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Tracking the Alpha

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Book Cover: Tracking the Alpha
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Part of the Project Therianthrope series:
  • Tracking the Alpha

A betrayal by those he trusted leads to one final mission.

Vengeance.

Captain Barrett Wilson never agreed to be experimented on by his superior officers, but he wasn’t given a choice. When he awakes in captivity, he wants nothing more than to escape, but it’s only when the beast within roars free that Barrett manages to flee his prison.

The nearby forest becomes his home and feeding ground, the primal urges raging through his body only satisfied by the blood of his enemies. But his murderous rampage ends when the huntress comes tracking.

Her scent? Unlike anything he’s ever encountered.

Want her.


Her stealth? A skill he can’t help but admire.


Claim her.

And when she discovers the secret to unlocking the man within the wolf…

Perhaps there’s still hope for Barrett, but only if he succeeds with his mission for vengeance. Those who changed him must die. To his surprise, when the huntress hears of his plan, she becomes his ally—and lover.

However, their happily ever after depends on them ridding themselves of the one obstacle in their way: The general in charge of Project Therianthrope.

Available on: 2025-09-18
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
Action and Adventure, genetic experimention, killer hero, killer heroine, Paranormal Romance, Shapeshifter Romance, werewolf romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

“General!” Major Stevens barged into General Walt Davidson’s tent, ruining his planned nap.

“You’d better have a good excuse for invading my tent without permission,” snarled Walt, his patience short given the many restless nights spent tossing and turning on his wretched cot.

“Sir, something’s happened and you’re needed in the medical tent right away,” huffed Stevens, his face flushed either from excitement or heat.

“Whatever’s occurred, I highly doubt it requires my presence,” drawled Walt. “Let the doctors handle it.”

“But, sir—”

Walt interrupted. “There are no buts. I’m a busy man who doesn’t have time for panic when there is clear protocol to follow. If someone died, fill out the paperwork and I’ll look it over when I’m back at my desk.”

“No one died, sir. It’s something else. Something never seen before.”

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Not words any leader liked to hear and Walt eyed the short distance between him and the major. “If the medical team is dealing with a possible contagion, then they should be quarantining everyone that comes into contact with Patient Zero, which includes you, Major, if you were exposed. I shouldn’t have to tell you this.”

“It’s not a disease, sir. At least, we don’t think it is?” The statement ended on a lilting query. “It’s actually rather incredible. The higher-ups will want to hear about it.”

Dammit, despite himself, intrigue roused, and Walt pursed his lips. The major, not a man usually prone to panic or drama, appeared quite flustered. “What exactly is going on in medical?”

“I’d explain, but honestly, you have to see it to believe it.”

So much for his nap. “This better be good,” Walt grumbled as he buttoned his jacket, rendering himself presentable. Uniform standards could be annoying, especially in the dry desert heat of the Middle East where he’d been stationed. Six months since he’d arrived to run the peacekeeping mission a few hundred kilometers from Kandahar. Six months of dust in everything. Military food rations. Extreme heat that resulted in grumpy troops, a mood only worsened by the lack of action. The Canadian Armed Forces too often took turning the other cheek too far. Even when insurgents attacked their peaceful convoys meant to help the people in the area, they’d been ordered to not retaliate. What a joke. Why bother sending soldiers if they weren’t allowed to fight?

Walt exited the tent and, despite the dusty haze stretching across the sky, squinted to see. The sun blared, hot and bright. It rose without fail every fucking day. He never thought he’d miss the gloomy cold days of winter back in Canada.

As Walt followed Major Stevens through the camp of tents and crates, soldiers lounging about snapped to attention, heels clacking together, hands angled and hitting their foreheads in a salute.

Walt acknowledged no one. One didn’t achieve and maintain a fierce reputation by being friendly with the lower ranks.

The medical tent, clearly marked with a giant red cross, had a half-dozen armed soldiers surrounding it, raising his brow. “Is there a threat inside? You assured me there was no contagion.”

“It’s a precaution,” the major answered. “While the soldier being treated has the potential to cause injury, I was more concerned about ensuring he couldn’t escape.”

More and more mysterious. So this was about someone under his command.

As Walt stepped past the stiff guards, he pulled aside the flap covering the doorway. “Well, let’s see what’s got you in such a—” The next words died on his tongue. As Walt’s eyes narrowed, he muttered, “How did a wolf get inside our medical tent?”

“That’s not a wolf, sir. You’re looking at Corporal Mato Nakai,” Major Stevens announced.

The tall wolf stood between a pair of medical gurneys with its hackles raised, growling at the soldiers pointing guns at it. Dr. Levy stood behind them, looking pale.

“Explain, Major.”

“Not much to tell, sir. Corporal Nakai was out with his section delivering supplies to one of the rural villages. Upon their return to camp, they were attacked. The vehicle they were in flipped and rolled. Two soldiers died instantly. Nakai and Philips were severely injured and brought back to camp for treatment.”

“We were attacked and this the first I’m hearing of it?” Walt snapped.

“You told me to not bother you unless it was a real emergency,” the major reminded. “I was preparing a report to present later when the doctor on duty had me fetched to show me what happened to Corporal Nakai.”

“And what is the doctor claiming happened?” Walt crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, apparently when Dr. Levy started cleaning the corporal’s wounds, Nakai went into convulsions and transformed from a man to this.” The major swept a hand in the direction of the wolf.

“Do you take me for an idiot?” Walt didn’t fall for the elaborate prank. Bored soldiers sometimes thought they could pull a fast one on their commanding officer. They’d soon find out he didn’t brook that kind of frivolous nonsense.

“Sir?”

“These kinds of stunts are not amusing and have no place in a military operation,” Walt barked. “I want to know who was involved with bringing a filthy wild animal into a sterile environment. You do realize that, because of this ill-thought caper, everything in here will have to be either tossed or scrubbed clean?”

“I assure you, General, this is no joke. That really is Corporal Nakai,” Dr. Levy ventured from behind a soldier to exclaim. “As unbelievable as it sounds, I saw it happen.”

“Bullshit.” The expletive exploded from his lips. “People do not turn into wolves. I don’t care how many werewolf movies Hollywood puts out. It’s impossible. Now, you, and whoever else was involved, will present yourselves in the command tent at fifteen hundred hours for punishment detail.”

“Sir, it’s the truth,” Dr. Levy interjected.

“It’s a medical miracle that needs to be studied,” the major added.

“Stop with the lying. The prank failed.” Walt pulled his sidearm and took aim at the wolf, which stopped baring its teeth and, with a lowered head, stared at him steadily. Blame the major’s insistence for Walt imagining he saw intelligence in the gaze.

Bang.

The wild creature lifted its shaggy head fast enough the bullet missed the spot between the eyes where he’d been aiming and struck it in the chest. The wolf didn’t yelp or try to flee despite the fact blood poured from the hole in its hairy chest. It also never took its gaze from the general’s, even when its entire body began to shake and spasm in the throes of death.

Walt went to pivot and leave, but Dr. Levy, in a breach that would result in extra punishment, lurched in his direction and grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t turn away. Watch. I think it’s happening again.”

As Walt’s mouth opened to reprimand, the words remained unspoken for the wolf lay on the floor of the medical tent shivering so hard its limb straightened. Hair receded. Paws melted into hands and feet. A muzzle shrank inwards to become a mouth with a nose in the middle of a human face.

By the time the shivering ceased, the wolf was gone. In its place, a man. A naked man with jet-black hair and the same unwavering, intent stare.

“Holy fuck.” The only thing the general could say that fit the moment.

“I told you it was true,” the major crowed in relief.

Walt took a step forward. “State your name.”

The naked man rose to his feet—flesh unmarked by any wounds—and, in spite of the incongruity of the situation, saluted. “Corporal Nakai, sir.”

“I need you to explain what just happened, Corporal.”

The man’s face twisted. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

At the refusal, Walt’s brow lifted. “I gave you an order.

“I realize that, sir. However, I swore an oath I can’t break.”

“You know I can’t ignore what just happened here.”

Nakai’s lips pinched. “I wish you would, sir.”

Ignore what might be the single greatest discovery of his career? Like fuck.

The general pointed. “Major, take the corporal into custody.”

Nakai foolishly thought he could run. He snared a scalpel and dove for the side of the tent. The blade tore through the canvas, and Nakai slipped through the gap, but the major had planned well by placing soldiers just outside.

The corporal still tried to plow through them and failed. A captured Nakai found himself in restraints and placed under guard in the tent used as a jail for misbehaving soldiers. Usually, it held those who’d disgraced their uniform in some fashion like getting stupid drunk or harassing the locals. This time, it held a man who was also somehow a wolf.

A man who steadfastly refused to answer questions until the major applied the right kind of pressure. Unfortunately, Nakai didn’t survive the interrogation. However, his preserved body got shipped to a lab back in Canada, and by the time Walt returned, Nakai’s extended family—which consisted of an uncle and sister—had been taken into custody. To everyone’s surprise and delight, it turned out they, too, could shift shapes like the corporal, something the government took great interest in.

And thus was Project Therianthrope born.

Chapter 1

Several years later…

 

The march from the barracks to headquarters didn’t take long, a good thing since it had begun to rain and Barrett really didn’t want to spend another hour spit-shining his boots when he could be having beers and winning money playing billiards.

Their entire section, under Captain Barrett Wilson’s command, had received the order to present themselves to General Davidson, but they’d not been told why, which led to the soldiers throwing out theories.

“Think we’re finally going to get deployed?” asked Slater, breaking the silence permeating the room where they’d been told to wait.

“I already told you, I have no idea,” growled Barrett for the umpteenth time. He’d not known the first time he’d been asked as he barked at them all to tuck in their shirts and be ready to move out. Nor had he known the fourth time when jogging up the stairs. Nor the seventh as they’d been told to wait until the general was ready to see them. A clueless Barrett really wished he had an answer because this kind of summons didn’t usually occur without a hint. Were they in trouble? About to be commended? Getting bad news?

“Think this meeting has to do with the intense medical screening they put us through?” questioned Freya. The most petite member of their section had been the only one to cheerfully submit to the battery of tests. Bloodwork, tissue samples, measurements of every kind known to medical science that went beyond, height, weight, and blood pressure.

“Must be for something special,” drawled Radley. “I mean, why else make us fill out that questionnaire that wanted to know everything about our personal lives?”

Another oddity. It wanted them to indicate every medical ailment and procedure they’d ever undergone. Had them list every member of their immediate and extended family, whether dead or alive, and then also asked their medical history. Barrett’s didn’t take long. Orphaned at a young age by drug-addicted parents who died of overdoses. No family to take him in. As for his own history, the only time he ever ended up in the hospital had been for a broken arm skateboarding. He'd always been healthy.

“As if anyone can remember every single time they got sick,” Slater remarked.

“I just put from age six to twelve,” Gage added with a laugh. He joked about his heart issue as if it were nothing, and yet Barrett knew it had been a tense time, as he’d almost died several times until the operation that fixed his irregular heartbeat. Gage had only barely managed to get accepted into the military. Blame the loosening of certain regulations given the low sign-up numbers.

“At least you guys didn’t have to do the entire section on periods,” complained Zendaya, her full lips pursing in annoyance.

“I ran out of room when it asked me to list sexual encounters,” bragged Phoenix, the section’s Casanova and lieutenant.

“Bet you needed an extra page to list treated diseases too,” muttered Idris, the most serious member of their section, who rarely engaged in banter but when he did...

“Hey, I’ll have you know I always wear a rubber!” exclaimed Phoenix.

“Says the guy who panicked just last month when that chick you hooked up with claimed she was pregnant,” retorted Slater.

“Which turned out to be a scam,” Phoenix reminded. “She was already prego when we did the tango. She was just looking for someone to pay for the kid.”

Barrett pinched the bridge of his nose as the discussion devolved. “Enough. We’re supposed to be patiently waiting. Next person to speak is gonna drop and give me fifty.”

And what did those assholes do?

Everyone but Idris hit the floor and began pumping them out so they could continue to rag on each other. Barrett really needed to find a more effective discipline measure.

The thick wooden door opened, and Major Stevens poked his head out, sending the section scrambling to their feet to stand at attention. There was rustling as everyone saluted, including Barrett.

The major’s lips pursed. “The general will see you now.”

Barrett marched first into the room, set up boardroom style with a long table flanked by chairs on one side only. He stopped a few feet from it and snapped a salute. His section fell into line behind him, and the click of heels let him know they followed formal military protocol even though most of the people in the room appeared civilian.

Not that it mattered, seeing as how the stony-faced general sat amidst the men and women wearing white coats.

Major Stevens shut the door and took up a position to the left of it. Silence fell as those seated eyed Barrett and his section.

General Davidson—with a reputation for being a hardass and a bit of an asshole—barked, “At ease.”

As his feet spread shoulder width, Barrett dropped his hands behind his back, adopting a more relaxed pose, which belied the tension he couldn’t shake. Why did the general want to meet with them? And why were so many doctors present? Had they picked up a bug on their last mission? It seemed unlikely, seeing as how they’d been at the Petawawa base now for more than a month.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’ve been summoned,” General Davidson said. “And I will get to that in a moment. First off, it goes without saying that nothing we speak of today leaves this room. To ensure that isn’t an issue there will be no outside communication at all.”

“None?” blurted Takhi, the shyest in their group. “But my mother—”

“Will be notified that you are currently unavailable, which I will remind is normal given your line of work,” the general snapped, interrupting Takhi.

Barrett didn’t need to see her face to know it would be stiff and fighting tears. Takhi had learned her mother was in hospice with stage-four cancer, and she’d just submitted her compassionate leave request so she could be with her mother for her final days.

The general drummed his fingers on the table. “I will graciously forgive the outburst, but understand right now, I will brook no other interruption. As it is, count yourself lucky that amongst all the sections tested, yours proved the most promising. A blend of the sexes as well as racial backgrounds that will give us just the right amount of variety.”

At the strange choice of words, Barrett fought to keep his brow from creasing in a frown. Since when did variety matter on a mission?

“You won’t have heard, given the top-secret classification, but I’ve been put in charge of a special project. One that will revolutionize armies, not just in Canada but around the world. As part of the development and testing, I’ve been given leeway to recruit whomever I want for it. Congratulations. Your section won.” The smile sent a shiver down Barrett’s spine.

“Once we’re done with this meeting, you will be leaving directly for the facility, and before you ask, no, you may not pack a bag or call anyone.”

The order led to Takhi ignoring the general’s earlier warning. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I must ask to be excused on compassionate grounds. My mother’s been placed in hospice and—”

The general didn’t let Takhi finish. “This isn’t something any of you can decline.”

“But—”

“Continue to argue, corporal, and you will be placed under arrest for disobeying a senior officer and dereliction of duty.”

That sealed Takhi’s mouth, and Barrett’s unease grew. Usually, in cases such as Takhi’s, where a close family member was gravely ill, concessions were made. Why would the general not simply replace Takhi? Or remove her entirely, given her distraction would be detrimental to the outcome of this secret project?

“As I was saying, your section was chosen only after very careful consideration to participate in this project. There will be no exceptions. Once you leave this room, you will be immediately transported to our North Bay facility to begin undergoing treatments.”

This time, Barrett couldn’t contain himself. “Treatments, sir? As in, medical procedures?”

“Yes. And before you ask, they are experimental in nature.” The general’s expression turned sly. “But you needn’t worry much. We’ve managed to eliminate most of the risks associated with it.”

Really not the most reassuring thing to say and Phoenix took exception. “Excuse me, General, but my contract with the military does not give you permission to use me as a guinea pig.”

“It doesn’t. However, given the nature of this project, special rights have been assigned to me, and that includes recruiting whomever I like,” the general replied with a smug smile.

“I’m pretty sure my lawyer will have something to say about that,” Phoenix replied.

“I’m sure many people would protest what I’m doing if they knew about it. But they won’t ever find out because you won’t have a chance to tattle.” A flat statement that came with a cold stare.

“You can’t conduct experiments on people,” blurted Freya. “It’s against the Nuremberg Code.”

“Can’t isn’t a word that applies to me and my mandate. The moment you walked into this room, you lost all rights and are now military assets to be used as I need, but there is good news. The treatments you’ll be undergoing will turn you into better soldiers. Stronger. Most resistant to injury. Sharper in both acuity and agility. You should be thanking me, as you’ll be getting it for free.”

“This is bullshit,” Phoenix huffed. “I am not agreeing to be a part of this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” snapped Davidson.

“Yeah, I do. Go ahead and court martial my ass. I’ll take defending my actions in front of a panel over being some kind of lab rat. I’m out of here.”

Despite his military training that told him not to let distraction turn his head, Barrett couldn’t help but watch as Phoenix headed for the door, flanked by a pair of military police. They blocked the exit, and Phoenix growled, “Either arrest me or move out of the way.”

The MPs didn’t move, but Major Stevens did, hastening to Phoenix’s side.

Only when Phoenix exclaimed, “What the fuck did you just jab me with?” did Barrett notice the needle in the major’s hand.

What the fuck?

Phoenix immediately slumped to the floor, and Barrett’s stomach tightened into a ball. Something was gravely wrong here. This kind of shit didn’t happen. He whirled to face the civilians watching and, with his jaw tight, growled, “The general is out of line, and you all know it. When his superiors find out what he’s done—”

“They’ll applaud me because, you see, my orders and funding for this project come from the highest levels of government with approval from the prime minister herself. You see, with declining enrollment numbers and the constantly changing challenges facing the world today, from new technology to bio-based weapons and ever more clever terrorists, we need something to help us get an edge on those who see us as weak. It’s time we forced the respect of other countries, who, for too long, have seen the Canadian Military as a joke. They won’t be laughing at us once they see what our new troops can do. On the contrary, they’ll be clamoring for our secret.” The general’s lips pulled into a taut smile. “And we might just sell it to them for the right price.”

Barrett had heard enough. Despite having seen what happened to Phoenix, he couldn’t let the soldiers under his command be subjected to this madness. The major might be able to stop one soldier, but not the remaining eight of them at once.

“Soldiers, with me,” Barrett shouted as he pivoted into motion. He had no real plan other than to rush the door. Once past it, they only needed to escape the anteroom before they entered an area with people. People that wouldn’t stay quiet if they saw military personnel being attacked and drugged into submission.

The MPs by the door stepped aside, seeing Barrett and the seven remaining members of the section rushing them. Barrett didn’t need to say a word for Idris to bend and grab Phoenix, slinging him over his burly shoulder.

Leave no man—or woman—behind.

They made it to the antechamber without anyone being jabbed with a sedative. Barrett aimed for the exit to the hallway, only to find it locked. He pulled and turned at the knob with no success.

“What now, Captain?” huffed Gage.

“We kick it down.” Barrett took a step back and lifted his boot to smash.

Bang. He hit the panel solidly, and it didn’t budge.

“Captain, they appear to have locked us in,” Zendaya reported as she yanked the knob for the door they’d just passed through.

Penned like rats.

“They’ll have to open it at one point,” Barrett growled. “Be ready.”

No one mentioned the fact they might be facing armed military police with their bare hands. By now, they all realized they had no choice but to fight lest they become pawns in a medical experiment peppered with red flags. Surely the prime minister hadn’t approved illegal testing on soldiers? The general must have gone rogue. The outcry once his actions were revealed would be what saved Barrett and the others from being jailed and possibly dishonorably discharged. Of course, that scenario required them escaping first.

“Does anyone else hear hissing?” Slater inquired.

A swivel of Barrett’s head pinpointed the source. The vents in the ceiling, one in each corner, emitted a pale gas.

While knowing it would be useless, he still barked a command. “Cover your mouth and nose. Avoid breathing.”

The soldiers did their best to avoid inhaling the spreading fumes. However, without a properly fitted gas mask, once their lungs grew too tight, they couldn’t avoid taking a breath.

Soon as Barrett sucked in, lethargy spread rapidly through his limbs, stealing his strength. As his knees buckled, he noticed his section falling to the floor one by one. His eyelids grew heavy. Thoughts muddled. His tongue too thick to speak.

Thunk. He lost consciousness before he face-planted, but he sure as hell felt the broken nose and bruising when he woke.

Woke in a concrete chamber wearing only a thin hospital-type gown, alone but for the general’s mocking voice. “Welcome to Project Therianthrope, Patient 73.”

COLLAPSE
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Part of the The Thirteenth Zodiac series:
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He was captured by the enemy, but his heart belongs to her.

I’m gonna lose my warrior card.

Capricorn can’t believe he’s been ordered to hand himself over to the enemy. Exactly how is being experimented on supposed to help save the world? He meets the reason while strapped to a bed.

When Zora finds a metal orb that she can’t identify, despite her experience as a welder and metallurgist, she posts about it online. Big mistake, as she, and the mysterious sphere, end up being abducted in the middle of the night and relocated to an underground cell in Area 51. There she meets Capricorn; hot dude, also a captive, and supposedly some kind of astral warrior. Laughable, right? That’s what she thought, until they busted out and teleport to a tower halfway across the world!

Before Zora gets fully comfortable in a place where magic and science collide—and the sexy Capricorn seduces not only her body, but also her heart—the enemy attacks. It will take courage and quick thinking to keep the tower from falling into evil hands and unleashing a force imprisoned for millennia.

Will Zora and Capricorn survive long enough to give love a chance?

Find a Store

Published: 2025-06-12
Cover Artists:
Do Elle Designs
Genres:
alien romance, genetic experimention, Sci-Fi Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

What a beautiful day. Zora tapped her hands against her steering wheel as she drove to the grocery store. The sunny Saturday morning—yay, the weekend—had her in high spirits. After she completed the adulting tasks, like getting food for the week and doing a bit of a tidy-up, she could hit the garage to start work on her next project.

During the week, she worked as a metallurgist at a company researching ways to combine and use metal. In her spare time, she indulged in her side hustle of creating metal art, which she charged prime prices for. Who knew there was such a big market for owls made out of bolts and nuts, or novelty lawn ornaments?

A sign on the side of the road drew her eye. Garage Sale, AKA used junk no one wanted. However, given the cost of metal, sometimes garage sales could be good for finding scraps for cheap that she could use. Cast iron pans, any kind of copper, even old tools and metal-based odds and ends could be repurposed.

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On a whim, Zora veered, following the arrow on the sign, and headed down a residential road. She easily found the place by the number of cars lining the street. She parked and walked to the driveway crowded with items and people. Tables had been lined up and held heaps of household items; dishes, glasses, stacks of books, and a bunch of eclectic items that all had one theme in common.

Zora’s brows rose as she noticed the seller apparently had a fetish for all things stars and Zodiac. A quick peek at the books showed them either relating to the constellations in the sky or pertaining to the symbolism, from the history to the mysticism around them.

“My uncle was a bit of a nut,” a woman with curly hair and rosy cheeks confided as she sauntered over to Zora’s side.

“By the looks of it, he was really into astrology.”

“Just a bit. When he died, I couldn’t believe the amount of stuff he had stashed.” The woman sighed. “We hadn’t talked in decades. My mom, his sister, says he wasn’t the same after returning from a trip in Australia. Whatever he experienced over there led to his obsession.”

“What’s this?” Zora’s attention was caught by a metal egg-shaped sphere sitting between a large ceramic mug and a vase carved with symbols.

“No idea, but he must have prized it since he had it sitting on the fireplace mantel by itself.”

Zora grabbed the object and frowned as a tiny shock went through her fingers. She turned it over in her hands. “It’s not very heavy.” She hefted it. “Wonder what it’s supposed to be.”

“No idea, but if you want it, I’ll sell it for a buck,” the woman offered. “I want to get rid of as much of this as possible, else it will cost me a fortune hauling it to the dump.”

A dollar? She’d have gone up to five. “Sold.” Zora paid for the metal egg and tucked it under her arm as she kept browsing for other items she could use. She spent another five bucks on a box with some old rusty tools that could be cleaned for use. She almost bought a painting, too, which surprised, as she didn’t usually give a shit about that kind of stuff. However, the canvas, painted by hand and signed by the artist, caught the eye. The image of a very muscled dude, facing away, holding a sword, with a tattoo of the libra scales on his back did intrigue. Seemed like something you’d see on the cover of a romance novel, not hanging in some guy’s house. While intriguing, she couldn’t imagine displaying it, though, and thus chose to leave it behind.

Zora loaded her car with the stuff she’d bought, finished running her errands, and headed home. While she ate a sandwich, she eyed the sphere sitting on her counter. The smooth surface didn’t reflect anything, nor did it glint with the light no matter how she turned it.

What was it made of? Perhaps, despite its metallic appearance, it was painted plastic. Given its light weight, if the shell actually was metal then it would most likely be hollow. She’d soon find out.

The garage attached to her house had been converted into a workshop that included a welder, workbench, mini forge, basin with a faucet that she could fill for cooling, and a pegboard on the wall holding a variety of tools.

She set the sphere in a vise before grabbing a knife with the intent of peeling the surface. The tip of the blade slid across the orb without leaving a scratch. Hunh. Unexpected. Applying the drill to it to create a hole also failed. She took a reciprocating saw to it next, the jagged carbide teeth sharp enough to cut through anything.

The saw whirred, the blade screed, all to no effect. She blinked at the unmarred object. Definitely not plastic, but what kind of metal could withstand what she’d done thus far? None she could think of off the top of her head but she wasn’t giving up. On the contrary, the mystery intrigued.

Zora put on her welding mask and fired up her torch. A white-hot flame jetted from the nozzle, and she ran it over the orb, back and forth, before holding it in one spot.

The metal didn’t melt. Hell, it didn’t even change color. She held a hand over it, expecting to feel radiating heat off it, but instead felt nothing. When she poked it right after, preparing herself for a singed fingertip, the surface temp of it remained the same.

Definitely strange. She didn’t recall ever studying a metal that didn’t heat. As she ate some lunch, she pored over textbooks left over from her years at university. She went through the index, seeking out metals with the toughest properties. Tungsten, which had a crazy high melting point, titanium, chromium…

In her attempt to identify, she tried everything she could think of, even swung at it with a mallet!

Boing.

Her arms trembled from the reverberation, and the unmarred orb mocked.

What the ever-loving fuck?

Zora went to bed that night completely puzzled and woke in the morning determined to figure out the mystery. She logged onto some of her forums, the small community of metalsmiths always eager to help each other—and show off their talent.

She posted an image of the sphere and detailed her issues in identifying it.

Most of the comments that poured in over the course of the day proved unhelpful.

Alien artifact. Bury it deep! She doubted it was ET-crafted. However, it did make her wonder if it came from some kind of meteor. It would explain why she couldn’t class it.

Anyone can tell that’s not metal, claimed another comment. She, and her expertise, begged to differ.

Probably an ancient dragon egg. Try dropping it in a lava stream to see if it will hatch. Given she’d roasted it hot enough to melt rock, she doubted the suggestion would do anything.

How much for it? A direct message from Seeker419.

Sell it? She wasn’t averse to making a few bucks. Before she could reply, the next DM stated, I’ll give you a thousand bucks.

The offer raised her brows. That was quite the chunk of change for something that had cost her a dollar. Tempting, but at the same time, it made her wonder, what did Seeker419 know? And would they offer higher?

She replied with, Not for sale. Just looking for ideas on how I can use it.

It’s useless to you. I’ll give you ten K for it.

Ten! Holy fuck, the shit she could buy with that. But why, if it was so useless, would they be wanting to spend that much?

Is this some kind of ancient artifact? That might explain their eagerness to claim it.

Twenty thousand. Final offer.

Zora stared at the screen in disbelief. Twenty fucking thousand. Their desperation shone through. Would they offer more?

Let me think about it.

She logged off and leaned back in her seat, contemplating the sphere. She grabbed it, her fingertips tingling each time she touched it.

“What are you?” she murmured. Did it really matter? Even if she could figure out how to use it, she’d never make that much money selling whatever she created with it. Perhaps she should tell Seeker419 she accepted before they changed their mind.

In the morning. Perhaps by then, they’d have sweetened the deal a bit more.

For some reason, she took the metal ball to bed with her, and had a dream of a dark place with a voice that yelled, Wake up!

Zora’s eyes shot open just as someone slapped a damp cloth over her mouth and nose. The acrid stench of whatever coated it made her eyes water and close.

She woke—who knew how much later—in a locked room that looked an awful lot like a cell with its concrete walls and a thin pad on the floor. No window, just a single metal door that wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard she yanked.

Fear had her heart pounding, and panic had her screaming, “What the fuck? Let me out.”

To her surprise, she got a reply.

“You should have accepted the offer.”

Chapter 1

Capricorn crouched behind a wooden crate, waiting. He kept his breathing shallow lest it be heard. Hunting took patience. The slightest movement, sound, even a soft exhalation, could give away his position.

The sword in his hand fit comfortably. Some of his brothers liked to rely on firearms. Capricorn tended to choose what fit the situation. A gun could be practical in some fights, the long-range missile giving a kill without getting close, but sometimes silence was needed, and for that, a sharp blade did the trick.

The hairs on his nape lifted, and without even turning to look, Capricorn whirled and swung, scything his sword across the creature that crept up behind. He took it out just above the joint for its leg, toppling the oversized hairy beast. Another twirl took its head.

Victory!

The training simulation suddenly faded to show a flashing message midair. Aries wants you in his office asap.

The boss must have a new mission. Sweet. Training in the safety of Tower was all well and good, but Capricorn preferred to be in the field actually making a difference. As a Zodiac Warrior, he had a duty to protect Earth and its inhabitants from the monsters that human law enforcement was ill-equipped to handle.

He exited the chamber they used for battle simulation and headed up the stairs, wondering where he’d be going next. Hopefully, somewhere warm. While the cold didn’t affect the warriors, he preferred the freedom of movement that came with having to wear fewer layers so he didn’t stand out. People tended to remark on a guy standing out in freezing weather wearing only a T-shirt and shorts.

A brisk knock on the bossman’s door led to a shouted, “Come in.”

Upon entering the office, Capricorn noticed Aries sitting behind his desk looking grim. Then again, the man rarely wore a different expression. The sight of Sage, Aries’ wife, sitting in a chair, hands resting over her rounded belly had him tingling in anticipation. Only one reason she’d be present. Looked like it was his turn to be sent on a mythic quest.

“So, we have a mission for you,” Aries started to say.

“Hell yeah. My turn to Indiana Jones the shit out of the next artifact. Yeehaw.” Capricorn rubbed his hands together. He’d heard the stories of how his brothers had found some ancient relics. Locating long-lost caverns, evading traps, solving puzzles… Capricorn couldn’t wait to crush his mission.

“Not exactly,” Aries replied. “Seems like Cetus already has it in their custody. Your job is to extract it from their secret base in Area 51.”

The statement raised Capricorn’s brow. “Um, isn’t that an old military installation, meaning I can’t beam in—or out.” Something about the underground base prevented them from using their starbeaming power, a fancy word for essentially dematerializing in one place and ending up in another—hopefully with everything intact.

“Yes. Plus, it’s going to be guarded to the nines,” Aries added, steepling his fingers.

The info brought a frown. “Then how exactly am I supposed to retrieve it? We going in with the whole gang?”

“No, just you,” Aries stated.

It was Sage who next murmured, “I’m afraid, for this next task to work, you’ll have to be captured.”

His jaw dropped. “You want me to lose on purpose?” The very idea made him cringe.

“It’s the only way to win,” Sage replied. “Yours is the most important task, because if you fail, the world dies with you.”

No pressure.

Fuck.

“Are we sure about the captured part? I mean, surely there’s a backdoor I can sneak in, locate the relic, and then hightail it out. Soon as I get it outside, I should be able to beam my ass and the artifact out of there.”

Aries glanced at Sage, who shook her head. “Attempting to enter via subterfuge will fail.”

“But I’ll succeed if I let them nab me?”

“Maybe.”

He arched a brow. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

Sage waved her hands. “The future is murky beyond your capture. I don’t see if you succeed or not. All I know is, it has to be you who attempts to retrieve it.”

“I have every faith in you,” Aries added. “After all, weren’t you bragging just the other night about being the best on the team?”

He had. In Capricorn’s defense, he’d downed a few shots of whiskey. “How soon should I leave?”

“In the morning,” Sage declared. “But I wouldn’t recommend starbeaming too close to the site.”

“Let me guess, you saw that going bad.”

“Well, you’d still end up where you should be, but how do you feel about a new scar?”

“Chicks dig scars.”

“This one would run from jawline to eye socket and you’d lose part of your left ear.”

Mar his pretty face? “Guess I’m taking a portal then. Anything else I should know?”

Sage stared at him with eyes that swirled with freakiness. “This mission will either make or break the world.”

“In other words, don’t fuck up,” Aries growled.

“Who, me?” Capricorn exclaimed. Then grinned. “Don’t worry. I got this.” Because failure wasn’t an option.

Despite being told he should hand himself over to the bad guys, Capricorn spent some time looking for another option. A warrior did not simply give up! Although he couldn’t help recalling Sage’s conviction that capture gave him the best shot. Handing himself over to the bad guys would certainly get him inside, but still, knowing Cetus—a company with nefarious dealings that on the surface appeared to be all about the climate and fixing it, but they were actually seeking the same artifacts as the Zodiacs and had tried to kidnap some of his brothers—he worried about what they’d do once they had him in their clutches.

With the help of Aquarius, their tech guy, they took a peek at Area 51. Aquarius pulled up satellite images of Area 51, of which there were only few because, imagine that, the government didn’t want plebes spying on their super-secret site. Although there were plenty who tried via all kinds of means. Renting a plane to fly over and take pics. Using drones fitted with cameras. Plenty of shaky video of folks trying to climb the fence and getting caught right away.

What he did learn was the site comprised a few buildings and hangars, but everyone knew the true facility was underground. While they could find no schematics for the base, Capricorn did get a feel for the terrain surrounding it.

Area 51 resembled a barren-ish wasteland. Scorching heat during the day led to hard-packed dirt and scrubby plants. Despite its less-than-hospitable climate, the area was popular enough to support a variety of alien-themed restaurants and stores selling related merchandise. People trekked to the spot from around the world in the hopes of catching a glimpse of something they could post about online.

When it came to infiltrating, Capricorn could easily evade the checkpoints manned by soldiers by climbing the chain-link fence plastered with Restricted Area signs. However, those weren’t the only protective measures being used to keep people out.

Aquarius zoomed in on an image of the perimeter and pointed. “Seems like there are sensors for motion detection not just running along the fence line but also sporadically placed within the secured area. I see cameras as well.”

“What if I starbeamed right outside a ventilation shaft to avoid them?” Capricorn asked, even as he recalled Sage’s warning. He wasn’t keen on a disfiguring scar.

“One, we’d have to find one. Their vents are camouflaged pretty well. Second, I would wager all ingress points have, if not cameras then, most likely, alarms.”

“Can’t you remotely disable them?” Capricorn asked.

“If I had access to their network, yes, but it appears they run everything internally, meaning no one can do shit from the outside. Even if I could divert the cameras and motion sensors and entry point alarms, there’s the AI drones.”

“Bah, drones are easy to shoot down, and given they rely on someone controlling them, surely you can intercept the signal.”

“Not these ones.” Aquarius pulled up some videos he found on the dark web, which showed a dark-colored, military-grade drone. “They’ve got Skynet two point oh’s roaming the sky. They don’t require a human operator, as their AI programming has them smart enough to fly themselves. They are also unhackable, at least according to my hacker peers, as well as bulletproof. I don’t see how you can avoid being spotted by one.”

Capricorn sighed. “So what you’re saying is, I’m either going in guns blazing and shooting the fuck out of everything, or I’m letting them capture me.”

“You know Sage wouldn’t have suggested it without reason.”

And usually, the warriors listened. After all, she was rarely mistaken in her advice.

Still, Capricorn couldn’t help but whine. “It just feels so wrong to hand myself over to Cetus. I thought that was the last thing we wanted, given they’ve been trying to get their hands on us to do some sciency shit.” AKA, Cetus wanted to dissect and analyze what made the Zodiac Warriors special.

“I doubt they’ll figure out what makes us special. It’s more than genetics.” A reminder that their powers, given to them by the stars themselves, were astrophysical in nature. Or, as outsiders called it, magical.

“You think it’s true they have the third artifact?” Aquarius asked.

“Sage claimed they do, and she also keeps muttering about a thirteenth Zodiac,” reminded Capricorn, and that wasn’t the pregnancy hormones talking.

A previously blank medallion in the portal room—which until now had only twelve spots for the dozen warriors—was two-thirds full. What would happen when it became whole? Would a new warrior suddenly join them?

“You know, there is some historical basis for a thirteenth, called Ophiuchus, the serpent bearer.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Me neither, until I started researching, and oddly enough, my information didn’t come from Tower’s library, but the internet.”

The revelation brought a frown. “Since when doesn’t Tower have the deets on something with historical basis?”

Aquarius shrugged. “Dunno. Kind of weird, right? But then again, given how that thirteenth dais in the portal room was blank until we started finding the artifacts, I am thinking the thirteenth Zodiac must have been wiped.”

“For a reason, one would suppose.” Capricorn pursed his lips. “Do you think his return is what will cause the world grief?”

“What did Sage say?”

“Nothing. I mean, she did say this mission was do or die for everyone. I have a hard time believing a Zodiac Warrior would turn to evil. We were chosen specifically because we’re heroes.”

“Anti-heroes,” Aquarius corrected. “Supposedly the true ones don’t kill.”

“Which is dumb,” Capricorn retorted. “Defeated bad guys don’t suddenly become good. If you don’t end them, then they’ll just start their shit again.”

“Agreed. Preaching to the choir, bro. I’m just saying there’s a fine line between the anti-hero and villain. I mean, look at Leo. He was borderline for a while there. I know Aries was watching him close to make sure he didn’t end up on the dark side.”

“Leo’s too noble to ever do anything that would merit discipline.”

“All it takes is the right push.”

“Well, the man is right as rain now that he’s got his kid back and his hot doctor girlfriend.” Lucky bastard. Capricorn would admit to being a bit jealous seeing all the happy couples. Aries and Sage had been together forever, but the recent hookups of Leo and Sagittarius with some chicks had him wondering if he’d ever find the right gal to settle down with. Hopefully one with a juicy booty.

“Still can’t believe Leo’s ex-wife fucked him over like that.”

Capricorn could. He’d seen the calculating look in Kylie’s eye the first time Leo brought her to Tower. The Tower of Babylon held untold riches and could do literal magic. He was sure more than a few outsiders brought here by circumstance had wondered how to exploit it. In Kylie’s case, it turned out she used Leo to birth a kid. A kid who ended up with powers like Sage. A child used by her own mother to try to bring the Zodiacs down. Only, in the end, Kylie’s plot failed because her daughter—Olivia—caught on and managed to orchestrate her own rescue.

The reminder of what Olivia could do had Capricorn dropping by Leo’s place for a quick visit. The big man answered the door wearing the little girl on his shoulders.

“Wassup?” Leo asked, letting Capricorn in.

“Just getting ready to go on a mission.”

“He wants me to tell him he doesn’t have to be captured,” the sweet—and much too perceptive—Olivia stated.

“Is there another way?” he asked, much too hopefully.

“No.” Olivia cocked her head. “It won’t be so bad, Uncle Corn. Zora’s going to be there too.”

“Who’s Zora?”

“You’ll see,” the child sang.

“Did you just come to grill my kid?” Leo growled.

“I was hoping for a second opinion, yes.” Capricorn sighed. “Guess I’m off to be captured.”

“Don’t worry, bro, if you get stuck, I’ll come rescue you.”

Capricorn’s lips twisted. “And never let me forget it.”

He left with Leo’s booming laughter following.

There seemed little point in packing much, seeing how he’d have it confiscated soon as he turned himself over. Capricorn just grabbed a few basics before he portalled out to the West Coast and rented a motorcycle for the drive to Nevada. Nicer than starbeaming, if he was going to be honest, the biggest downfall being the long drive gave him time to think about what might happen.

Would those guarding Area 51 shoot him on sight? A possibility.

Did his capture entail getting stuffed into a cage and having parts of his body trimmed off? That would really suck.

What about being forced to run on a treadmill like a hamster? They’d get bored before he got tired.

Subjected to electroshock therapy? No big deal. He’d once grabbed a whipping live wire to prevent it from electrocuting a bunch of people.

The absolute worst thing they could do to Capricorn, other than killing him of course, would be to have him fail his mission. He’d hate to end his winning streak.

Once he reached Rachel, Nevada, the town closest to Area 51, he stopped in at a trailer modified to appear like a flying space saucer. Edge of the Galaxy Curios and Gadgets, a store catering to certain types, not that Capricorn paid much mind to the posters and alien plushies. He browsed the rack of T-shirts in search of the perfect one.

He swapped into his newly purchased “I Believe shirt” before finishing his trip, driving right up to the entrance of Area 51. A pair of soldiers, holding guns, emerged from a shack.

Capricorn parked his bike and got off it, using a slow saunter to approach the men, one of whom barked, “Turn around, sir. This is a restricted area.”

“I’m pretty sure your bosses inside will want to see me. Name is Capricorn.”

“Sir, you need to get back on that bike and leave, now, before we’re forced to take you into custody.” The man with a stripe on his arm pointed up the road.

Capricorn held out his hands. “Go ahead. Arrest me.”

“Fuck off. We ain’t got time for this,” snapped the soldier with the patchy mustache.

Capricorn glanced around. “Yeah, I can see you’re real busy guarding against the invisible horde storming this place.”

“It’s like you’re cruising for a bruising,” snarled Patchy.

“Go ahead and hit me, but I warn you, no crying when you hurt your hand. Leo says I’ve got a jaw of stone.” Which Capricorn considered to be the highest compliment.

“You’re starting to piss me off.” Patchy bristled and lifted the barrel of his weapon, leading to his partner putting a hand on his arm.

“You can’t be shooting civilians.”

“Then why give us a gun?” Patchy argued.

“Hello, still here, waiting for you to arrest me,” Capricorn interrupted. “I promise, your boss will be happy you brought me in.”

“We don’t arrest folk. We send them on their way,” explained the calmer soldier.

Beep. Beep. The walkie at Patchy’s waist went off, and he held it up, clicking the button to mutter, “This is Exit One. Copy.”

“Bring that man to Zone 3,” said a crackling male voice.

“Looks like you’re getting your wish,” the nice soldier said. “If you’d give us your hands.”

“Ooh, you’re going to cuff me. Now we’re talking.” Capricorn held out his wrists and fought to not move as they placed the zip ties around them. This felt so wrong. Willingly submitting to capture.

But the embarrassment of it didn’t kill his humor. On the contrary, he had the biggest shit-eating grin as he said, “Take me to your leader.”

COLLAPSE
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