Rise of the Dark Alpha

~ ZEV ~

The Avatar writhed like an alligator trying to roll him. One of Zev's elbows cracked on the cement. He hissed a curse and wrestled it almost to its back.

Avatars were difficult opponents because they felt no pain. They didn't feel anything at all. They were mindless automated intelligence in a synthetically grown human body. They did not have feelings, but acted intelligently on orders and, occasionally, under direct control of a handler.

That moment the thing's face had gone slack was the moment a handler took control. The question was, which one, and why? If this was a training exercise, they didn't want the thing damaged.

But if it was a hunt... Why were they sending a hunt after Sasha?

"I'll finish it," he growled at whoever was looking through the thing's eyes. No one answered, so he hooked their legs and leaned up, whip-fast, to wrap the thing's head in his lower arm and pin it to the tarmac. "You wanna keep it, stop fighting."

They wrestled for another moment, but Zev had the upper hand and got it pinned, its legs immobilized. It was only seconds before he had its head locked and his hands positioned correctly.

They continued to struggle, until the thing had stopped breathing—because they could do that. The technology within it would continue to beat its biologically engineered heart until there were no resources left within it to feed its body, at which point it would begin to rot on its feet. But if it had any strength, it would still use it.

Avatars could not be killed. They could only be broken. Or destroyed.

Engineered at a cost of tens-of-millions each, the handler responsible for allowing the destruction of an Avatar would have hell to pay.

"You want to keep him?" Zev growled, knowing the handler could hear him.

The Avatar's face was red and veiny, its organic body reacting naturally to the pressure, its self-preservation instincts kicking in. But there was a sickly smile on the thing's face and the voice that came from its mouth was inhumanly casual.

"Zev, let it go."

"One more inch and I'm snapping his spine," he growled in the things ear. "Then you can use his eyes to watch me leave."

The thing stopped fighting. It didn't relax, but it stopped trying to hurt him.

Zev wasn't fooled. He'd fought Avatars before.

Cunning and merciless—after all, they had no emotions, no empathy—they would allow themselves to be dominated, hurt, even maimed if they though it would give them an opening to take victory.

Zev didn't relax his grip—in fact, he tightened his grip. Half an inch more and he'd break the thing's neck. It wouldn't feel it, but it also wouldn't be able to move.

"You're already in trouble, Zev. You don't want to create this kind of heat." The Avatar's mouth moved to make the words, but they were the handler's thoughts.

Zev growled. "Watch me."

"You don't want to create this kind of heat for her," it said.

Zev would have shivered, but he couldn't afford the risk that it would try to flip him. He tightened his grip on its head and stared down the barrel of those empty eyes to make sure whoever was on the other side saw him. "You touch a hair on her head and you don't just lose this piece of shit, you lose me, too."

"Touchy, touchy," he ground through a clamped jaw, but his tone was pleasant. The Avatar gave a twisted smile because his face was crammed between Zev's hands.

Suddenly, the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked echoed through the empty garage and they both froze.

Zev looked up to find Sasha, standing at the things head, a tiny hand gun held remarkably steadily, pointed right at his skull. "Let him go," she said. Her voice was cold and shaky and Zev was washed in a wave of conflicting emotions—pride and admiration warred with terror and a touch of amusement.

She was beautiful and bold, and she had absolutely no idea how deep the waters she'd just waded into washed over her head.

"Sasha," he growled. "Get back in the car."

"Not until he lets you go," she said, staring at the Avatar, her jaw set with determination, despite the fact that she was beginning to tremble.

"She's pretty," the handler said through the Avatar, though Sasha didn't know it. Her upper lip curled away from her teeth and she snarled, "Let him go, and stop looking at me, or I will shoot you."

"Feisty too," he said, but the Avatar moved his gaze from her back down to Zev and his smile got even sicker. "Enjoy her while you can. You know Nick will take her as soon as possible. She's just his type."

A growl, deep and ferocious, rattled in Zev's throat and he jerked the things head, snapping its neck audibly, like a tree branch.

Sasha gasped and scrambled back, away from them.

The Avatar relaxed, it's limbs losing all control. But it was still smiling. "Naughty, naughty, Zev. Daddy is going to be pissed."

"How is he… what—" Sasha's voice was high and shocked. This was all going to hit her and it was going to be too much. He had to get her out of here.

Zev didn't take the time to explain, just leaped up and grabbed her, running her around the car to get her in the passenger seat, looking in every direction until she was in and belted, then he slid over the hood of the car to the side where the Avatar lay on the ground, and got in.

Just as he slammed the door and turned the key, he caught the sound of the thing laughing.

"I hope she's worth it! She's not THAT pretty—"

He slammed his foot to the floor and squealed the tires getting the car out of there.

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