Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 666
Chapter 666: Find The Remaining Horsemen
The Turner’s secret Hideout
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It was the witching hour, but not everyone slept. Beneath an abandoned warehouse, The Turners were wide awake manufacturing chaos.
From the outside, the building was nothing more than a rotting warehouse on the pier, with the windows cracked, roof sagging, and a rusted sign clinging to the wall by one bolt. Anyone who passed by would assume it was condemned.
Because that was the point.
Beneath the warehouse, hidden behind a false panel in the floor and accessed by a freight elevator, was the real operation:
The Turner’s underground lab.
Rows of stainless-steel tables stretched across the concrete bunker, cluttered with trays of syringes, vials filled with milky liquid, and bags of chemical compounds. The Industrial ventilation fans hummed overhead, struggling against the sting of chemicals in the air.
A voice called her attention. “The boy has taken the bait, madam. He just placed an order for another supply.”
At once, Vera’s red lips curved into a slow, pleased smile. Not that she hadn’t seen it coming, but it was exciting knowing her plan was taking shape.
“So my first horseman has been activated,” She tapped her short fingers against the woman’s working table. “How many more doses before the drug kills him?”
“One…” the worker replied without hesitation. “Two, if he’s extremely lucky. He should already be feeling the side effects.”
Vera hummed thoughtfully. “He won’t stop. Not now. He’s already hooked. The drug fills the void in him and gives him a purpose. He’d crawl through hell to get it again.”
They walked toward another workstation where multiple monitors showed live feeds inside Noah and Anthony’s small apartment from all angles.
Yes. They were watching.
What Noah and dear Anthony don’t know was that Vera Turner had specifically picked them. Then she secretly installed cameras inside their homes. Not that either of them would have noticed, the father was always drunk, while the boy was too busy trying to meet up with life.
On-screen, Noah was curled in his bed, shivering violently. His face was pale and damp with sweat, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. The crash after IGNIS was brutal, more than double the withdrawal of ordinary drugs. But it was the pain that kept users crawling back for more.
“He’s a first-time user?” Vera asked to be sure.
“According to our files, yes. Average student. Poor. Isolated. Lives with an alcoholic father who hates werewolves.” The woman asked her, “Why choose the boy? Why not the father? His hatred is worse.”
Vera chuckled.
“Because men like the father are all bark and no teeth. Cowards with loud voices. But the boy—” she leaned down, studying Noah’s shaking form on the monitor “—he’s naive, lonely, and desperate. Vulnerable. People like him don’t just break, they shatter. He’s perfect for the role.”
She straightened, eyes gleaming. “Although, I hope he overcomes the withdrawal enough to fulfill his purpose.”
A brilliant thought hit her.
“For his next supply,” she said, “don’t just deliver it. Demand a demonstration. Push him toward the direction we want, if you know what I mean.”
The worker nodded with assurance. “Understood, ma’am.”
“Good,” Vera said, walking deeper into the underground lair. Then she spotted her brother Joseph lounging nearby, his feet up on a crate, sipping his beer while their resident hacker worked beside him.
Vera approached them excited.
“Brother,” she purred, “tell me you have our next horsemen.”
Joseph flashed her a lazy smile. “Oh, we have a few. Jordan, show her.”
Jordan, wiry and sharp-eyed, spun in his chair and turned the monitor toward her.
“We filtered targets based on one requirement,” he explained, tapping the screen. “Documented hostility toward werewolves.”
And on the screen, a digital board of faces and profiles appeared, each with their photos and a short summary.
“There’s Mason and Maddy.” Jordan introduced, “Age, thirty four and thirty two. Brother and sister with a track record of breaking into a werewolf-owned grocery. They have strong anti-wolf sentiment.”
He went on. “Next is Calvin. He’s Twenty-seven. A former security guard who was fired for hitting a beta wolf outside a nightclub. He is a strong racist and has anger issues.”
“Next.” Vera said, bored.
“Jane Rivers. Age twenty, she’s an influencer and publicly spreads conspiracy theories that wolves are ‘infecting human bloodlines’ . She has a massive online reach.”
Vera rolled her eyes. She was not impressed.
Jordan scratched his head yet moved to his next victim.
“Thomas Hattie. Age thirty-nine. He’s a taxi driver with multiple complaints on record for refusing wolf passengers. One of the incident turned violent.”
Jordan studied her expression and when there was not an ounce of excitement, he hurriedly moved to the next, “These are couples with criminal records tied to anti-wolf harassment. We could slip them Ignis, and they’d be strong enough to take down a werewolf couple easily.”
“No. No. No!” Vera threw her hands up. “This is not what I want. That won’t give the effect I want. People will sympathize with the werewolves. A husband and wife attacking another couple?” She scoffed. “It’s just like every other news out there.”
She took a step back and spoke theatrically.
“I want drama. I want something that fractures public sentiment. A story where humans finally get to be the victims people root for.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “You always need everything to be extra,” he muttered.
That comment triggered her. Vera slammed her hand against the metal table and the men jerked back.
“Extra is how wars start,” she hissed.
Her eyes burned with conviction as she gestured broadly, pacing the area.
“Picture it. An unpopular teenager girl desperately falls in love with the handsome quarterback who turns out to be her childhood friend. But she can’t have him because he’s wrapped around a prettier, meaner half-breed who torments her daily.”
Her smile turned vicious.
“Give that girl Ignis. Give her such power and she’d flip the script.”
Vera suddenly leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper dripping with satisfaction, “It’s going to be a bloody provocation.”