The City Revolts: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Caitlin Chronicles Book 4)

by Daniel Willcocks

  Nell rolled her eyes. “All you care about is happy endings.”

  “You know it.” Drake winked.

  Caitlin looked at them in bewilderment. “You mean, you don’t actually know?”

  “Know what?” the man asked and his smile faded.

  “Geralt is dead.”

  A moment of silence swept the Weres. They looked at each other, unsure what to say. A moment later, they were on the feet.

  They punched the air, they whooped, they hollered, and they hugged and clapped until Nell had the sense to call them back to order. She hushed them with a finger on her lips as she pointed to the windows.

  With smiles glued to their faces, they returned to their seats, and some now sat with arms around one another’s shoulders.

  “Now, finally, that is some good news,” Brett said. “How did he die?”

  Caitlin looked coyly at the floor and raised her hand. “I killed him.”

  They stared in shocked disbelief before Drake punched the air again and was immediately hushed. In seconds, they had gathered around Caitlin to hug, squeeze, shake her hand, and tousle her hair until she felt suffocated. Despite this, her smile was wider than it had been in weeks.

  “You absolute beauty,” one Were said and kissed her head.

  “You’ve done the city a favor, kid,” another said, his voice emotional.

  “Okay, enough, enough.” Caitlin laughed, waved their affections away, and straightened.

  “Tell us everything. Tell us how it happened.”

  As quickly as she could, she related the story from her arrival at the city to her encounter with the two bears, the wolves, and panther. She included her meeting with Cynthia and the disagreement with Triston. The Weres were a great audience and listened in complete awe. They gasped at the right moments and clapped gently at others.

  “I cannot believe Kain has returned,” Nell said. “After the shit he pulled on Geralt, to have the audacity to return—”

  “I couldn’t do it,” Drake said.

  “Me neither.”

  “Nor me.”

  “And now you’re bargaining over the city’s security? Over its future? With Triston’s own mother?”

  “You know Triston?” Caitlin asked.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Brett said. “We might be tunnelheads, but we still try to keep abreast of city politics. Why do you think we stay here and watch the humans in the library? It’s surprising the gossip you can pick up as they pass the building.” He tapped his ears. “Super Were hearing and all that.”

  “I wanted to ask about that. Why are you hiding here in plain view of where everyone lives? Aren’t you afraid people will catch you?”

  “It’s easy, really,” Nell said. “It’s logic taken from a book I once read that seemed to make so little sense that it made sense—the closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm.”

  “And we’re not afraid of the humans, to be honest. What’s the worst they can do? We survived Geralt for years, so a few humans won’t do much more harm, will they?”

  “And now Geralt is dead,” Drake said. His face suddenly creased as a thought struck him. “Wait a minute. Who have they made Alpha?”

  “I bet it’s Bryce.”

  “Oh, of course, it’ll be Bryce.”

  “I don’t know,” Drake said. “If Caitlin, here, was tough enough to take down Geralt, who’s to say that the big old bear wasn’t weakened from their fight and some Were with a lot to prove and everything to gain took advantage of the situation.”

  “It is Bryce. Though he’s not exactly happy with me, given that he watched me cut down his Alpha.”

  The Weres nodded solemnly.

  “Oh, I bet they’re all going crazy down there,” Nell said, and sudden sadness washed over her.

  “Are you okay?” Caitlin asked.

  “Sure. It’s just…if there’s ever one time where it’s amazing to be a Were, it’s after the pack chooses a new Alpha. All the good liquor comes out—you know, the stuff people have spent years denying that they have—and the whole system turns into one big party.”

  Nell looked around her immediate area and retrieved a flask.

  “Ah, well. Close enough,” she said and raised it above the fire. “Here’s to you, Bryce. May you forever prosper and not be as big a douche nugget as that sicko, Geralt, was.”

  As she tipped the flask, Caitlin sat up in alarm.

  “Wait, isn’t that—”

  “Calm down, woman. It’s water.” She shook droplets onto the fire where they hissed and steamed into the air. “See? Do you honestly think that us layabouts have anything even half flammable to waste on fire? You must be mixed up in the head.”

  They sat for some time and chatted about the possibilities of what could be happening down in the sewer and asked for more details on Caitlin’s bout with the Weres and any other information she might have to share.

  She learned much about the Weres, too. Brett shared the fact that whenever a Mad outbreak reached the fences and the humans swarmed out to deal with it, he’d sometimes join in. He argued that there was safety in crowds, especially when there was a common enemy to target. In those moments, he’d often pick up useful nuggets of information that he’d bring back to the others and so enlighten them about the latest goings-on in the library.

  “And the humans don’t recognize you for what you are?”

  Brett shook his head. “You didn’t at first, did you? In the blur of battle, we look like nothing more than humans ourselves.”

  Eventually, when they reached the inevitable subject of next steps, Nell turned to Caitlin with concern in her eyes. “You know you’re putting yourself in a dangerous position, right? If Triston has gone back and told the others about what you’ve done with his mother, there’ll be hell to pay. They might not welcome you back with open arms.”

  “He wouldn’t have told anyone other than his aunt,” Caitlin said. “And even then, that’s questionable.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Because Triston is a proud man. He’ll likely walk in circles in his room and try to work out his next plan of attack before he shares the information with anyone.”

  “If you say so. Whatever happens, you’d better be careful.”

  Caitlin sat back and thought for a moment. “You talk like you won’t join me,” she said with a coy grin.

  The Weres looked awkwardly at each other.

  Drake glanced at an imaginary watch. “Who took three hours before she asked us to join her?”

  Jimmy chuckled and raised his hand.

  “Look, Caitlin,” Nell said. “You’re a good kid, and your purpose is noble. But we’ve been in this game long enough to have seen the back and forth and, believe us, nothing will change. For the first time in years, we’re happy. It might not be the most glorious existence, but we have our own community in the middle of it all. Do you really think we’ll sacrifice all that to be your bodyguards? With the greatest of respect, think again.”

  Caitlin’s smile slipped. “You mean—”

  “Hold on a minute,” one of the quieter Weres chimed in. “Will we really sit here and refuse what could be our only chance at finally getting back to a decent life? Do you honestly believe that the girl who took down Geralt won’t be able to save the city? If that’s what you guys think, I’m off to find a new group to hang with because your minds are deteriorating, and I’m worried it’s contagious.”

  The man stood, shrugged, and sat beside Caitlin. “I’m with you, girl.” He grinned, and wrinkles fanned from each corner of his mouth.

  “The dude’s got a point,” Brett added. He rose and moved to sit on the other side of her.

  Another Were rose silently, then another, and they crowded together and huddled near Caitlin by the fire. Nell said, “Oh, very well then. I can see where this is going. Miss…”

  “Harrison.”

  “Miss Harrison, you’ve got yourself some muscle.”

 
Caitlin beamed.

  “But use it wisely. I mean it. If you go back into that library, there’s a sixty percent chance you’re already toast.”

  She pictured it in her head and tried to place herself in Triston’s position to guess his next move. Were the Weres right? Would he already have an army of city folk waiting to take her into custody the minute she arrived back?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Broken City, Old Ontario

  Felicia roared into the bundled material of her own cloak. Should she have allowed her screams freedom, they might have roused even the Mad farthest away from the city.

  “Mistress, I—”

  “Say no more,” Felicia snapped and batted a hand across Miriam’s cheek. A red imprint appeared as the woman gasped and fought tears. “Are you telling me that the bitch is using my sister for negotiation? Our plan and everything we’re doing will be ruined! How could this happen?”

  Miriam told Felicia what she knew—how Triston had arrived with something on his mind and how, after much convincing, he had told her about his conversation with Caitlin. They had discussed the news at length, worked out potential avenues to follow with this information, and weighed up options to either track Caitlin or proceed with the negotiations.

  “And where did you leave the conversation?” the vampire growled. “I hope you haven’t made a decision without my consent. You know how delicate our situation is.”

  Miriam straightened and for the first time, looked like she had a morsel of courage within her. Felicia still couldn’t believe her luck. How had she found someone so identical to her in appearance that even her own nephew had no idea of the difference? She made the perfect pet to substitute in her position during the daytime hours or whenever the other vamp was about and might sniff the scent of competition.

  Like the other vamp who, it seemed, had taken flight and also taken her stink along with her.

  “Of course not. I managed to convince Triston to keep his mouth shut and to sleep on it and see how we felt in the morning.”

  “And you think he listened?”

  “I don’t know. He’s your nephew,” Miriam said under her breath.

  Felicia’s eyes blazed as she rushed across the room and gave Miriam another whack. This time, the blow sent her reeling. The vampire stopped and panted heavily, still taken aback by the powers she had only recently acquired—powers she’d somehow managed to keep a secret even from her own sister.

  Felicia turned her attention back to the vista of the city. The town was painted in the silvery glow of moonlight. It was beautiful, but her mind raced now.

  What if Triston did tell everyone? Would that ignite the rampage that the city so needed to tear itself apart? What if he didn’t? Then, they’d be stuck playing chess for another undefined amount of time.

  Felicia struggled with her growing impatience. She knew she wanted the feud to end in a blaze of battle and glory, but how would she navigate this so she could emerge as the victor? Her single desire was to ensure her rule over the Weres and the humans when the dust had settled and those who remained begged for mercy.

  Her double groaned and sat. She rubbed dust from her hair and patted her bleeding lip.

  “What do I do?” Felicia asked the room.

  Miriam hesitated and looked uncertainly at her mistress.

  “Whatever you choose, the outcome will be in your favor,” she said and rose unsteadily to her feet.

  Felicia glanced at her. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

  “Because you have enough talent, wisdom, and strength to make this city whatever you want it to be,” Miriam said and advanced slowly. “You’re the queen this city deserves, mistress. I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll be to your advantage.”

  The vampire shut her eyes and let the silky words wash over her like kisses. When she opened them again, Miriam had her sleeve pulled back and her bare forearm before her mistress’ nose.

  “You always know how to worm your way back into my affections,” Felicia said and threw her head back until two fangs appeared. She punctured the woman’s arm and began to drink.

  Miriam’s eyes rolled back at the mixed sensation of pleasure and pain like agony and orgasm. All too soon, though, it was over, and the vampire dripped her own blood onto the puncture wounds to make them heal.

  Felicia felt the power ooze through her. Her strength ignited at the barest taste of human blood.

  “Follow me. I have something to show you,” she said swiftly and disappeared from the room. A second later, she hurried back, grabbed the startled woman, threw her over her back, and dashed down the stairs.

  The Outskirts, The Broken City, Old Ontario

  Miriam could see the city blur by in a blink of cold tears. The speed the vampire moved at was unbelievable. Before too long, they had passed the borders of the forest and were in open farmland.

  Felicia hopped over fences, tore through overgrown crop fields, and eventually, stopped at an old barn.

  The building crested the top of a hill which looked down at the city. A few lights could be seen in the library in the distance, but otherwise, all was still.

  “Mistress, why have you brought me here?” Miriam asked as she tried to regain her balance and follow Felicia who walked quickly in the direction of a small side door of the barn.

  Without a word, the vampire scaled a ladder nailed into the side of the building. The other woman followed cautiously, concerned that any wrong move might put her mistress into a grump that would bruise and batter another part of her body.

  “Come,” Felicia said firmly.

  She obeyed, even though the ladder wobbled and creaked as she climbed higher. Occasionally, she thought she heard the sounds of animals but couldn’t tell if that was her imagination until she climbed inside the barn’s loft.

  “My—” was all Miriam could manage before the words stuck in her throat.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Felicia perched at the railing and looked down at the herd of Mad packed so tightly from wall to wall that they hardly had room to move. They shuffled and navigated like molasses around marbles, occasionally snapping jaws at one another.

  “Try to stay quiet,” Felicia said smugly. “They’ve certainly got a nose for human flesh.”

  Miriam gulped, and the vampire saw her nervousness.

  “And this isn’t the only cage packed to the brim. There are more dotted about these farmlands.” She clapped excitedly. “My own personal project. The ultimate army of destruction. Isn’t that right, guys?” Felicia shouted with sadistic glee, and all heads turned upward at once and red eyes locked on to them.

  Miriam gasped and retreated backward. She forced herself into a small bundle near the wall and blocked the Mad from view although she could still hear them. Their collective voices rose steadily as their urgency to reach their prey grew.

  “What’s the matter?” Felicia cackled. “Not scared of these little cuties, are you?”

  Miriam had no words to respond.

  “You don’t need to be. They’re securely trapped inside. I herded them all like cattle over the last few weeks in case I ever needed them. They’re sweet, y’know? Dumb as cowshit, but still…they follow without question. They go where I want them to, and they seem genuinely happy to see me. They’re everything I’d want from a pet.”

  “You can’t…you…just can’t…”

  “Can’t what, Miriam? Can’t herd Mad like cattle? Can’t use them for my own devices? Why ever not? It’s not like they’re people anymore, is it? And why shouldn’t I have a little fun?”

  Felicia paused and looked at the city from the door. Miriam hated the look in her eye but knew she was helpless to stop her mistress.

  “It would be so easy,” the vampire mused darkly. “Open the gate, set their compass to the city, and watch them flock. Two hundred Mad per barn stampeding where I send them. They’d lose the battle, sure, but if timed right, they could take down ha
lf the scum in there and allow me the chance to save the day.”

  She sighed, then smiled. “I’d be a hero. I’d be celebrated. What a way to display my newfound love of vampirism than to save those whom I love the most? It’s the perfect plan.”

  The Mad snapped and shouted angrily. Miriam crawled to the edge and glanced down to watch with horror as they clawed weakly at the wooden buttresses that held the barn together. Driven by mindless hunger, their only thought was to climb up to where their dinners sat conversing in the loft.

  “Just think. Soon, it’ll all be mine,” Felicia continued.

  “How soon?” Miriam asked breathlessly.

  The vampire turned, and her smile stretched across her face. “Just as soon as I speak to this new Alpha and bring this pot to a boil.”

  Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  To Mary-Anne’s annoyance, the number of Mad showed no sign of decreasing.

  “Where are they all coming from?” Dylan asked as he drove his sword through the head of yet another one.

  “Why don’t you stop and ask them?” the vampire snapped and spun on her one good leg and hopped about clumsily as she tried to protect herself. Every step brought pain, and although she could feel her leg repairing itself, she wasn’t healing fast enough.

  “Sure,” her companion said as he grabbed the flat of his sword with both hands and shoved a Mad back against the trunk of a tree. The sword trapped the creature at its neck and it snapped fruitlessly at its target. “Where. Are. You. All. Coming. From?” Dylan shouted.

  “Oh, sure. Shout even louder. That won’t attract more.” Mary-Anne cursed when she fell on her ass again. “Cover me, bitches,” she called to the archers. She cheered as four arrows penetrated a petite female Mad’s stomach and chest.

  “Good work. It’s nice to know you can use them for something other than crippling your own team.”

  “He won’t give me a straight answer,” Dylan continued, unaware of Mary-Anne’s struggle. “Very well, if that’s how you want to play this.” And with that, he drew a knife and slashed it across the Mad’s neck. It slumped against the tree and was still.