.”
Another scream echoes through the trees. Closer this time. Desperate.
“Bishop,” I say, not taking my eyes off our prey. “Get this intel back to Frankie and the others. Tell them what we found. Leo and I?—”
“Are going hunting,” Leo finishes, his shadows gathering with deadly intent despite the playful smirk on his face. Through our bond, I feel his perfect understanding. His readiness to follow me into darkness.
“The Council wants prisoners,” Bishop reminds us, but his tone carries acceptance. He knows what needs to be done.
“They’ll have their prisoners,” I promise, feeling my shadows thicken as night falls. “After we make them understand exactly what it feels like to be helpless. To be experimented on. To be?—”
“Unmade,” Leo says softly, his usual bright demeanor completely gone. His shadows wrap around mine like an embrace. Like always.
The scream comes again. A child begging for help.
We move as one, leaving Bishop to handle the cleanup. The child’s trail leads us deeper into shadow-thick woods, pain and corrupted essence leaving a scent like burned sugar in the air. Leo moves at my side, his shadows dancing between playful and predatory. We’ve hunted together since high school—me tracking bullies who hurt his sisters, him keeping my predator nature in check.
“There,” Leo whispers, pointing to a crude shadow path torn into reality. “They’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”
“Sloppy,” I agree, scenting the air. “Three adults. One child. The essence is... wrong.”
