The Lycan Rebirth (The Flux Age Book 3) Page 4

“Istanbul,” came the reply. “One of the old tunnels near the Hagia Sophia.”

  “Anna discovered so much detail?” Yasmin asked, her heart quickening.

  Ralph Odessa leveled his dead eyes at his vampire queen.

  “My sister is growing adept at torture,” he said blankly.

  Yasmin looked at the sisters, who were inscrutable by the firelight. These people could prove to be very useful. When the time came.

  “This information is useful indeed,” Yasmin said. “We know that the Berlin Club plans to infiltrate most of Europe with their ghoul armies. With the Lycan Society decimated, it may fall to us to act as a shield on the European front.”

  “I understand my queen, but have you considered that protecting humans is not really our responsibility? No matter how strong the ghouls become, they would never be so bold as to attack you here-”

  “I will hear no more on the subject,” Yasmin said, her anger rising. “Lycan and vampire will work together whether you see it as your ‘responsibility’ or not, Mr. Odessa.”

  Ralph bowed his head, but it was clear what he thought of Yasmin’s position. She realized that one of her toughest tasks would be the mobilization of her own army. Once they were confirmed as followers they would die for her, yes, but that didn’t mean they would agree with everything she did. And the best armies were always those with a common objective. In any case, that was a problem for another day. Yasmin’s immediate future was unfolding before her. She stood.

  “I have enjoyed meeting you all,” she declared, taking Ralph’s hand. “I hope I can count on you in the future.”

  “Oh, there’s little doubt of that,” Ralph said in resignation. “I am well versed in vampire lore and recognize your authority.”

  Yasmin wasn’t completely convinced, but it was true that Ralph could do nothing to change the vampire power structure. Not while Yasmin was within her home threshold, anyway.

  “Take care all,” Yasmin said quietly, gliding toward the doorway and marveling at how her speech was slowly changing from educated New Yorker to regal leader. She suspected that Ralph would waste no time in being on his way. She watched from the upper rampart as the Odessa siblings boarded their sled in the courtyard and whipped their team of huskies into action.

  Tomas appeared by her side, close but not close enough to be admonished.

  “Istanbul will be dangerous, queen,” he said simply.

  Yasmin turned to her off-sider with a smile.

  “As perceptive as ever,” she observed. “Of course, I will need you by my side.”

  Tomas nodded, as if that was a matter of course.

  Istanbul, Turkey

  Tomas booked flights with his usual efficiency. The pair chartered a helicopter to ferry them all the way to Bucharest. From there they boarded a direct flight to Istanbul Atatürk Airport.

  The plane thankfully landed in the early evening and Yasmin could walk freely through the terminal.

  A long cab ride through the busy streets of the Sirkeci district took the pair into the older quarter surrounding the great Hagia Sophia. They checked into the five star Anatalia Hotel and made themselves comfortable. Yasmin was still uncomfortable with Tomas using his savings and resolved to improve her financial situation whilst she was in Istanbul.

  Once she had settled in it was around one in the morning. Tomas left to run a small reconnaissance mission in their district. Yasmin found he was exceptionally good at establishing solid connections in a short space of time.

  She sipped on a glass of wine and watched seaside traffic slide past as she waited for Tomas to return. An hour later he hustled in and reported his findings.

  “Local crime lords are beginning to get a handle on the Flux, but don’t have diviners yet,” he said. “City is doing pretty well, considering. Better than some western European cities. Turns out Herr X is fairly well known around these parts. Came here to recruit fairly often. Until we stole Mischa off him.”

  Tomas offered a twisted grin. Yasmin liked the look of it - it didn’t happen often enough these days.

  “Yasmin, I think we need to move tonight,” the doktor continued. “Word is Herr X is meeting with an important underworld figure tonight.”

  “Then we’d better go,” Yasmin said with a smile. “And it’s nice to hear my real name for a change.”

  Tomas grimaced. “Sorry, I’m forgetting myself.”

  Yasmin rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Just lead on, dear doktor.”

  Yasmin followed Tomas out into the sultry spring air of Istanbul. The night breeze carried a number of alluring scents including sandalwood, lamb and garbage. An energetic local band was playing somewhere to rapturous applause. The moon rippled silver across the inky Bosphorous. Yasmin felt a pang of pain at Jack’s absence. To spend a few nights with him in this city would simply be magic…

  The attractive seaside boulevard became less attractive as the pair moved closer to the water. The rocks down at the water’s edge were slick with slime and threw a foul smell for the breeze to catch. Tomas found what he was looking for - a large, circular stormwater drain. It wouldn’t budge to normal human encouragement but it was no match for Tomas’s vampire strength.

  Passing through the opening he created, Yasmin wrinkled her nose at the smell of sewerage.

  “You know how to show a girl a good time,” she quipped.

  “I’m sorry, queen, but this way we should get a good look.”

  “Look at what?”

  “The man Herr X has been reporting to all this time,” Tomas said cryptically.

  Her interest piqued, Yasmin gathered her fur coat around her and glided after her charge.

  “You know, I never thought there would be moments like this,” Tomas said almost happily as he picked his way through piles of refuse. “You know, after losing everything.”

  Tomas had chosen a peculiar time to open up.

  “I think I’ll cherish these moments as long as I live,” he continued, avoiding her gaze. “It’s good to know there is still some color in my life, Yasmin.”

  There he went with her name again. This time Yasmin was certain something was up.

  “You know I’ll always be here for you, Tomas,” Yasmin said truthfully. It was a neutral statement about friendship, nothing more.

  Tomas nodded vigorously as he turned down a narrow side passage, saying no more. The air became much cooler here. Yasmin had an escalating feeling of dread as Tomas led them through a dusty chamber supported by ornate pillars.

  A dark, sinewy tunnel beckoned on the far side. Yasmin needed her keen night vision to follow Tomas as he quickened his pace through the murk. A man’s voice could be heard somewhere ahead. Dry, like cigar ash. Herr X.

  Yasmin’s heart hammered in her ears as she crouched alongside Tomas at a stone rail. They were on the curved mezzanine level of some ancient amphitheater. Below them several terraces undulated to a floor at the base of the chamber.

  A lone figure sat on one of the terraces, throwing his voice to no one in particular. It was Herr X, looking thinner and more disheveled than Yasmin remembered.

  “…has been dispersed across Europe, One. With dark tissue my ghouls will be able to regenerate. Just like the lycans have done for so many centuries. This is our time now.”

  Silence for several, pregnant seconds. It was easy to imagine that Herr X had finally gone mad. But something made Yasmin stay on the reddest of red alerts.

  Her instinct proved to be correct. A husky laugh emanated from the shadows at the back of the amphitheater. A deep, corrosive laugh that rattled Yasmin’s nerves. She hadn’t felt this way since she was first divined in Berlin.

  A slight female figure emerged from the dark and the world seemed to become bleaker. She seemed no older than twenty five. Her blond hair was lank and oily. Her face was undistinguished save for a pair of large blue eyes. She wore dark jeans and a jet black t-shirt.

  But it was the way she moved that unnerved Yasmin. It was the shuffle of someon
e who had a severe physical disability. Her left leg seemed smaller than the other and was bent at an odd angle. Her right shoulder was raised far above the other, causing her to stoop awkwardly. Finally, the fingers of one hand were folded inward like a claw.

  Yasmin and Tomas watched in amazement as the girl hobbled to the center of the ancient stage.

  She paused to catch her breath. Her body seemed to flicker in the half light. For a split second she was some kind of lizard creature. Then she was an arachne. A wight. A tiger. A wraith. A towering giant. Then she was the crooked young woman again.

  “Could be a trick,” Yasmin said, struggling to keep the fear from her voice. “A hologram or something.”

  “If it isn’t,” Tomas whispered incredulously, “we all have a big problem.”

  4

  Grand Providence, Bahamas

  It took all night for Florence and her friends to secure St Claire. They needed to remove all evidence of ever having lived there, which was no easy task considering she now had several lycan trainees under her wing.

  She preferred not to travel by day, but by the time everyone was standing under the gently swaying orchard trees at the back of the property the sun had cleared the eastern sky.

  “Where we headed?” Wilson asked moodily. Florence could understand his irritation. These trainees were just easing into a solid rhythm of training and now they were being shunted off into the jungle.

  “Emmaline will lead the way,” Florence said. “I can’t tell you any more.”

  “Some big birds over the shoals this mornin’,” Miss Garvey murmured, eyes locked on the pink sky.

  “Get down!” Julian barked, knowing the cluster of black specks for what it was. “Aquilan hit squad!”

  Florence cursed loudly and began hauling her charges over the low wooden fence at the back of the property. Hillside jungle beckoned to the south.

  “Run!” she shouted, waiting until everyone was off the property before she vaulted over the fence herself.

  Damn. That spy had worked fast. Only yesterday she and Julian had sought healing for his wound. Now they were on the run for their lives.

  Florence raced after Julian through the trees. Further up the hillside Emmaline was taking the lead, darting under the relative cover of a huge Moreton Bay fig tree. Florence caught up with the diviner there, feeling her body shift painfully. She bared her teeth in anger as she scanned the sky. It was hard to see through the jungle canopy but she glimpsed the approaching aquilans. They were definitely making a beeline for the St Claire property. Each of the attackers carried a machine gun. No doubt they contained silver bullets. On a vague level Florence had to appreciate the sheer professionalism of the aquila. A single call from their healer Alita and there was a death squad armed with specially-designed machine guns on their trail. It was alarming to consider how organized the eagles had become. With this kind of excellence she had no doubt they were capable of controlling flux activity right up and down the Americas.

  “What now?” Florence asked Emmaline urgently. Beyond the pair, Florence’s trainees had germed and were now pacing up and down furiously. How would they handle this live situation? Hopefully some of her training had sunk in, but the reality was they were nowhere near ready. Their only real chance was escape. In theory they would have an advantage against the aquila if the jungle canopy concealed them.

  Florence made eye contact with Emmaline, who nodded and continued up the hillside. Florence and Julian took rear positions, herding the trainees and keeping a close eye on the descending aquilans. Florence saw the death squad wheel gracefully through the air, changing direction to follow them south. She unleashed a string of invective.

  “Damn good eyes,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “One of our strengths,” Julian agreed. The aquilan seemed horrified to be drawn into yet another conflict with his own kind. After what happened at the masquerade ball in New York, Florence had no doubt as to his loyalty. Julian had demonstrated time and again that he was wholly devoted to her. Florence had a sinking feeling his choice might grow to haunt him over the course of his life.

  Risking a searching look over her shoulder, Florence yelled in alarm as several aquilans soared low over the trees behind them, guns poised.

  “Emmaline!” she screamed up the hill.

  The diviner made a hard right, drawing the trainees into a shadowy copse of trees. Florence and Julian followed behind as bullets rang out through the jungle. The dirt at their heels was thrown into the air but they made the cover of the overgrown jungle growth just in time.

  Florence was vaguely aware of hundreds of monkeys chittering excitedly far above her as she clawed her way through the thick green undergrowth. Thinking ahead, Julian had brought a machete and began hacking a path for them to follow. They had all but lost Emmaline’s trail.

  Before long the shrubby growth gave way to lush woodland. The pair could see the blue Caribbean sky through gaps in the canopy. Emmaline and the trainees were sprinting over flatter terrain to the southwest. For the moment there was no sign of aquilan attack from above.

  Florence and Julian rejoined the diviner at a huge, fallen log. They all clambered over together, assisting Emmaline where they could. The diviner was surprisingly fit but of course didn’t have the same physical prowess as the lycans or Julian.

  Emmaline led everyone further southwest, where a thick veil of jungle suggested a reasonable sanctuary.

  Julian hacked his way through the verdant curtain and stumbled forward. Her heart sinking, Florence followed him through and was greeted by warm sunlight. A square of jungle a mile in diameter had been completely flattened.

  “It’s a trap!” Florence exclaimed, hauling Julian into the safety of the jungle. Before she could consider their next move, one of the younger trainees yelped in pain and crashed to the ground. A neat bullet hole had punctured his temple. Numb with shock, Florence felt for a pulse. The trainee was dead.

  “They’re coming from the north!” Julian shouted. Florence saw a line of aquilans walking calmly through the undergrowth toward them. She gauged her chances of making it to them alive. They were slim. The open woodland provided scant cover.

  The only other option was the flattened jungle square. Deep rainforest beckoned on the other side. But for at least a minute they’d be vulnerable to air attack, which was the aquilan speciality.

  There was no other choice. Get mown down right there, or sprint for safety.

  Florence’s blood had gone cold. The aquilans’ planning had been nothing short of elite. They’d guessed correctly that the lycans would head south from the St Claire property and from there could be herded towards the cleared area. A zone that would now be filled with lycan blood.

  “Run!” she shouted above the din of gunfire. “Now!”

  Florence didn’t wait to see if her trainees were obedient - the only way to do this was lead by example. She burst into the open and loped along the uneven ground. The felled trees slowed her progress considerably. The aquilans’ plan couldn’t have been more perfect in every facet.

  Despite the slow going Florence was glad to hear the sound of several werewolves at her heels. She hoped that Julian was somewhere back there too.

  Florence began to sweat as she negotiated log after log. A cry resounded from the skies, an aquilan call of war. The bullets began to fly, peppering the ground all around her. She risked a look over her shoulder and saw seven or eight aquilans swooping in from the south. All of them had machine guns.

  An alarmed grunt told her that one of her comrades had fallen. She turned to see a trainee being peppered with lethal silver bullets as she tried to crawl under a fallen log.

  Her anger rising, Florence forced herself to focus on the task at hand - survival. A very large trunk had been felled some thirty yards from her position. She made a beeline for it and slid into a semi-protected gully underneath the huge trunk. From there she waved and shouted at her friends, cajoling them to join her if they could.<
br />
  Julian appeared through the chaos carrying an injured lycan. He joined Florence in the gully and laid the body down. The trainee died before their eyes, its beautiful lycan eyes losing their lustre like a light being switched off.

  Four trainees, including Wilson, Richie, Miss Garvey and a short, young man known as Mouse all made it to the hollow. Emmaline followed not long after, breathless and terrified.

  There didn’t seem much point waiting for the others - Florence knew they were all dead.

  “Along the hollow,” Florence ordered, passing under the fallen trunk and heading east along the gully. Above them bullets rained on the trunk, shredding the soft wood into pulp. The thunderous sound filled Florence with such anxiety that she was trembling when she reached the gully’s eastern end.

  “We’ll have to run that last stretch,” Florence said, working incredibly hard to mask her fear. “Let’s do it in twos to disrupt their line of fire. Julian and I will go first.”

  No one dared argue and Florence realized she must have looked fearsome. Looking out from the hollow, Florence estimated there was around twenty yards to jungle cover. She burst from the hollow like a panicked rabbit and loped powerfully over the last few logs. Bullets cascaded around her and she was was certain she would get pounded. But then she skidded in the cool darkness of forest cover on the other side, glad to see Julian tumble through the bracken unharmed.

  Wilson and Miss Garvey thundered through the undergrowth uninjured. Emmaline appeared a little to the south, exhausted but safe.

  “Mouse?” Florence demanded. “Richie?” Wilson shook his head. Any attempted rescue would be suicide.

  Florence hung her head, her face a rictus of pain.

  “Those were my lycans,” she said quietly, barely able to process what she was feeling. “I’m responsible for all of this.”

  Julian held her by the shoulders. “I’m sorry, Florence, but you couldn’t be more wrong. Thousands, maybe millions of Flux creatures will die for what they believe is right.”