nevermore

by Nell Stark

  The plan was simple: we would leave Telassar in small, staggered groups through the city’s labyrinthine network of underground waterways and drainage tunnels. The outer rings of the city had been built on wetlands resulting from the runoff of water from the surrounding mountain peaks. The drainage system formed the foundation of the expansion and continued to provide rudimentary plumbing and sewage facilities. It was unlikely that Brenner knew of the existence of these tunnels, and even if he did, the sheer complexity of the system and the number of outlets made guarding every exit point virtually impossible.

  Constantine made a sharp turn at the next clearing, leaping over a fallen tree. I adjusted automatically and fell into stride behind him. My panther, oblivious to the potential danger all around us, luxuriated in the freedom of the run after spending the last several days stymied by Brenner’s siege. Escaping through the tunnels had been especially bad. I had never been claustrophobic before, but hours of crawling through the choking stench of sewage and detritus in pitch darkness had nearly pushed my anxiety to the breaking point. Every inch had been a bargain with my sanity and a struggle with the panther. I had cried actual tears of relief when we finally tumbled, exhausted, into the forest a quarter mile south of the city’s walls. My panther had come quickly, then, the tremors of my turn upon me before the final syllable of “Uje” passed my lips. Weary of my own racing thoughts, I had willingly surrendered the last threads of control to my animal half. She would follow Constantine, the established alpha, and her feline instincts were far better than my human ones to keep us alive. While I envied Constantine his connection with his beast, and sought to achieve my own someday, for now I took advantage of the respite from full control to rest my human psyche.

  It was almost dawn before we stopped. Constantine had led us to a hiking way station, vacant and deserted in the off-hours. We tracked and killed a gazelle to turn back into human form and then broke a window to get into the station. Once inside, we were able to scavenge clothes from the staff closet and lost and found. In another time and place, without Brenner and his army in hot pursuit, the sight of Constantine in a Hard Rock T-shirt and baggy cargo shorts would have made a hilarious snapshot to share with Val. My heart clenched at the mental image of Val laughing out loud, an increasingly rare occurrence since our induction into the world of vampires and Weres. The urge to get home was overwhelming, and I forced myself to concentrate on my immediate surroundings to ground myself against the wave of nostalgia that threatened to paralyze me.

  The way station was small and sparse. It served as little more than a rest stop for tourists. There was no phone or computer set-up, just a vintage-looking shortwave radio that Constantine examined extensively before declaring it unusable for our purposes. Over the entrance, a battered clock with a cracked dial matched the window we had just broken into. It said the time was just past four in the morning. A sign on the door indicated that the station would open at nine, so we had a few hours to spare. I perused the racks of pamphlets and maps and learned that we were approximately eight kilometers from Aguerda, our rendezvous point with Katya and Delacourte. I turned to Constantine to ask him when he wanted to head out and I was surprised to find him lying, with his eyes closed, on a bench against the far wall.

  “We made good time and took the most direct route. It will be a while before the others catch up to us. You should rest now while you have the chance.” Constantine’s eyes remained closed as he answered my unspoken query.

  I claimed the remaining bench and tried to make myself comfortable. I was physically and mentally exhausted, but my panther, exhilarated by the escape and the recent hunt, fidgeted anxiously just beneath the surface. I was bursting with questions. How were we going to get word out to the Consortium without Brenner knowing? Why did Brenner want me as a hostage? Question after question thwarted my attempts to rest.

  “Why would Brenner declare war on his own kind?” I surprised myself by asking out loud. “If his rage is directed primarily at the vampires, then why bother with retaking Telassar at all? Is it because of his history as one of its founders?”

  “In part, yes.” Constantine remained still, looking up into the rafters of the way station. “I have no doubt that he regards Telassar as his sovereign territory still. But the city’s symbolic value to our community cannot be underestimated. Whoever holds Telassar has an elevated status among the Weremasters of the world. It is our primary seat of power.”

  “Still, I think I’m starting to agree with Delacourte: Weres fighting their own kind only seems natural to a point, and Brenner’s ongoing fight with the Consortium is far, far beyond that point.”

  “Don’t forget,” Constantine said, “that Brenner does not, in fact, consider us to be ‘his kind.’ He has few scruples.”

  “Not his kind? You mean, not wolves?”

  “I mean not pureblood. Brenner is descended—or so he claims—from a line of born werewolves and he is an outspoken advocate of pureblood superiority. He does not consider turned Weres, like us, to be his kind at all. He and his followers call themselves the Ferai.”

  “The Ferai? What language is that from?”

  “It is not from any known language. That is why they use it. They refuse to use the term ‘Were’ because it is derived from the Old English word for ‘man.’ They consider themselves neither man nor animal but an evolutionary step above both.” Constantine’s voice bore no trace of vehemence, only exasperation, and I was glad he did not share Balthasar Brenner’s bigoted contempt.

  “So he’s done this before? Attacked other Weres, I mean.”

  “Before the Consortium came into power, skirmishes broke out constantly between purebloods and turned shifters. Mostly they were territorial or interspecies disputes. Telassar has always been a haven for turned Weres to nurture their animal sides. As such, it has been attacked many times over the centuries. But most of the meaningless turf battles ended when the Consortium was formed.”

  I flashed back to an image of Helen glaring at me from across her wooden desk while explaining the “necessary evil” that was the Red Circuit. Violence was inevitable for our kind, she reasoned; better that she allowed it in a controlled setting than let it run rampant in the open. It didn’t surprise me that Helen and her Consortium would find an effective method to neutralize millennia of Were in-fighting. “But what’s changed? Why is Brenner attacking now?”

  Constantine shifted restlessly on his bench. “I am not sure. He has been opposed to the Consortium from the very beginning. If there is one thing that Balthasar hates more than turned Weres, it is vampires. He chafes at the alliance because he believes that Weres have been subordinated to vampires in the agreement.”

  “But if he has contempt for turned Weres, why should he care who we consort with?” I heard the petulance in my own voice and hated myself for letting Brenner get under my skin. What Constantine had said about subordination pricked all my defensive instincts when it came to protecting and justifying my relationship with Valentine. “It seems like he’s just a self-important egomaniac using his dubious celebrity to stir up trouble.”

  “I do not pretend to know Balthasar Brenner’s motivations. But if there is one thing that you can count on, it is that his hatred runs deep. He has vowed, boldly and openly, to take the Consortium down. Perhaps he has lost his last shred of reason and decided to finally follow through.”

  “Do you think he can make good on that threat?”

  “I do not know. Before last week, I would have said no. But he has managed to take Telassar with no intervention from the Consortium. It is imperative that we get through to Helen because she will need our help.”

  It did not escape me that despite our predicament, Constantine’s primary concern would be for the Consortium. From our first meeting, I sensed that his loyalty to Helen seemed to run deeper than could be explained by politics or business. There was a story lurking beneath the surface. Where Helen Lambros was concerned, the reasons behind our acquaintances were o
ften complicated and personal.

  *

  Constantine woke me a few hours before the way station was scheduled to open. I had managed to fall asleep for an hour. My back ached from the hard wooden bench, but resting had been a good idea. I felt more mentally alert. We tidied up, doing our best to cover our tracks, but the broken window was a glaring sign of our intrusion. I made a mental note to send an anonymous donation to the park’s wildlife fund when I got back to New York.

  We followed the trail toward the city, taking care to avoid the major paths. Even at this early hour, several tourists were already winding their way toward the park. Aguerda would be similarly busy. We decided to take a longer route that brought us in under the cover of the freight trucks and vendor caravans hauling in the day’s market goods. From there, we would make our way through the side roads and alleys toward the café Katya had chosen for our rendezvous point.

  Aguerda was a small city that doubled in population during the tourist season with hikers seeking to explore the mountain ranges in the national park. We slowed as we walked through the city to match the relaxed pace set by the locals. I saw a convenience store that had a hand-painted sign in the window advertising their satellite pay phones. I pointed this out excitedly to Constantine and began to cross the street toward the store, but stopped abruptly as Constantine’s hand closed on my shoulder and pulled me back.

  “They are closed.” He gestured toward another sign that I had not seen in my excitement. “And we are running late. We will come back once we have met up with Katya and Delacourte.”

  Every ounce of me wanted to rush to the store and beat down the door until the shopkeeper let us in, but I let Constantine lead me away and down the street. As we rounded the final corner toward our destination, he stopped and lifted his head slightly to both sides, scenting the air. Ahead of us was the café with a bench out front painted in a cheerful orange color. The street was narrow and deserted, unusual for this time of day. Constantine gestured for me to head back toward the main street. I turned around to see three rough-looking men approaching us with handguns visible. I spun back toward the café in time to see two additional men with guns step out of the door.

  Fear and anger cascaded through me, bringing me to the balls of my feet. “It’s a trap.”

  Next to me, Constantine vibrated with energy. His beast was near the surface and I could tell he was debating the benefits of staying or shifting. My own panther surged to life as she sensed the danger all around us. I focused my control on keeping her in check while waiting for Constantine’s lead. The men were converging on our position quickly, and I felt, rather than saw, Constantine dip into a crouch beside me. He was going to make the change. I loosened my hold on the panther and felt her awareness flooding mine. Beneath the reek of cigarette smoke I could scent the particular metallic musk of wolves. I was just about to utter my summoning word when I picked up another scent, earthen and familiar, and looked up to see Katya emerging from the café. I had only a second to register surprise at the fact that the gunmen paid no attention to her, for in the next moment, another familiar figure stepped out into the street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Balthasar Brenner strode out of the café dressed in military fatigues down to the heavy-soled, calf-high boots. His dark hair was gathered loosely at the nape of his neck in a rough braid. When he gestured for his men to fall in beside him, their guns disappeared back into pockets and waistbands. There was no need for firepower now that the master was here. Constantine straightened up from his crouch and let out a low growl. My panther thrashed inside me in agreement.

  Brenner’s minions began to herd us into the café, and Katya fell into step behind the group. She locked the door behind her. Brenner gestured for us to take a seat in a booth. The guns were out again now that we were out of sight of any locals. I slid onto the rough wooden bench beside Constantine, trying not to fidget as Brenner pulled up a chair and sat opposite us. My skin prickled and my muscles clenched involuntarily. The last time I had experienced this kind of proximity with a pureblood Were, I had been sitting across a table at a club with Sebastian. I had been uncomfortable then; his pureblood aura mixed with his clear alpha status had triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response in my panther. It had taken considerable force on my part to hold her in check so as not to give Sebastian the pleasure of provoking my turn. Balthasar’s presence was even more intense. Whereas Sebastian channeled his energies into seduction and charisma, his father exuded overwhelming command and demand for obedience. The fact that the full moon was only two days away made assuaging my beast even more difficult. I ground my teeth harshly as Brenner leaned in, and unable to hold his eye contact, I focused on his powerful hands resting on the table. I was surprised at first to find them soft and delicate, more like the hands of a pianist than those of a warmonger. I reminded myself that he was pureblood; any calluses or scars he had sustained since his adolescence would have been erased with each subsequent transformation. His skin would never bear testament to his life of violence.

  Brenner and Constantine stared each other down from across the table. Constantine spoke first. “Where is Delacourte?”

  “You keep such learned company, Bellande. Dr. Delacourte is far too valuable to waste away in a cell. I have pressed him into a nobler service.”

  “Nobility is an outlier with the company you keep.” Constantine shot a dangerous look at Katya. She had the decency to look ashamed for a moment before slamming down a mask of defiance. “I always thought of you as a survivor, Balthasar. Perhaps you have a death wish, bringing down the wrath of the Consortium on your pathetic brood.”

  “I have no fear of the Consortium.”

  “Then you are as stupid as you are rash.”

  Brenner laughed then, a deep, bellowing rumble that shook the room. “Ah, Constantine, I see you are still hiding behind the skirt of that vampire bitch. But look around you.” He gestured broadly around the room. “You have no allies here and none are coming. I made sure of that.”

  “You overstep, Balthasar. The Consortium will intervene. Telassar will be returned to its rightful master.”

  “You really haven’t learned, have you? Shifters are not the priority of the Consortium. We merely pad their numbers and provide the resources for the vampires to further their own agenda.” Brenner turned and shot me a glare filled with hatred. “And yet those of you in their thrall manage to find new and perverted ways to insult our grand heritage. The Consortium will not come to your rescue because they have more important matters to attend to.”

  Constantine’s confidence wavered, but he regained his composure quickly. “You will bring us all to the brink of war.”

  The windows of the café rattled as a large vehicle pulled up in front. A sharp horn cut through the silence once, then again. Brenner stood, pulling himself majestically to his full height. He gestured to two of his armed guards who dragged us to our feet.

  “We have been at war for centuries. I will bring us victory.”

  *

  Brenner had us transported by cargo van to a location just outside of town. The ride lasted less than twenty minutes but our new surroundings were remote. It seemed to be some kind of compound with several stone huts arranged haphazardly around a clearing in the woods. Brenner and Katya, who had taken a different car, were nowhere to be seen. As the guards escorted us to one of the huts, I managed to catch sight of Delacourte through the doorway of the largest of the buildings. He was wrapping a splint around someone’s arm. He looked up as we passed by but made no indication that he recognized me.

  I had assumed we would be brought directly to Brenner for interrogation or torture, and was surprised when we were shoved into one of the smaller stone huts. The guard slammed the door shut behind us and locked it from the outside. I just barely stopped myself from retching as the acrid scent of urine and wet fur overwhelmed me. There were patches of soiled hay and loose rags scattered over the dirt and rock-strewn floor. Fractured be
ams of sunlight dappled the walls and floor through seams in the slat and thatched roof above. Constantine took three strides to cross the room. He peered through a thin slit in the wall that served as the only window.

  “There are maybe a dozen but no more than twenty men here. Most of them are armed but there are not enough bodies for an invading force. Balthasar must have several of these camps spread throughout the park.” He cocked his head and squinted into the light. “They appear to be…packing.”

  “Packing? But where would they go? The full moon is less than forty-eight hours away. They wouldn’t get very far before having to disband for hunting.”

  “Not just packing,” Constantine said after another minute of observation. “They are disassembling the camp.”

  A glimmer of hope sparked to life within me. “Perhaps the Consortium is on their way, after all.”

  “Perhaps. Whatever he is planning, they seem on pace to leave this location just after the full moon.” But Constantine did not sound convinced, even of his own logic. He stepped away from the window and scanned the rest of the room. “I hope we fit into their plans.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Constantine ran his hand over the walls. “We may be able to break through the roof, but the stone is smooth. Even as panthers we will not be able to climb our way out. And we are close to the mountains, which means there is rock just under the topsoil. We will not be able to dig our way out, either.”