nightrise

by Nell Stark

  Karma was ready with her smartphone. “Five casualties in a Los Angeles suburb on Friday. Four in Boston on Sunday. And ten in a small town in South Dakota yesterday. All claimed by Weres who profess allegiance to Brenner.”

  “South Dakota?” These seemingly random acts of terrorism had been cropping up for the past two months, but they had been confined to major metropolitan areas until now.

  Karma nodded. “That one was ugly. Six of the ten were humans.”

  Over the summer, Brenner had released a deadly virus into the shifter community of New York. He had promised the vaccine to any Were who brought him the head of a vampire. Valentine had discovered a cure, and the Consortium had synthesized and distributed it widely. But her breakthrough had only been a momentary setback for Brenner, who launched a campaign of terrorism reinforced by aggressive propagandizing. The peace between Weres and vampires had always been fragile, and as more and more shifters bought into Brenner’s rhetoric, the Consortium itself was beginning to fray. Attacks against vampires were at least a weekly occurrence now, and often humans found themselves in the crossfire.

  “Three attacks since last week, in addition to the eight thwarted by my team,” Constantine mused. “They’re escalating.” As the chief of tactical operations of the task force charged with countering Brenner’s plans, Constantine and his operatives across the country worked to gather intelligence on and neutralize shifter attacks. He turned to me. “What news from the Web?”

  I had volunteered to monitor Brenner’s public communications, which freed up Malcolm’s most trusted people at the Consortium to work on the encrypted messages that passed between Brenner and his lieutenants. “He’s continuing to send daily messages across a range of media to his followers. The blog is getting nearly ten thousand hits a day.”

  Constantine’s lip curled. “That fucking blog.”

  I watched beads of sweat form along his hairline and had to mentally wrestle with my panther as she sensed her sire’s distress. Brenner’s blog was a particularly sore spot. Full of vitriol and propaganda against Malcolm, Constantine, and other high-profile Weres who persisted in allying with vampires, the blog purported to be a record of “injustices” that were being perpetrated by vampires against Weres. It continued to motivate shifters around the world to abandon the Consortium’s founding principles and turn on the vampires.

  “We have a new priority,” Malcolm announced, snapping me out of my thoughts. “As you know, my analysts routinely track Brenner’s known associates, especially those who have remained stateside. Over the past few days, we have noticed hundreds of millions of dollars being funneled through corporate shells into the accounts of several of these individuals.”

  Karma looked as alarmed as I felt, but from Constantine’s grim expression, it was evident that Malcolm had already shared this news with him. My stomach soured as I contemplated the possibilities.

  “Do you have any idea what he’s planning?”

  “No, but I can think of all too many options.” Malcolm stood and began to pace. “He could be amassing an army, or building a bomb. Or he may intend to work in more subtle ways.”

  “Balthasar, subtle?” Constantine’s laugh was bitter. “Never. He is going to attack. The only questions are where and when.” He glanced at his watch. “And we are not going to learn the answers by sitting around this table.”

  Karma rose at the clear dismissal. “I’ll have my ear to the ground at Luna, as always,” she said.

  The reminder that she often worked with Sebastian made my panther push for control. Whenever I’d asked what exactly Karma did at Luna, she became evasive. My best guess was that she was under someone’s orders to stay close to Sebastian, but given his deep ambivalence toward his father, I couldn’t figure out why. He had always struck me as a fairly stereotypical young businessman. Flush with financial success, he cultivated his playboy image surrounded by the social elite and the trappings of luxury.

  And now Valentine was part of his coterie.

  I stood quickly as the memory of their kiss seared my mind’s eye. The panther thrashed again at my flare of emotion, and when Constantine rested one hand on my shoulder, I knew he had noticed my struggle. While many shifters had criticized my arrangement with Valentine, Constantine empathized with my decision to become a Were to help a loved one. He’d made a similar choice long ago, for a brother who had been beyond saving. But as much as I wanted to accept his comfort, my pain was still too raw. I wasn’t about to betray any weakness in front of Malcolm.

  I took a deep, steadying breath before turning to Karma. “Share another cab with me?”

  Constantine saw us all out, and I instinctively turned toward the sun as we emerged onto his stoop. The day’s brightness cheered me, despite the chill of the air. Down the street, a construction crew was just beginning its day’s work, and the loud beeps of a reversing truck pierced through the city’s background noise.

  I registered a sharp change in air pressure at the same moment that a tree fell in the distance with a loud crack. But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew I was wrong. Adrenaline galvanized my heart as the scent of blood filled the air and I whirled to find Malcolm lying on the stone steps, bleeding profusely. Shot. Sniped. A red haze descended over my eyes as my panther struggled furiously to claw her way out, and I dropped to a crouch as I fought for control. I’d never be able to help him if I shifted.

  “Inside!” Constantine shouted. Blood slicked my hands as I grasped Malcolm’s shoulders and pulled him back through the doorway. Karma was on my heels, already on the phone to Headquarters. Malcolm’s guard, who had been one step behind him, was covered in blood spatter and cursing.

  Constantine fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Malcolm’s chest, elevating his head so he wouldn’t choke. Bright, viscous blood poured from a hole above his left temple, and I could see the white, jagged edges where the bullet had pierced his skull bone. I darted into the bathroom and yanked a towel off its peg, then crouched at Malcolm’s side to staunch the bleeding as best I could.

  “Why isn’t he shifting?” I heard myself ask, feeling oddly disengaged, as though I was watching the flurry of activity from above.

  “Maybe he can’t.” Constantine’s words were clipped.

  Mind racing, I reached for Malcolm’s wrist to track his vital signs. No one really knew what part of the brain regulated a Were’s ability to transform, but if that part had been injured or destroyed, it might explain why he remained broken and bleeding in human form.

  His pulse stuttered beneath my fingertips, and I looked to Constantine in alarm. “We’re losing him.”

  At that moment, Karma’s cell buzzed. “They’re coming in through the alley,” she reported a moment later, and I left Malcolm’s side to unlock Constantine’s back door. The medical staff personnel rushed by me without acknowledgement and had strapped Malcolm to a folding gurney within seconds.

  “I’m riding with him,” Karma said fiercely, though I knew neither of us would protest. As Malcolm’s strong right hand, it was her prerogative.

  I squeezed her shoulder as she brushed past. “Let me know what I can do.”

  A hush settled over the house after they left, and I found myself staring at the ribbons and pools of blood that had collected on Constantine’s polished hardwood floor. He, too, remained pensive for a long moment before tearing off his bloodied shirt.

  “This is madness. Total war. Balthasar is risking our entire community by bringing his battle to the human streets.” He kicked off his shoes. “I need to speak with Helen immediately.”

  Feeling suddenly lost, I moved to wrap my arms around my body only to realize that they, too, were caked in blood. “How can I help?”

  He was already halfway up the staircase. “There’s nothing you can do right now, Alexa. Go home. Pray.”

  “I’m not really the praying type,” I said, feeling utterly helpless. But if Constantine heard me, he didn’t answer.

  *

>   I showered in his guest bedroom and borrowed an oversized sweatshirt and pants for the trip home. But when I entered my apartment, its stillness and silence felt oppressive. For the hundredth time since exiting the subway, I checked my phone. Still no word.

  Fatigue lurked behind my eyes, but I was far too agitated to give in to it. Finally, I decided to attend my afternoon class. It would kill some time while taking my mind off the nightmare I’d just witnessed. Afterward, I would pay a visit to Malcolm and see if there was anything I could do to ease Karma’s burden.

  As I walked along the south side of Washington Square Park, my phone rang. Eagerly, I looked down at the display…and froze. Olivia Wentworth Lloyd. Olivia was an assistant district attorney, and one of Valentine’s childhood friends. Sort of. She and I had met during an NYU career fair last year, but we’d continued to cross paths when she had been attacked by the same vampire who had turned Valentine. While the Missionary had not succeeded in making Olivia a vampire, he had made her suspicious. The last I’d heard, Olivia had fallen for Abigail Lonnquist, a wereshifter who had contracted the same disease that had nearly killed me. Valentine hadn’t told Abby’s secret, but she had given Olivia a vial containing one dose of the cure for the virus.

  Valentine had believed it wouldn’t be long before Olivia discovered the full truth about Abby. Was that why she was calling me now? I hadn’t heard from or seen her in months.

  “Hi, Olivia,” I said, trying to sound casual.

  “Alexa.” She paused so long I thought we might have gotten disconnected, but when I checked my phone’s display, the call was still live.

  “So…what’s up? It’s been a while.”

  I heard her exhale slowly. “Alexa, I know what you are.”

  Alarm bells clanged wildly in my brain, and my panther woke snarling from her uneasy slumber. “What I am?” I managed to keep my tone light despite the pounding in my chest. “Doomed to be unemployed once I finish school, you mean?”

  “Meet me for a drink on Friday night.”

  “Is that a request or a demand, Counselor?”

  There was another long moment of silence, then, and I used it to get my breathing back under control. My panther thrashed behind the doors of my psyche, desperate to confront the unknown threat.

  “I don’t work at the DA’s office anymore,” Olivia finally said. “White Star, ten o’clock?”

  Now my alarm was compounded by confusion. Olivia had quit her job? I wanted to ask, but it was clear she didn’t want to discuss that right now. The real question was whether her invitation was legitimate. My brain suspected some kind of setup, but in my gut, I knew Olivia wouldn’t knowingly put me in danger—from the law or anyone else.

  “Alexa?”

  “Sorry, yes. That’s fine. See you at ten on Friday.”

  When she hung up, I turned away from Vanderbilt Hall and crossed the street. I needed to calm my panther before sitting in class for hours. Even on a blustery winter’s day, the spaciousness of the park comforted her.

  I sat on a bench and thought about reviewing my notes from yesterday’s lecture, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Brenner was planning some kind of attack on American soil and had just critically injured—perhaps even killed—the Weremaster of New York. Olivia seemed to have discovered the Consortium’s secret. And the love of my life—now a soulless vampire—was somehow involved with Sebastian.

  I turned to face the wind rattling the bare branches of the trees and pretended the chill was responsible for the tears that pricked my eyes.

  Chapter Three

  The rest of the week crawled by. Malcolm remained unresponsive and in critical condition despite several different surgeries and an effort to relieve the pressure on his brain. He was locked in a coma, and neither his human nor leonine consciousness had been able to find its way back. It was rare for a shifter not to heal quickly, and most of the city’s Were population was poised to give up hope already. Karma was understandably rattled, but once it became clear that our sitting by Malcolm’s bedside would do no one any good, she threw herself back into both of her jobs. By the time Friday arrived, I wanted simply to hole up in my apartment and sleep the weekend away. But breaking my non-date with Olivia wasn’t an option; I had to find out what she knew.

  White Star only had four tables, but Olivia had managed to grab one near the back of the narrow, dimly-lit space. I paused at the bar to order a drink, wanting another minute to collect my thoughts and my composure. And to ensure that this wasn’t some kind of sting operation, with her detectives lying in wait to apprehend me and charge me with…what? Turning into a large cat on a monthly basis? The thought might have been amusing under different circumstances.

  When the bartender looked my way, I ordered two fingers of a very fine tequila. White Star was a sipping bar, and if Valentine had been here with me, we would have delighted in the scotches and whiskeys. The delicate absinthe fountain had always enchanted her too, and I could picture her expression of avid concentration as she watched each drop of ice water seduce the cube of sugar into dissolution.

  “Here you are.” The bartender slid my drink in front of me and as we exchanged bills, I pressed the heel of my free hand against the dip between my breasts. No more daydreams. No more memories. My Valentine’s sensual enjoyment of even the smallest of life’s details had been replaced by a ruthless appetite that could never be satiated. Resolute, I gripped my glass and threaded my way around tables and patrons to the far corner, alert to anything out of place or suspicious.

  As I slid onto the chair across from Olivia, I hoped I wasn’t betraying my trepidation. But I could feel my smile falter when she regarded me in silence, her expression accusatory. As though I were a suspect at the interrogation table and not her friend.

  “Hi,” I said, determined not to let her rile me up. “How are you? It’s been too long.”

  “How do I look?”

  At the bitterness of her words, I leaned in to survey her appearance. Her eyes were bloodshot and the skin beneath darkly smudged. She looked haunted.

  “As though you haven’t slept in a week.”

  She cupped one hand around her highball glass, as though she were protecting it from me. “I need you to tell me something. To be completely honest.” When I nodded, she took a deep breath. “I need to know what you…what you turn into.”

  I thought about laughing. I thought about lying. I thought about playing dumb. But somehow, Olivia had discovered the secret, and no amount of dissembling on my part would throw her off the scent now. Beneath the tablecloth, I surreptitiously eased my cell phone out of my pocket, intending to send Karma a heads up by text in case the rest of our evening went south and I ended up needing some kind of intervention.

  “A panther.”

  Olivia’s expression never changed, but her fingers were trembling when she raised her glass to her lips. I balled my free hand into a fist as my panther, sensing Olivia’s threat to us both, made a bid for control. I projected what I hoped was a soothing image: mid-afternoon on the savannah, basking atop a sun-baked rock as the warm breeze riffled our fur. Silently, I urged her to relax into the daydream—to trust that I wouldn’t allow Olivia to hurt us.

  “A panther.” Olivia’s voice was hoarse, the words tinged with incredulity.

  “How did you know to ask that question?”

  She broke eye contact. “You know I was dating Abby, right?”

  Valentine had told me that particular bit of gossip during the turmoil following Brenner’s attempted destruction of the Consortium. “You were dating her?”

  “She broke it off a few weeks ago.” Her mouth twisted into a grimace of pain. “Said it wasn’t me, it was her. Of course. But she seemed upset, and I wondered if someone was controlling her—telling her to stay away from me. So I followed her.”

  Comprehension dawned. “You saw her shift.”

  “I tailed her car like some kind of lunatic. For hours.” Olivia’s laugh sounded strangle
d. “She drove into the Poconos and parked at one of those scenic outlooks.”

  “And then she walked into the woods.” On impulse, I rested my palm on top of Olivia’s hand. Her story was taking me back to my own first sighting of a Were, when Helen’s bodyguard Darren had transformed into a large gray wolf before my eyes. That moment had called into question everything I thought I knew. For weeks, the disbelief had felt like a mental splinter, working its way ever deeper into my mind until my entire worldview had been transformed.

  “Yes. She walked into the woods.” Olivia’s eyes were glassy as she relived the memory. “I was trying to go unnoticed, and by the time I realized something was wrong, I was too far away to help. Those seizures...even from a distance, they looked so painful. Like she was possessed.”

  “In a way, she is.”

  “Possessed. By a mountain lion. Or some kind of jaguar. I wasn’t close enough to tell.” Olivia dug her fingernails into the table. “Do you know, I obsessed about the exact species for days afterward. Even went to the store and bought a book on the big cats. But I still don’t know what she is.”

  Moved by the distress in her voice, I smoothed my hand rhythmically over her knuckles. “There was nothing you could have done to help her. And if you’d been any closer, she would have torn you to pieces. After the change, the hunger is unbearable.”

  “Is it always like that? Always so violent?”

  “For most of us, yes.” I took another sip from my drink in an effort to quiet my nerves at talking about these kinds of details with Olivia, who was not only a human, but a trained and ruthless prosecutor. But her angst was real, and she deserved answers. Who would give them to her, if not me?

  “For you?”

  “In the beginning. But I’ve inherited a greater degree of control over my beast than most, and by now, the pain is minimal.”

  “Inherited? You were born this way?”