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at Kelvin. He knew Massimo was a vampire and could take care of himself, but he always asked anyway. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, my friend. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kelvin had brought the cart back in after the zombie incident, since he knew there would be a lot of empty bottles. Massimo would enlist Leandro’s help to refill them all the next day. The lad had been gone long enough. A little extra work wouldn’t hurt him.

The thought of his son being gone for so long did worry Massimo, though. He knew his son was strong and smart, but anything could happen in this crazy world. Your basement could explode, you could solve a murder, or you might have to kill the vicar when he turned cannibal.

You just never knew where the day would take you.

Massimo got the cart and headed back home with the hope that Leandro would have some exciting stories to banish some of the gloominess from the day. He would settle for just having the boy home again so he knew he was safe.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Leandro got to Pinewood as quickly as he could. He was worn out, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Then he did stop—he was still a wolf! He wished he had told the townsfolk that he was a Were. It would make walking into town a lot easier. He needed to change quickly.

Leandro lay down in the forest at the edge of the town, but then he realized that if he turned back into a human, he’d be as naked as the day he was born. That would also freak the townspeople out. He didn’t care about showing off his bits and pieces to the world. It was the trigger-happy townies that worried him.

Leandro saw that the smoke was coming up from behind the church, so he checked there first. His dad wasn’t there, but he smelled the ghastly stench of burning flesh. He wrinkled his black nose and swiftly put the fire behind him.

He decided to run to the only clothes store in town, Leeming’s. It was named after the owner, whose family worked as the only tailors in Pinewood. Massimo had made sure the town had everything it needed, and right now, Leandro needed clothes.

Leandro made it around the back of the store without anyone seeing him. He could hear the noise coming from the Old Dog. It sounded like a party was going on. He was relieved by that because it meant that Massimo was either in the Old Dog or he’d made sure the party was well underway and slipped out. Leandro smiled, hoping the latter was the case.

He wanted to get home to his dad, have a drink on the sofa, and watch a trashy television show from centuries ago. He laid down on the grass on his side, pulled his legs up a little, and started to turn back into a human.

But it didn't work. He was still a wolf! Panic rushed over him.

What the hell’s going on? he thought. I have to change back. I need to see my dad. Clear your mind, focus on being a man. Turn back into Leandro.

Back on Level One, Afana stared at the monitors. Normally all twenty-five screens, each split into four images, displayed every corner of the bunker. Right now all of them were black.

“Why am I looking at black screens?” Afana asked with barely restrained rage. None of his advisors answered, which was the wrong answer.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Afana was trying to stop an epidemic, locate any red-eyed monsters lurking around, and track down a traitor hiding under his very nose. And every single one of those tasks required the fucking monitors to work.

Afana slammed his fist on the metal table, making everything on the table—as well as all the men in the room—jump. He left a huge-ass dent where his fist had landed.

He swept his burning eyes over the assembled advisors. He was about two seconds away from murdering every single one of them. “Whose fucking job is it to keep these fucking monitors running?”

George, the monitor technician, swallowed hard and tried not to vomit. He wanted to step forward and say something, but his body refused to obey. He simply couldn’t move.

Then the world moved for him. All the other advisors shrank away from him at the same time, leaving him standing alone and trembling in an empty circle. Thanks a lot, dicks.

“It’s my job, sir,” he managed.

Afana glared at him. “Well, give me a status report.”

The fact that George was still alive gave him a confidence boost. His voice sounded much less shaky when he spoke again.

“I had to reboot the system to identify which cameras aren’t functioning properly.”

“And?” Afana prompted.

“I’ve located the broken cameras,” George said. “But I need to repair the cameras first before the system will come back online. The screens will stay blank until the cameras are fixed.”

“Well, that’s a stupid design for a security system,” Afana said.

George nodded, feeling more at ease with the situation. “I agree, sir. Whoever designed it didn’t know what they were doing.”

Afana shot the advisor a dirty look. “I designed the system, George.”

The technician fought the bile rising in his throat. Outwardly, his face looked calm, but inside his brain was screaming the word “Fuck” over and over again in an infinite loop.

Afana didn’t wait for him to respond. He was just fucking with him anyway. He had designed the system, but it had been a stupid choice.

“It doesn’t matter,” Afana said. “What does matter is getting this shit up and running, George. You’ve blinded me here—right when I’m trying to save all your miserable lives.”

George nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“So, how about you go fix the goddamn cameras already?”

George turned and gave the stink-eye to the guards at the door. “I can’t, sir. They won’t let me out.”

The guards by the door straightened up now that they were in the hot seat. Afana scrubbed a hand over his

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