Herr X raised an eyebrow. “Your guess is accurate, Mr Foley. Rest assured that I’ll find her. And then she will die too.”
Jack gave a low grunt, his fury threatening to spill over. Herr X’s flinty eyes flicked up at the burly henchman by the door. Jack might be able to take him down, but the old German probably had a gun somewhere within reach. He would be stupid not to.
“So what happens now?” he spat. “You lead an all-conquering empire of ghouls?”
Herr X smiled. “Your mocking tone aside, that is exactly what I hope will happen. The dark tissue you lycans so helpfully provided has been dispersed to so many locations no one could ever hope to track it all down. My empire is guaranteed to thrive when all other creatures have died out.”
Jack could barely breathe. The fall of the lycans was incredibly sad, but the theft of dark tissue was catastrophic. Humanity was in for a torrid time if these dark creatures, led by the Berlin Club, held so much power.
“I don’t think the aquilans are trustworthy,” Jack offered, more out of spite than anything else.
Herr X laughed out loud, a genuine belly laugh. The sound chilled Jack to the bone.
“That is precisely why we took all the dark tissue,” he said in between bouts of rasping laughter.
Jack felt a small degree of satisfaction that those responsible for the bloody masquerade ball had been so comprehensively swindled by the Berlin Club. Hector and the other aquilan leaders must be furious. What would they do now? Hopefully wage war against the ghouls. Jack doubted they would be successful, especially here in Europe, where the ghouls would no doubt be setting up their empire under the ground.
The door opened and Vlado stepped in with two thin, willowy figures. Jack recognized the dishevelled young woman as Mischa, the diviner from Berlin. Florence and Yasmin had let her go, but it had always been obvious she would be re-captured by the Berlin Club.
Mischa had been the one to divine Yasmin, drawing forth the vampire queen. She had also been forced to divine hundreds of ghouls for Herr X. She seemed like a troubled, off-kilter individual.
Jack eyed the diviner with distaste and was rewarded with a similar gaze.
“I believe you’ve met Mischa,” Herr X said warmly. “Without her, I wouldn’t have an army at all.”
Jack turned his gaze to the young man. He was fey, almost effeminate, and had a chronically shy bearing. He had locked arms with Mischa and looked at Jack fearfully. His prominent cheekbones and blond hair suggested a central European origin.
“Boris Radovich,” Herr X purred. “He is the reason I bothered to keep you alive and transfer you here to Prague.”
Jack considered the frightened young man. Like Mischa, he was clearly being held against his will. Then it hit him.
“You’re a dampener, aren’t you?” he asked Boris. The young man nodded, unable to met his gaze.
Florence had once mentioned dampeners in passing. It was believed that dampeners, like diviners, were a special kind of spirit beast. Where diviners could trigger the emergence of a spirit beast in another person, dampeners could prevent all people within a certain radius from shifting at all. It explained why Jack hadn’t been able to access his werewolf ever since he arrived in Prague. With a stab of dread he realized his usefulness to Herr X had come to an end. The old German wanted to ensure that Boris’s dampening abilities worked on lycans - perhaps he had a trap in mind for Florence.
“How does it feel, working for a madman?” he asked Boris. “Helping him kill thousands of innocent people?”
Boris flinched at that, practically hiding behind Mischa. It was the diviner that answered.
“Boris does not answer to you,” she said in broken English. “We have our own reasons for being here.”
Jack hesitated. There was something underneath what Mischa was saying. Her eyes were pleading with him. It occurred to Jack that Herr X might be holding others prisoner. Boris’s family, for instance. Possibly right here in this underground facility.
Right at that moment Jack made a snap decision. It was desperate but it was all he had. Herr X had revealed a weakness. He was far too confident in the power he thought he had over his prisoners.
“One more request, Herr X,” he said in a flat tone. He tried to sound as hopeless as possible. His captors had dressed him in simple trousers and a T-shirt. There was nowhere to hide a weapon even if he had found one.
“Name it, Mr Foley,” Herr X said. “I am enjoying your exchange with my other guests.”
“May I have a cigarette?” Jack asked. “I quit some time ago but I think I can afford to have one right now.”
“Of course, of course,” Herr X beamed, gesturing to Vlado. The surly henchman produced a steel case and handed a cigarette to Jack. Herr X placed a glass ashtray on the table. The werewolf took a few deep puffs and leaned back in his chair and sighed deeply.
“Thank you,” he said calmly. “I really needed that.” He spun around and flicked his butt in the face of the other henchman. With his free hand he lifted the ashtray and clubbed Vlado over the temple with it. The faithful henchman was fast, but Jack was faster. Even though he couldn’t germ he was supremely fit. One, two, three blows to the same spot on his skull was enough to send Vlado against the door and down to the ground. The Ukranian didn’t move.
On to the other henchman. Jack squared off against the portly man and feinted left. The man took the bait and Jack struck him flush in the chest with a roundhouse kick. The man doubled over, several ribs broken, and Jack finished the job with a brutal blow to the head. Neither henchman would be a threat anytime soon.
Jack spun on his heels to see something he had fully expected. Herr X had a 9mm Luger trained on his heart.
“I am not an extravagant man, Mr Foley,” he said evenly. “I always play the percentages.”
Jack had known it was going to be a long shot. He had played his physical hand, now it was time to play a mental game.
“He has your family, doesn’t he?” he asked a cowering Boris. It was a desperate play but it was now or never. The dampener’s eyes betrayed the truth.
“Where are they?” Jack demanded. “I’m a lycan. Let me germ and I will free your family. I promise. I’m capable of killing anything standing in my way.”
The funny thing was Jack believed what he was saying, such was his unbridled fury. All he needed was an opportunity to germ.
“It’s not that simple,” Boris said. “I have no control over my ability.”
Jack cursed under his breath. That just about sealed his fate.
Herr X fired once, twice. Two silver bullets lodged themselves in Jack’s chest. He staggered back against the door, tripping over Vlado’s unconscious body.
“Well, that’s that I suppose,” the old German said wryly, his words trembling on the edge of Jack’s awareness. “Silver bullets are damned expensive.”
Darkness threatened to draw Jack under. With every ounce of strength he reached out to Mischa. “Please. Take him away.”
“She’ll do no such thing,” said Herr X in a chilling voice. He was standing over Jack, gun poised at his head.
“You don’t even have the distinction of being the last lycan,” the old man said. “What a pathetic end to a long, long life.”
Jack saw his death in the depths of the Luger’s long, sleek barrel.
The door was flung open and Herr X was thrown off balance. A tall figure barged in and knocked the gun from the German’s hands. “Quick!” Jack shouted as Herr X darted to the corner and lifted a hatch. By the time Jack’s rescuer could get there Herr X had lowered himself through and slammed it shut behind him. The tall man hauled on the hatch with all his strength but couldn’t budge it.
“Hydraulic lock,” he muttered in a Ukrainian accent. There was something familiar about the man. With a start Jack recognized the doktor who had helped the lycans kill the chimera in Berlin.
“Tomas, right,” he croaked, feeling weak and feverish. The clamminess at his chest to
ld him he was losing blood quickly.
“Don’t speak,” Tomas said harshly as Jack threatened to lose consciousness. A second figure glided into the room. Jack gasped - it was Yasmin!
She took one look at him and cried in alarm. She knelt beside him and inspected the wounds.
“Take these two with you,” he said with difficulty. “It’s too late for me.”
“No way, Jack,” she said urgently, looking up at Boris and Mischa.
“Do you have an insulator?” she asked Boris sternly.
The boy nodded meekly.
“Mischa,” Yasmin said. “I need you to take Boris to his quarters as if nothing is wrong. Please - use his insulator. He’s dampening my entire rescue party.”
“Insulator?” Jack asked, his brain receding into a deep, dark mire.
“Lead-lined box,” Mischa explained. “A barrier to Boris’s dampening ability. Herr X forces him in there when he needs his ghouls.”
“Go,” Yasmin said. “Someone will soon notice we’re here.”
Mischa nodded and took Boris from the room.
“Where is here?” Jack asked weakly.
Yasmin looked at Jack with grave concern. “’Here’ is the Olšany Cemetery in downtown Prague,” she said. “Looks like Herr X has set up a bunker underneath the grounds.”
“Makes sense,” Jack said, looking around him blearily. “Can’t have his ghouls going hungry.”
Yasmin smiled grimly and glanced at Tomas. “How long do we give them?”
“We’ll know soon enough,” said the doktor. “Give me a look at the lycan.”
The tall man knelt beside Jack as a black veil threatened to pass over his vision. He felt his T-shirt lifted up.
“I need a pair of tweezers,” Tomas said.
“I’ll see if there is a rest room,” Yasmin said.
“Be careful,” Tomas warned.
Jack was sorry to see Yasmin leave. “What, you love her or something?” he asked, delirious.
Tomas glowered at him. “Nothing you would ever understand, Jack,” he said.
Jack felt like hitting Tomas flush on the jaw. He was sure that Tomas was in love with Yasmin and would do anything for her.
All of a sudden he was filled with a warm rush of adrenalin and felt his body tighten its defences against the silver bullets that were busily killing him.
“Germ, damn you, germ,” he heard Tomas muttering to himself.
Jack was only too happy to let his feral instincts take over. He almost laughed as his body was engorged with a feast of chemicals that made him bigger, stronger, better. Lycan. He growled as he felt Tomas’s hands pressed against his chest, but instinct stopped him from attacking the doktor. Yasmin appeared by his side once again and he felt a sharp pain where the first bullet had entered him.
He screamed like he’d never screamed before.
“Stay still,” Tomas growled. “I’ve almost got it.”
Jack held himself still with great difficulty. He distracted himself by gripping Yasmin’s hand.
A high-pitched howl rose in the distance. Not just one voice, but many.
“Ghouls,” Yasmin said, fear in her voice. “Herr X’s men have shifted.”
“Got it!” Tomas said triumphantly, holding a silver bullet aloft. “Now for the second.”
“Let me go,” Jack said irritably. “You need me against those ghouls.”
“We have our own people,” Yasmin said cryptically. “They should be here soon.”
“Besides,” Tomas said. “These silver bullets have corroded your muscle. If I don’t get the second you’ll be dead within minutes.”
Jack wasn’t about to argue. He squirmed as Tomas wormed his tweezers right into his breast plate. After what seemed like an eternity he plucked the second bullet free.
“You’ll be weak but functional,” the doktor announced. He and Yasmin looked different - pale, red-lipped, yellow-eyed. With a shock Jack saw Yasmin’s fangs for the first time - she looked terrifying.
“I love you,” he found himself blurting.
Yasmin held both his paws. “Another time, my love,” she purred. “We have business to attend to.”
Jack grinned, his mind clear. Germing had been the best thing for him. It had saved his life.
“On the way out we need to rescue, Mischa, the boy and his family,” he said firmly. “Both of those kids are extremely powerful.”
Yasmin nodded. Jack got the distinct impression she was very excited by the prospect.
“First thing’s first,” she said with a wicked, fanged smile. “This vampire needs to hunt.”
10 - Julian
Nassau, Bahamas
Julian couldn’t quite relax on the flight down to the Bahamas. He knew that Hector was capable of tracking his movements. His name was traceable through the airline booking system as well as customs records. Whatever happened in Nassau, he would need to be careful to cover his tracks.
The flame-haired woman trying to sleep in the neighboring seat was also vulnerable. Julian didn’t know how many lycans had survived the ill-fated night of the masquerade ball, but it can’t have been many. Hector and his conspirators were no doubt intent on hunting the surviving lycans down.
For her part, Florence was putting on a very brave face. Julian had tried to ask her how she was coping but she seemed to have put up her defenses. The fresh lead provided by the coordinates found in Mother Aurora’s office had given her something to focus on, a mission. Julian had to admit that their crazy jaunt down to the caribbean had already taken his own mind off his painful wing injury. He pictured himself soaring down the gulf stream at sunset, flying solo to the Bahamas. That was something he could’ve done before his wing was ripped open. He could’ve gone anywhere he wanted without the need for passports and the attention of customs officials. But it was futile to daydream of such things. Florence believed his injury wasn’t necessarily permanent and all he could do was believe her.
The pilot captain reported that he plane was about to begin its descent into New Providence. Julian looked out the window. The islands of the Bahamas spread like a glittering necklace in the late afternoon sun. What would they find down there? Julian doubted it would be enough to revive Florence’s shattered species. Still, it was all they had to go on.
The plane touched down smoothly and Florence stirred.
“Too late to begin our search,” she said, leaning across Julian to look outside. “We’ll need to find a hotel in Nassau.”
Florence’s hair smelled like juniper. Julian leaned in close, savoring the now-familiar scent. Florence caught him and settled back in her chair. Julian smiled apologetically. He was glad to see she didn’t seem to mind.
The tropical air was ripe and languid. Julian felt like he was wading into a warm ocean as he disembarked. It was certainly a refreshing sensation after the crisp winter air of New York.
Once they’d cleared customs, Julian consulted the internet on his cell phone.
“The Grand Marina, I think,” he said.
“Any particular reason?” Florence asked.
“It’s very comfortable,” Julian replied. “Plus, I own around 40%.”
“Of course,” Florence quipped with the hint of a smile.
A cab ferried the tired travelers straight to the Grand Marina on East Bay Street. Julian checked in confidently. The staff seemed to know him and extended every courtesy. The pair were shown to one of the larger suites on the uppermost floor.
“Keeping a low profile, huh?” Florence drawled as she brushed passed him.
“Well, I figure Hector already knows we’re here,” Julian reasoned. “We may as well enjoy ourselves.”
Florence didn’t seem too concerned, spreading herself out on the king-sized bed and sighing loudly.
“One bed?” she asked, her eyes shut.
Julian felt himself reddening and felt stupid. Only Florence made him feel that way.
“I’m sorry, they must’ve misunderstood, I’ll—”
>
“It’s OK,” Florence said. “Just playing with you, Banes.”
Julian breathed a sigh of relief and also felt a twinge of excitement. It was easy to forget that before the horrible night of violence, Julian and Florence had discovered that they were… more than friends. Was it time to revisit that concept? Julian couldn’t be sure.
The pair had dinner at the restaurant in the hotel foyer. Neither felt like exploring too far afield. Both enjoyed a delectable plate of tortellini in truffle oil.
Florence seemed ready to open up as they shared a lemon tart for dessert.
“Do you think it’s safe to call Jack?” she asked. “Like us, maybe he was able to get away.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Julian said honestly. “The aquilans are smart and resourceful. We don’t want to give away our exact location.”
Florence nodded. “It’s hard to believe they’re all gone,” she said. “One minute I’m part of an ancient family, the next I have nothing.”
Julian held Florence’s free hand as she wiped away a tear.
“I’ll be honest with you,” Julian said, looking deep into her eyes. “You’ll carry this pain forever. But every day you’ll feel a little stronger. And then, one morning, a smile will come from nowhere. And you’ll realize you’ve become Florence Underwood again.”
Florence nodded, tears sliding freely down her cheeks.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Julian,” she sniffed. “Thanks for sticking with me.”
“There was never any alternative,” Julian said with a smile. “I’d follow you anywhere, Florence.”
“I think we’d better go,” Florence said suddenly.
Julian took care of the bill and the pair headed back to their suite. He walked out to the balcony and drank in the sights and sounds of downtown Nassau. There were hundreds of revellers on the beach. Many danced and gyrated under the colored lanterns hanging from the palm trees.
“Julian?” Florence called from the bedroom.
The aquilan headed into the cool master bedroom and was greeted with a spellbinding sight. Florence had stripped down to her lingerie and was lounging across the bed.
The Lycan Collapse (The Flux Age Book 2) Page 11