The Lycan Collapse (The Flux Age Book 2)

by Steven J Shelley

  “Let’s take our minds off what happened today,” he said intently. “You hungry?”

  Florence grinned. The effect lit up the whole shop floor.

  “Ravenous,” she growled.

  Maxim’s Deli on Broadway was humble, welcoming, and most importantly, delicious. Florence wolfed her Reuben with such gusto that Julian struggled to keep up.

  “I’m sorry,” Florence said after Julian was forced to wipe some mustard off her lower lip. “They don’t exactly teach you table manners in the Nursery.”

  “You were reared as a lycan from birth?” Julian asked, trying to sound casual.

  Florence’s face clouded over briefly. “I was,” she said with a trace of emotion. “My mother died in childbirth.”

  “And the lycans took you in?”

  “Not quite,” Florence said, seemingly unwilling to say more.

  “Was she a lycan?” Julian prompted gently.

  “Yes,” Florence said, her eyes moistening. Julian recognized he was entering dangerous territory and needed to be very, very careful. All his work could be undone in one careless moment.

  “You spent some time in the cercarium, didn’t you?” he asked in a neutral tone.

  Florence looked up sharply at Julian. “How do you know of our lore?”

  Julian laid a placating hand over Florence’s. She flinched slightly, but didn’t withdraw it. A good sign. She wanted to believe in him.

  “You’ve been candid with me, and I honor you for that,” he said with genuine honesty. “It’s my turn to tell you about me. My parents died when I was six. I was old enough to remember them.”

  “I’m sorry,” Florence said.

  “I carry the memory with me,” Julian said. “It’s my most cherished possession.”

  Julian hoped his meaning was clear. Florence would know that he was a rich and powerful man. Heir and CEO to one of the largest companies in the world. It was important that she understand what he valued in life.

  “My father was from the Vevestri line,” Julian continued. “A wealthy mercantile family from northern Italy. Their proud tradition can be traced back through history, right back to the Dark Ages.”

  Florence’s eyes widened. “Vevestri,” she repeated. “I see that name a lot in the texts I read from our library.”

  Julian nodded. “That’s because my family were very similar to the lycans, except in reverse. The Lycan Society stood up to protect human civilisation and culture from being lost forever during the last Flux Age. The Vevestris took it upon themselves to protect aquilan lore from being lost once the last aquilan died out. Now that my people are returning, we have access to Flux knowledge the lycans can only dream about.”

  Florence stared at Julian for several seconds, perhaps deciding whether to trust him or not. He tried to project a cool, calm air, mindful that this was a critical moment.

  Finally, Florence spoke. “You were right about the cercarium. I spent my first year of life trapped in those walls. I don’t remember anything specific, but occasionally I dream about that time. My mother’s body. It was near me the whole time. Nourishing me. It’s hard to explain.”

  “The cercarium,” Julian said quietly. “It’s what kept you lycans alive after the last Flux Age faded.”

  Florence met Julian’s gaze. “It did,” she said. “And that’s why we guard it so fiercely.”

  Florence had clearly decided to be honest with Julian, but there was also a hint of a threat in those words. Julian nodded, letting go of Florence’s hand. The boundaries had been established, but that didn’t mean there was no prospect of intimacy between them.

  Julian smiled at Florence, sensing a change in tone was required.

  “You follow the Knicks?”

  Florence beamed. “You kidding? Only for the last fifty years.”

  The pair stood as Julian paid the bill. “Just how old are you anyway?” he asked.

  “Kinda rude to ask a lady,” Florence teased, “But I’m almost twenty-one.”

  Julian blinked.

  “… in my second century of life.”

  Julian’s frown collapsed into an easy smile as they left Maxim’s and emerged into the cold street. He didn’t know what to make of Florence’s age. It fascinated and intimidated him in equal measure. What had she seen? Where had she traveled? There were so many questions.

  Now that there was a game to attend, Julian had a pit stop to make. This time it was his turn to purchase a change of clothes. In the end he selected a pair of simple linen trousers and a casual jacket.

  “You make it look effortless,” Florence commented as they left the store.

  “Hey, I was raised on the upper east side,” Julian said with a grin. “My uncle would never leave the house without a double-breasted suit.”

  “I never thought I could date someone like you,” Florence said, shaking her head.

  “So is that what this is? A date?” Julian asked teasingly.

  “Hey you had me when you mentioned the Knicks,” Florence said.

  “Which reminds me,” Julian said. “We need a … taxi!”

  The pair reached Madison Square Garden with time to spare. That night the Knicks were hosting the Bulls and a full house was expected.

  “Don’t tell me …” Florence groaned as Julian led her down the packed terraces of the huge stadium. The aquilan grinned as he marched his date right up to a courtside row of seats and claimed two in the middle.

  “Perks of the job,” he said a little sheepishly. “I’m usually hosting some boring businessman. Much happier with this situation.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Florence beamed as the players were announced amid general euphoric cheering. “I could never tell my friends I scored courtside seats.”

  “Then don’t,” Julian said with a smile. “I’m happy to keep your dirty secrets.”

  The game was a close one. The Bulls eventually got up by three points. Julian enjoyed Florence’s animated support more than the actual game.

  “Your cussing vocabulary is something I aspire to,” he said as the final horn sounded.

  Florence smiled, embarrassed. “Come on, the ref was clearly on the take,” she said grumpily. “I thought my heart was about to finally quit on me.”

  Florence was about to head for the exit like everyone else but Julian grabbed her hand.

  “No need for that,” he said cryptically, leading her further up into the highest seats.

  “Something tells me you have a particular view in mind?” Florence said with a knowing grin.

  Julian played dumb as they stepped into an elevator and rode it to the roof.

  “Just one thing,” Florence murmured as they stood facing each other. “You said you were from the Vevestri line. Why is your surname Banes?”

  “My mother’s maiden name,” Julian explained. “The Vevestri name is something I’m proud of. But my family had a lot of enemies. My parents were killed by a ruthless man in 1976. A German. One day I’ll find him and I’ll kill him.”

  Florence stared at Julian and he realized he sounded like a crazed obsessive all of a sudden. He didn’t know where that had come from, only that it had been bubbling away in his mind for some time now. What a moment to let it all gush out! But Florence didn’t seem put off by Julian’s admission. On the contrary, she stepped forward and looked at Julian with emotion.

  “After today, I think I know a thing or two about loss,” she said. “Those lycans down in the sewers were my friends. Cassia and Dalton. Emerson, Lorenzo and Ash. Paul, Cole. Amelia. I feel your pain, Julian.”

  Florence stepped into Julian and wrapped him in a tight embrace. She felt warm and smelled like juniper. Must be her perfume. The elevator dinged and the pair headed out to an observation deck. This was where VIPs came to smoke and drink during stadium events. Currently it was deserted.

  “Man, it’s cold,” Florence said, hugging herself for warmth.

  “Then we’d better fly,” Julian said lightly, shifting into his s
pirit creature with only a slight wince. Within seconds his wings were extended to either side, bright and pure against the winter dark.

  “You lose points for the bad pun,” Florence said. “But this sure beats a taxi.”

  Julian crouched low and grinned as Florence climbed onto his back.

  “Ready?

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  Florence gasped as Julian took a running jump off the top of the stadium. He banked against a frigid wall of air and swooped low over the throng of departing fans on the lower boardwalk.

  Florence whooped with delight as they passed as close as they dared to the crowd. At the end of the boardwalk they spiraled into a steep climb. Florence remained so quiet that Julian began to wonder whether she had passed out. When he reached the top of his climb and leveled out over the city he looked over his shoulder. Florence was flushed with adrenalin, her eyes alive with joy.

  “Can we do that again?” she asked. Julian almost laughed - she sounded like a child in a candy store. It was so endearing that Julian could’ve given her a bear hug right there.

  “Why not?” Julian said, swooping at high speed into Columbus Avenue and passing in between all the colored lanterns. The whir of color and noise was intoxicating.

  “Shit, yeah!” Florence shouted, hammering Julian’s shoulders with delight. “Uh, sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Julian said above the whistling wind. “I actually love it when you do that.”

  “I can’t help it, I’ve never seen the city like this,” Florence said. “This is fucking brilliant.”

  “My uncle once said to me, ‘Never argue with a foul-mouthed woman’, and I think I’ll heed that advice tonight.”

  A glance over his shoulder told Julian that Florence was beaming. He climbed again, this time more gently, and cruised high over the twinkling cityscape.

  “Just think of all the stories unfolding down there,” Julian said.

  “It’s so peaceful from this distance,” Florence replied. “You’d hardly guess what lies under that serene surface.”

  “A world of trouble,” Julian said soberly. “Which is why friends need to stick together.”

  “I agree, Julian,” Florence said meaningfully. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Julian smiled to himself - finally he was making progress. The night had taken on a magical quality, and his careful planning seemed to be bearing fruit. The bonus? He was having the time of his life.

  Once Florence had seen enough of the city, Julian took her directly to his penthouse suite atop the Brandis Engineering building. Tilly had left the balcony doors open and set up a table for two by the windows. Champagne, strawberries and Belgian chocolate.

  Florence slid from Julian’s back with a satisfied sigh and headed straight for the warmth of the penthouse. The aquilan shifted back into human form, removing his torn jacket with a chuckle. He replaced it with a simple white shirt.

  The pair made a serious dent in the champagne, a sophisticated Boerl & Kroff Brut. The conversation was light for several minutes, covering everything from sport to the various bars around town. Florence seemed to be in a relaxed and playful mood.

  “Here’s to new friends,” Julian said with a raised glass. “One of the most exciting adventures a person can undertake.”

  “Agreed,” Florence said, clinking the glass. “You sure know how to show a gal a good time.”

  Julian set down his glass, blushing. “I’m only as good as my company,” he said.

  “Time for some music,” Florence said, filling the pregnant silence. “What you got, Jules?”

  Jules? Not even his friends called him that. He kind of liked it. He frowned, however, as Florence set her champagne on top of his vintage record player to flick through his collection. That could only end in derision.

  “There’s a heap of Billy Joel in here,” Florence commented.

  “Probably the voice of New York,” Julian said defensively.

  “Yeah well, I prefer a little hip-hop, or something like this.”

  Florence held a Beastie Boys record aloft. “Now there’s the true voice of New York.”

  “That was a gift,” Julian said. “I’ve never listened to it.”

  “I pity you,” Florence teased, priming the record and letting it rip at high volume. She began dancing like she would at a gig, beckoning Julian into the wide open space of the penthouse.

  “I only know ballroom dancing,” Julian said in warning, moving stiffly over to Florence.

  Much to Julian’s embarrassment, Florence made fun of his robotic arms and jerky movement. But it was all in good fun. At length she stepped in close and draped her arms around his neck. Her luminous eyes were slightly dulled by the champagne. Julian realized that he too felt a little tipsy.

  “Amazing how things roll, isn’t it?” Florence said wistfully. “A wolf and an eagle, dancing to the Beastie Boys. Welcome to the 21st century.”

  Julian couldn’t help but laugh. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

  “You know what’s even more ridiculous?” Florence asked suggestively.

  “Couldn’t possibly imagine,” Julian said, his breath catching in his throat. His lips were unbearably close to the lycan’s.

  “It’s ridiculous that I should be attracted to a preppy blond CEO from the upper east side,” Florence purred.

  Julian’s heart exploded. He didn’t know how this lycan had done it, but all of a sudden he had a strong emotional stake in the life of Florence Underwood. In one sentence she had dissolved the world of spirit beasts that seemed to dominate their lives and reminded him of their shared humanity. No matter what happened, they would always share that.

  “Kiss me,” Florence said with obvious hunger. Julian did, his lips colliding against hers vigorously. They stood close for what seemed a blissful eternity, their tongues rolling against each other, their hands grasping, kneading, caressing. Florence drew Julian’s shirt over his head. He returned the favor, unzipping Florence’s jacket and relishing the sight of her pert breasts tumbling free. His breath quickening, he pressed Florence against the wall and ground his body against hers. He fumbled at his trousers as she drew her jeans down to her ankles. Within moments he was enveloped in her heat, pulsing against her furiously. Julian was on the verge of explosion almost immediately, so he tried to rein himself in to avoid embarrassment. He needn’t have worried. Florence howled with pleasure and Julian let himself go. As a chill winter wind rocked the balcony windows Julian and Florence climaxed at the same time, sinking to the floor in mutual exhaustion.

  For a long while all Julian could hear was the wailing wind, the crackle of a record at the end of its play cycle and Florence’s occasional sigh. He doubted he had ever felt as completely satisfied as he did right then. What did it all mean? He hadn’t expected to feel this way. Particularly with a lycan.

  A musical tone disturbed the hazy afterglow. It was Florence’s cell phone. She excused herself and read the text message, pacing up and down with a frown.

  “What’s up?” he asked, getting a peculiar sinking feeling.

  Florence looked at Julian as if unsure how to respond. Then his own pager went off. He rummaged through his discarded clothing until he found it.

  “Who uses those things?” Florence asked incredulously.

  “They’re more secure,” Julian said, scanning his message. It was from Hector and read YASMIN SILVER HAS RETURNED TO NEW YORK. THERE WILL BE A MASQUERADE BALL AT THE HADFIELD PAVILION IN TWO DAYS. WE WILL CONSUMMATE OUR ALLIANCE WITH THE LYCANS THEN.

  Julian gazed at Florence for several moments. At length they both laughed, which dissolved the thick tension.

  “You need a dress,” Julian said dryly.

  “And you, my dear Banes, need one of the several dinner suits from the hangar you call a walk-in wardrobe.”

  “Then you’d better stay,” Julian said with an arched eyebrow. “I can get some great deals in this city.”

  Florence walked over, fully aw
are that Julian was staring at her naked body. She drew Julian to his feet and kissed him passionately.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that at all,” she breathed. “Not even for a second.”

  5 - Yasmin

  New York City, USA

  Yasmin stood before an antique mirror and made final adjustments to her dress. It was a strapless number from Armani’s recent winter cocktail range.

  Finding herself low on funds, Tomas had provided her with the means of both buying the dress and securing the Hadfield Pavilion for the Ball. She was a little sheepish to be accepting so much money from someone who worked for her. It didn’t feel right that a vampire queen should be so destitute. That would need to change. And soon.

  Yasmin studied herself critically. She was still recovering from jet lag but otherwise she looked OK. Her complexion was clear, her eyes glowed and she was wearing what she considered to be her best color - scarlet. The dress was sexy enough to draw the eye, she was sure of that. She felt a twinge of excitement when she imagined Jack Foley approaching her with that wry smile of his. It had been far too long since she last saw him. She didn’t want to even consider the possibility that he’d moved on. Some things just didn’t bear thinking about.

  Satisfied with her look, Yasmin let go a deep sigh. She was standing in one of the many drawing rooms within the Pavilion complex. The art deco building was located opposite Central Park and was exquisitely designed. Tomas had needed to reach deeply into his pockets to secure this place for forty eight hours. That way, all the catering and security staff they’d hired would have time to arrange and prepare themselves.

  Right now a waft of delicious food reached her from the large kitchen in the basement. If everything went to plan, the Ball would be an auspicious occasion for all concerned - a meeting of great minds at the beginning of this new Flux Age.