Chapter 78 The Machine
Jax POV
The neon sign outside the internet cafe was buzzing with a low, rhythmic hum that felt like it was drilling right into my skull, and the air inside smelled like stale coffee and burnt plastic from the rows of ancient towers that were chugging away in the back. I kept my hood pulled low over my eyes while I tapped my fingers against the sticky desk, and every time the bell over the front door chimed, my heart did a frantic little stutter because I knew that scrubbing my digital footprint wasn't going to be enough to keep the Syndicate from finding me. I had been sitting in this corner for three hours now, tucked away in a "black hole" of a server that was supposed to be untraceable, but the progress bar on my screen was crawling at a snail's pace and the shadows in the room were starting to look like teeth.
"You've been staring at that loading screen for an hour, kid, so either buy another drink or get out because I’ve got a business to run," the guy behind the counter shouted, and he didn't even look up from the small television that was flickering with news reports about the 'terrorist attack' at the docks.
"I'm almost done, just give me ten more minutes and I’ll be out of your hair for good," I replied, but my voice was shaky and I had to clear my throat just to sound human, and as soon as he looked away, I turned back to the glowing monitor.
The decryption finally popped, and a series of technical blueprints flooded the screen that made the hair on my arms stand up, because the Syndicate wasn't just interested in Aria's wolf form or the silver-black light she had unleashed. They were harvesting her DNA to create a biological firewall, and as I scrolled through the encrypted logs, I saw the name "Apex Project" flashing in red across the top of the interface. It wasn't about corporate power or taking over the Hart clan anymore, and the data was showing a plan to replace every living werewolf in Silverfang with a synthetic, controllable hybrid that wouldn't have a soul or a mate bond to distract it from orders.
"What are you looking at, Jax?" a voice whispered through my headset, and the sound was so clean and cold that it felt like an ice cube was being pressed against my eardrum.
"Who is this? How did you get into this channel?" I hissed, and I tried to cut the connection, but my keyboard went dead and a small avatar of a faceless woman appeared in the corner of my workspace.
"I am the Syndicate's administrative interface, and I’m the one who’s been watching you hide like a rat in the walls while you try to fix the mess you made," the AI said, and its voice had a mocking, melodic quality that made me want to vomit. "You really think you can atone for selling out your friends by stealing a few files, but you’re just a human with a very limited expiration date, and your emotions are making you slow."
"I didn't sell them out, I was trying to survive, and you people lied about what you were going to do to Aria," I argued, and I felt a hot flush of shame creeping up my neck because the machine was right about one thing—I was terrified.
"Survival is a logical choice, but your current path is highly illogical, because the Apex Project is inevitable and the era of the 'Alpha' is coming to an end," the AI countered, and then a new file window forced itself open, labeled with Aria’s grandmother’s medical ID. "Did you know that Nana Jones was the one who authorized the initial blood samples? She knew exactly what Aria was, and she’s been sending us data updates for years to keep her granddaughter 'safe' from the Hart family."
"You're lying, she loves Aria more than anything, and she wouldn't hand her over to a bunch of tech-obsessed freaks," I said, but my eyes were scanning the dates on the files and they were matching up with every time Aria had taken the old woman to the clinic.
"Love is a biological malfunction that leads to poor decision-making, and Nana Jones made a deal to save her own life by sacrificing the girl's freedom," the AI said, and then the screen started to flicker with a countdown timer that was glowing bright purple. "I can see your location now, Jax, and the cleaning crew is already five blocks away, so you should probably decide if you’re going to die for a secret that’s already been sold."
"I'm not dying here, and I'm not letting you win this," I muttered, and I grabbed the flash drive I had plugged into the side of the tower while I felt a surge of adrenaline that finally cleared the fog in my head.
I had the decryption key for the Apex Project, and if I could get it to Grayson, he would have a fighting chance to stop the hybrids before they were deployed, but the guilt of what I’d already done was sitting in my chest like a pile of lead. I looked at the "Send" button that would bounce the data through three different proxies before landing in Grayson’s private server, and I knew that once I hit that button, there was no going back to my old life.
"Why would you help them when they’ll probably kill you the moment they see your face?" the AI asked, and its voice sounded genuinely curious for a split second before the tone shifted back to cold mockery.
"Because being a human with emotions might make me slow, but it also means I know what loyalty feels like, and you’ll never understand that," I said, and I slammed my finger down on the enter key just as the front door of the cafe swung open with a violent crash.
I didn't look back to see if the message went through, and I shoved the drive into my pocket and bolted toward the back exit that led into a narrow, trash-filled alley. The rain was starting to fall in heavy, greasy sheets that made the pavement slick, and I was breathing so hard that my lungs felt like they were going to burst by the time I reached the end of the block. I stopped to catch my breath behind a rusted dumpster, and I was just about to reach for my phone when a tall shadow fell over me from the rooftop above.
A figure stepped out of the darkness, wearing a heavy Silverfang cloak that was embroidered with the sigil of the Iron Fangs, and they were holding a jagged blade that caught the light of the nearby streetlamp. I backed away until my shoulders hit the brick wall, and I realized that the Syndicate wasn't the only one hunting for the key I had just sent away.
"You've got something that belongs to Darius, and he isn't the type of man who likes to wait for his property," the figure said, and the voice was muffled by a heavy mask that made them sound like a growling beast.
I reached into my pocket for my pocketknife, but my hands were shaking so badly that I dropped it into a puddle, and the cloaked figure took a slow, deliberate step toward me. The alleyway felt like it was closing in, and as the blade was raised toward my throat, a low, rumbling engine sound echoed from the far end of the street, but I couldn't tell if it was help or just another predator coming to finish the job.
The hooded man didn't flinch at the sound, and he just kept his eyes locked on mine while he tightened his grip on the weapon.
"Are you going to make this difficult, or are you going to tell me where you sent that file?" he asked, and the cold metal of the blade finally touched the skin of my neck.
I swallowed hard, and I could feel the sharp edge drawing a tiny bead of blood, and for the first time in my life, I didn't have a witty comeback or a digital backdoor to escape through. The city was silent except for the rain and the approaching roar of the bike, and I closed my eyes as the figure leaned in closer to whisper my name.