Page 122 of Prey

“Multiple. But the longer we wait, the more subjects we lose.”

I watch them work—nine minds synchronizing around a single objective with frightening efficiency. They don’t need to discuss whether they’ll go. The only questions are logistics and timing.

“What’s the earliest we can be operational?” Nikolai asks.

“Twelve hours if we push,” Marcus says. “Six if we go minimal equipment.”

“This one’s different,” Ezra continues, swiping through intelligence reports. “Pharmaceutical signatures don’t match Project Architect protocols. The conditioning methodology is evolving—more sophisticated, more targeted.”

“Someone learned from our hits,” Dominic says grimly. “Adapted their approach.”

Fifty children. Maybe more. Being broken and rebuilt according to specifications I can’t even imagine, while I sit here complaining about morning sickness.

Nikolai looks at me, and I see the war in his expression. He promised to step back from field operations. Promised to prioritize our safety, our growing family. But those children…

“You have to go,” I say quietly.

“Jenna—”

“You have to go.” My voice is steady, certain. “All of you.”

“I’m not leaving you.” His hand finds mine under the table. “Not now. Not with?—”

“With what? Me being one month pregnant and perfectly capable of taking care of myself?” I squeeze his fingers. “Those children need you more than I do right now.”

“What if something happens?—”

“Then I’ll drive myself to the hospital.” I meet his eyes. “But you can’t save them from here.”

The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken truths. These men were those children once. Alone, terrified, convinced no one was coming to save them. They survived by turning themselves into weapons, but they remember what it felt like to need rescue.

“She’s right,” Raphael says quietly. “This is why we exist.”

“The numbers don’t lie,” Ezra adds. “Every day we delay, the statistical probability of successful extraction drops.”

“I hate it when he’s right,” Marcus mutters.

“I’m always right about statistics,” Ezra replies mildly.

Despite everything, I almost smile. Even facing another child trafficking ring, they can’t help but be themselves.

“How long?” I ask.

“Forty-eight to seventy-two hours,” Nikolai says. “Depends on complications.”

“Then go. Save them.”

I watch the final transformation unfold—family dinner dissolving into an operational briefing as they start discussing equipment loads, extraction routes, and personnel assignments. Raphael clears plates while Damon pulls up building schematics. Marcus tests communication frequencies while Lucien inventories weapons.

They’ll be gone by midnight. Nine ghosts will descend on another facility where children are being tortured, bringing death to the monsters and freedom to their survivors.

This is who they are. Who Nikolai is. Not just the Hunter who took me, but the man who uses his damage to protect the innocent.

And I’m proud to be part of it.

“Stay in our room here at Infinity,” Nikolai says, pulling me aside as the others gear up. “Theon’s leaving medical supplies and monitoring equipment. If anything feels wrong?—”

“I’ll call. I promise.”