Free Blood Mate: The Project Rebellion, Book 2 by Mina Carter

guards the mutts with pointy sticks. How’d you like that, huh?”
    He stalked between the tables, bellowing into the faces of the soldiers still sitting down and she realized that she’d never hated anyone so much. Finally he reached her. Perhaps some instinct of self preservation warned him that the likely reaction to yelling in her face was decapitation, because he stopped, straightened and looked at her with a sneer.
    “I suppose you’re just as useless as the rest of this lot. Should have known never to send a woman to do a man’s job. I knew should have sent McCoy…this never would have happened then.”
    She lifted an eyebrow, no longer caring it counted as minor insubordination. At least his attention was on her now, giving the rest of the room a reprieve.
    “No sir, perhaps not. But I also doubt that you’d have one of Alpha Three locked down nice and tight in the LY labs.”
    “What?” Surprise flashed across his features, and then he smiled. Just for a second. Pity he was such a dickhead. Without the stick up his ass and the “the world owes me” attitude, he might not be that bad looking. After a couple of drinks of course. Then he ruined the moment, casting a glance to the room over his shoulder. “The rest of you, dismissed. That means fuck off. Now.”
    He turned back to her and leaned forward, resting his steepled fingertips on the table. “You brought one in? Who? Harper?”
    She shook her head. “Nope, couldn’t get him. He was too deep in with the rest.”
    There it was—the warning pout as Fitzgerald’s expression darkened. Crap, the room wasn’t clear yet. She had to get his attention back before he started to beat on a man who should be lying in bed recovering, not walking around playing soldier to appease this jerk-off. Opening her mouth, she forced the words out past her guilt, as though naming the man she’d brought in was somehow worse than locking him down with silver and delivering him here.
    “We got his second instead. Foster.”

Chapter Six
    Armed with the news Foster was in custody, Colonel Fitzgerald hustled off toward the Lycan labs in a happy mood. With a sense of unease, Toni watched him go. Even if she’d wanted to follow him, she couldn’t. Not into the Lycan labs. They wouldn’t let her because of the risk of cross-infection. A minute danger, but possible all the same. Perhaps more. Although she’d told the two med-techs earlier Hybrids were an urban myth, she wasn’t entirely convinced herself.
    There had been a rumor, way back when, about a Hybrid. An accident in the labs with the serums or something, a drop of the wrong virus in a vial, or someone making a mistake and reusing a needle. The stories were all different. The end result was the same. One of the subjects had gotten a mixed dose of the Blood and Lycan viruses and it had created a Hybrid—a creature so powerful the Project had freaked out.
    According to some stories, the Hybrid had killed the entire medical staff on duty before tearing through the camp, only to be put down by the machine gun towers. And in others it had been cornered by four humvees and taken out with heavy weaponry. In all of the stories, the body count was high and the Hybrid had taken massive damage before being killed.
    Shaking her head at her own foolishness for considering the story, she put the thought to the back of her mind and walked down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Lycan labs. She grimaced, rubbing a hand over her stomach and trying to smooth away the uneasiness. There was nothing she could do to help Foster, and with the amount of sedative she’d shoved into his system, he’d be out for at least another couple of hours. That’s if he were sensible and didn’t try and sweat the stuff out. If he were sensible, he’d play dead. There was no point torturing a man who couldn’t answer questions. Even Fitz wasn’t that sadistic.  
    Her long strides ate up the distance through the maze of corridors in