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Deimos grunted in a non-committal fashion, clearly still unconvinced. That seemed to piss off Jaek whose face and tone hardened.
“If you’re going to question everything I do, then put Zeory back in charge and watch your plans fall apart,” Jaek hissed. “I don’t have time for his petty jealousy. If he had been more competent, I wouldn’t be fixing so many of his mistakes, and you’d already have a fully functional serum. Without me, you would have faceplanted hard trying to use Zeory’s hybrid serum on purebloods. My results speak for themselves.”
“I do not question the quality of the work you have accomplished in record time,” Deimos said in an appeasing tone. “But considering how important this project is to me, I have every right to ask questions.”
“Then askyourquestions instead of being a mouthpiece for Zeory’s temper tantrums,” Jaek snapped back, hardly mollified. “We both know he would love nothing more than prove me incompetent so that he can be reinstated as head scientist on this project. We also both know he checks every single line of my reports and tests all my samples in search of a flaw as evidence against me. He has systematically failed, so he falls back on these petty questions to get you to doubt me.”
Deimos heaved a sigh and rubbed some of the small horns jutting through his raven hair.
“You’re not wrong,” the Sarenian said in a tired voice. “It’s just that time isn’t on our side. I would like us to leave for Braxia tonight. But we don’t have anywhere near enough serum for their entire population.”
This time—to my greatest sorrow—Jaek’s anger melted, and he cast a sympathetic look at his companion. I had hoped their disagreement would escalate further. Dissension within their ranks could only benefit us.
“We have enough for now. And this is specifically why we need to keep Keran alive. He will continue to produce more serum for us on our way to Braxia. Once we arrive, we’ll just have to get our hands on a few more Berserkers to increase production.”
Another wave of hatred surged within me for the traitor. How had he so utterly fooled me?
“Even with a few more Berserkers, that will never be enough! Their population counts in millions!” Deimos argued. “The original plan had been to milk all the hybrids who agreed to join us on Braxia. If we got all seven hundred and sixty-three of the males Jardan is training, we would have had enough in a few weeks to meet our goal, but now…”
My brain froze upon hearing those words. For a brief instant, I wondered if the fogginess created by my Berserker mode was making me hear things. Surely Deimos hadn’t just admitted to Jaek that he would have betrayed his fellow hybrids, conning them into following him with promises of a better future, only to use them as serotonin factories?
“But now, you have something far better,” Jaek continued with enthusiasm in Deimos’s stead when his voice trailed off. “The serum I’ve derived from Keran is so much more potent than you realize. With his, it only takes a fraction of the previous hybrid dose to get the same effect. If we spill it in their water source, we will distribute it to the entire planet with none of them being the wiser.”
“The serum is sensitive to heat,” Deimos argued. “If they boil the water—”
“I’m already working on resolving that little problem,” Jaek interrupted smugly. “By the time we reach Braxia, I should have it fixed for you. And the best part, my improved serum acts even faster than before, a couple of seconds instead of minutes like Zeory’s weaker version. Let me show you.”
Jaek headed to one of the cooling units, picked up a serum vial, then fetched a hypospray from one of the drawers in the counters on the right. He walked back to Baldur and pressed it to his neck. Seconds later, Baldur’s eyes snapped open, the injection having visibly awakened him from whatever sedated state they’d been keeping him in.
As soon as he recognized Jaek, my captain bared his teeth at the traitor in a menacing fashion. Jaek chuckled, utterly unfazed. He pulled out a small device from his pocket, which resembled a remote.
“You see this little thing?” he asked Baldur, waiving it in front of his eyes. “It’s a nice little toy that will send a very nasty electric discharge to your prince when you press right here.”
“Fuck you,” Baldur hissed.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now that’s not nice,” Jaek said, nonchalantly replacing the empty cartridge in the hypospray by the serum vial he had taken from the cooling unit. “This should help you behave in a more cooperative fashion.”
Restrained as he was, Baldur vainly tried to pull away from the hypospray. As soon as Jaek finished injecting him, he turned to Deimos, who was observing the whole scene with a troubled expression.
“Command him to take the remote when I give it to him and to zap Keran with it,” Jaek instructed Deimos.
Visibly reluctant, Deimos nonetheless complied. Even as I braced for what would undoubtedly be extremely unpleasant, my heart ached for Baldur. His family had served mine for generations. His loyalty to my bloodline ran deep.
By the way his face contorted seconds before he pressed the button on the remote, his efforts to fight the compulsion had inflicted him severe pain. I had grown beyond familiar with the stabbing sensation. But nothing prepared me for the brutal jolt of electricity that blasted through me half a beat later. A bout of coughing followed my involuntary grunt of pain. Blood shot out of my mouth. This time, it wasn’t due to a larva piercing through one of my lungs, but to me accidentally giving the inside of my left cheek a savage bite in reaction to the electric discharge.
Worse still, the larvae inside me, having clearly not appreciated that little stunt, started digging their way out of the hostile environment that had become my body in a frenzy.
“Sedrak scum. You’re no better than your father. May your Ancestors curse you,” Baldur spat, his voice dripping with hatred.
While Deimos ignored him, the look that Jaek gave my captain spelled murder. For a brief instant, I feared he would strike him. Jaek’s father, Clan Leader Torvin Sedrak had been one of the foulest individuals I’d ever met, and a traitor. Among his many sins, he’d not only allowed his pureblood sons and the other juveniles from his clan to hunt his hybrid son, he’d enjoyed watching the boy suffer. What kind of man reveled in the suffering of his own seed? My father had taken great pleasure executing Torvin. But after what Jaek had endured, to be compared to his sire had to cut him deep.
“Impressive,” Deimos conceded while eyeing me pensively, apparently oblivious to Jaek’s fury. “But was that wise? I thought you didn’t want to kill him?”
Forcing his gaze away from Baldur, Jaek returned his attention to his companion.
“It will take a lot more to kill that beast. He’s in Berserker mode, which allows him to handle a great deal of pain,” Jaek replied in a dismissive tone before pointing at something beside my stretcher. “See how that increased his serotonin production?”
Deimos barely spared the bag collecting my hormones a glance before refocusing on the hybrid. “You enjoy torturing him,” he said pensively, sounding troubled, maybe even a little scared.
