by Regine Abel
Stephen rested his ankle over his knee, his hands clasped in front of him. “Didn’t you find it strange that he has finally agreed to see you when his sigil has become active?”
“He needed the help of a specialized architectural engineer, which I happen to be,” I said defensively. “It’s not really coincidence either since I deliberately went into this field in the hope something like this would happen.”
“They called your firm specifically,” Daniel interjected, “knowing you were the main expert in old churches. It is no accident you ended up there. This was planned.”
Because I’m his soulmate. He wanted me there to give us an ultimate chance. Right?
I hated that they’d successfully planted the seed of doubt.
“All right, I’ll bite,” I said, trying to rein in my anger and hurt. “Why go through this elaborate scheme to get me? What do I have that he wants? What’s his goal?”
“He wants a blindly devoted minion who will follow him to the end of the world while he’s preparing an invasion.”
I burst out laughing, realizing we’d just entered tin foil hat territory. “You’re crazy,” I blurted out.
“He’s not,” Daniel said, his pitch black eyes boring into me. A small scar I hadn’t noticed on the right side of his chin stood out from his pale skin when he clenched his teeth. “The sigils are homing devices. Every single sigil whose location we knew of has gone active. The creatures that owned them are bending over backwards to recover them. We’ve gotten one of them to confess that the device served to call more of their kind here.”
“To rescue them!” I exclaimed, bewildered. “It just sent out a distress signal! The Khargals want to go home. Wouldn’t you in their shoes? They’ve been stranded here for centuries, forced to live in hiding. Of course they will want to go home, reunite with their loved ones, and go back to a normal life. Why do we always assume the worst of people?”
Stephen shook his head again, his disappointment plain to see. “They are not people. And this is why we never approached you. You’re too soft. Those romantic ideals of yours could bring about the downfall of the human race. He has completely brainwashed you. We’ve extracted sufficient information from them to know they are a threat to us and to our future.”
“Oh my God,” I breathed out. “You’ve tortured them.”
Stephen lifted his chin, his unrepentant gaze hardening. “We do what we must to protect mankind.”
“The Inquisition, too, did what it thought was right to get people to confess. We all know that under sufficient pain, people will say anything for it to end, even admit to crimes they didn’t commit.”
“She’s too far gone,” Daniel said to Stephen like I wasn’t sitting right there.
“Indeed,” Stephen said with a sigh. “Such a disappointment. Such great potential wasted.” He turned his dark-brown eyes towards me, all warmth and friendliness gone. “You will tell us everything you know about the sigil, their rendezvous point, and how big a fleet they have coming.”
My back stiffened, and my blood turned to ice. The unforgiving expression in his eyes and the mad glint in Daniel’s gaze as they both stared at me made me fear the worst. Made me fear the Inquisition.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Stephen said. “Either way, we will know everything you do.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach clenching in fear when Daniel retrieved a small syringe from his shirt pocket and placed it on top of the table in front of us.
“What’s that?” I asked, unable to hide the trembling in my voice.
“Something that will help you cooperate,” Stephen said.
“I don’t know anything!” I exclaimed. “He and I just met. You know everything I know, more even. He only told me that he needed the room cleared to recover his sigil and that would help him go back home. I swear, that’s all I know.”
“As you wish,” Stephen said, nodding at Daniel to proceed.
“NO!” I shouted as Daniel rose to his feet, picked up the syringe and approached me. “Stephen, don’t do this! I don’t know anything else.”
“We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” he said with a nonchalant shrug.
I pulled against my restraint in a futile effort to keep far away from my tormentor. The cold, hard metal of my shackles chafed the tender skin of my wrists. Daniel pressed his palm on my forearm, near the elbow, to temper my struggles. Seconds later, the pinching sensation of the needle sinking into my flesh was swiftly followed by a strange feeling of euphoria and peace.
My head felt a little heavy, and I couldn’t quite hang on to the reason for my anger and fear. I blinked and looked at the reassuringly familiar face sitting across the table from me. Why was he just staring at me like some kind of strange phenomenon he wanted to study?
“How are you feeling, Brianna?” my friend Stephen asked.
“I’m doing great!” I said with a smile. “Well, mostly,” I amended. “My head feels a little heavy, but good otherwise.”
“Excellent. I’m happy to hear it,” Stephen said, smiling back at me.
I liked it when he smiled. He reminded me of my father back in the days when we were happy, when he still loved me, and called me his little princess.
“I need your help, Brianna. Do you want to help me?” he asked.
“Yes, of course! What can I do for you?”
“I would love for you to tell me anything you can about Alkor Drayvus. Any single detail, however insignificant,” Stephen said with his usual, friendly… fatherly voice.
He’d shown me a picture of his daughter once. She was almost the same age as me and, in many ways, she actually looked like me. I remembered feeling some fierce, irrational jealousy.
“As you know, it’s important for me to understand the psychology of a client if I am to do construction work for him.”
“I’m not sure this construction is going to happen,” I said with a sympathetic look.
“Why is that?” Stephen asked.
“Because Alkor is leaving in the next couple of weeks. He’s going far away, and he’s never coming back. But he wants me to go with him,” I said with a grin. My mind wandered, reminiscing about the sweet way in which he cuddled with me and held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. “He says I’m the only woman to have ever awoken his mating instincts, even though he’s been alive over 1300 years! He sure knows how to make a girl feel special.”
I giggled thinking about how he said he wanted to bite me and exchange fluids with me.
Stephen and Daniel exchanged a look I didn’t understand, but that too made me giggle. They then proceeded to ask me a million questions about Alkor and me. I didn’t mind answering them although after a while, I started feeling a little uneasy about it. For some reason, I suspected Alkor wouldn’t like me revealing some of the things that frankly felt rather private. And that damn pressure in my head that was borderline turning into a migraine wouldn’t leave me alone.
At long last, they seemed satisfied and brought me to a room where I could nap to get rid of that migraine. Even as they escorted me there, it struck me as odd that I’d been shackled to the chair. But my brain refused to compute anymore. There would be time to reflect on all that later. For now, I just needed to sleep. The minute my head touched the pillow, the world ceased to exist and blessed oblivion claimed me.
9
Alkor
I awoke beneath the rubble, livid, angry with myself for ‘getting my butt handed to me’ like the humans like to say, and by a weakling no less. But more importantly, I was furious to have put Brianna in jeopardy with my negligence. The rubble had done little damage to me. It took a lot to damage a Khargal. We weren’t bulletproof, but unless they used armor piercing rounds—and even then—we could sustain a lot of hits before getting into real trouble when sheltered by our stone skin.
So, how in Lar’s name had those damn darts not shattered against me on impact?
I knew that the Rose Synd
icate had held a few Khargals captive, some for decades. Many of us, at various periods, had tried to rescue them only to find they’d been moved to a new, unknown location. Despite that and whatever experiments they no doubt performed on my brothers, the Rose Syndicate had never developed any technology that represented a serious threat against us, until now. What else had they created that we might be vulnerable to?
Grunting with effort, I pushed on the boulders pinning me to the ground. I had no idea how long I’d been out under the effects of that drug. As with any time I’d found myself in a position of vulnerability, I’d instinctively gone into duramna. The stone sleep had allowed me to regenerate a little and, in theory, to eliminate the drug from my system faster. Once I managed to shuffle the rocks sufficiently to have a bit of wiggle room, I brought a few small stones to my lips and ate them for an instant burst of energy and extra fuel.
Although still trapped under piles of rocks, I finally had enough room to retrieve my phone from my pants pocket. My relief at finding it intact was short lived as it didn’t have any signal. In an excess of rage, I almost smashed it against the rocks imprisoning me, but thankfully, managed to rein in my temper. I needed to keep a cool head if I were to get out of there in one piece and in time to rescue my Brianna.
To my great distress, my phone indicated it was already 19:11. I’d been out for eight hours. Brianna should have been here already for our date. She would have asked Lana about me and, together, they would have figured out my predicament. That she hadn’t come looking for me in the catacombs, after being unable to find me in my private quarters, confirmed my greatest fears.
Lana wouldn’t start worrying about not hearing from me for at least 48 hours, especially now that I was involved with Brianna. And as I’d told the workers not to return until I informed them to do so, no one would show up tomorrow morning. I needed to get out of this on my own, and quickly.
It took a couple of hours to extract myself from the rubble. Looking up at the ceiling, it was clear that the charges had been carefully placed for the trap, to create the largest collapse possible without threatening the integrity of the building. This kind of work couldn’t have gone unnoticed by the construction manager. I therefore had to assume Stephen was in on it and likely a handful of the workers.
Racing up the stairs, I kept a close eye on my phone until the signal came back on. As soon as it did, I made to call Brianna but stopped; the club was in full swing, the loud music drowning out everything. The thumping of the base resonated all the way into my chest. I made a beeline for the elevator and noticed the unusually large number of stunned or baffled stares in my direction. I was used to drawing people’s attention, but something else was happening here.
“Grack!” I muttered after casting a quick glance at my wrist bracer which controlled my perception filter. It pulsated an orange color indicating a malfunction.
Discarding my plan of climbing the stairs to my private quarters—which would have been faster—I threw myself inside the lift to hide from prying eyes. As soon as I entered my chamber, I groaned inwardly at my reflection in the mirror. The holographic disguise flickered in and out of existence, having me alternating between my Khargal form, wings on full display, and my human disguise.
So much for the Prime Directive.
At least, the stroboscope had been running when I crossed the room. Hopefully, most of the patrons would dismiss this as an optical illusion enhanced by the strobe lights.
Sheltered from the noise at last, I called Brianna and waited multiple rings without a response. Finally, someone picked up.
“Tomorrow, at 2300 hours, bring the medallion to the Belvedere,” said the voice of the male who had attacked me in the catacombs. “Don’t be late. If you fail to show up, we’ll find out how well your woman can fly.”
He hung up before I could reply. Of all the gracking vague messages! In Montreal, whenever someone said the Belvedere, it usually referred to one of four fairly busy areas on top of Mount Royal for locals and tourists alike to enjoy breathtaking views of the city. In the evenings, it constituted a common romantic getaway for couples.
Of the four Belvederes, only the Summit Circle one was easily accessible with a parking spot right at the belvedere. With a prisoner in tow, it seemed like the most viable one for them to go. Although it legally closed at 23:00, young party goers often gathered there after hours for beer and to do drugs. But I had no doubt the resourceful Rose Syndicate agents could figure out a way to keep them out to hold our little standoff.
I dismissed the Camilien-Houde Belvedere and the Kondiaronk Belvedere as both were always much too crowded and required quite a bit of walking to reach.
Despite the ten minute walk to reach the Outremont Belvedere, it struck me as the most likely choice. It didn’t appear on any map of the city and no signs led to it. The view wasn’t as stunning and few people would head there at night, having to travel a somewhat dark, woodsy trail.
As much as I hated having to wait nearly 24 hours before the meeting, which I’d spend worrying about Brianna’s welfare, the delay gave me a much needed reprieve. Despite our enhanced strength in comparison to humans, we weren’t herculean. Eating stones mostly provided quick healing and only minute bursts of energy. I needed to go into duramna, to fully regenerate and heal the bruises from getting pummeled by the fallen boulders, before I faced off against the fanatics of the Syndicate.
On the bright side, I had recovered my armor and my shield. Despite my weariness, I tested both to make sure they still functioned. The suit’s embedded camouflage system would allow me to stealth past the Syndicate’s agents. Much stronger than my mobile stealth device, it would hide Brianna more effectively once I recovered her.
However, my shield gave me a bit of a scare. But of course, it needed to be recharged after decades of disuse. The wrist attachment would deploy an energy field that could deflect or absorb most types of projectiles or energy blasts. The thought of those darts piercing my stone skin still had me spooked. Despite still being primitive by Durassian standards, humanity had come a long way technology-wise. Soon, they could prove to be a real threat.
I’d spent the past thousand years keeping a close eye on human technology, learning all that I could not only to be able to set up my own security systems, but also in the hopes maintaining, repairing or recreating some of our old Khargal technology. Too bad it still didn’t allow me to fix my weapon.
My tasks completed, I once more settled on my perch, thoughts of Brianna keeping me company as I surrendered to the peaceful void of deep duramna.
I took a taxi, asking to be dropped off near one of the entrances of the Notre-Dame-des-Neiges cemetery. Ideally, I would have simply flown here, but not knowing what kind of enemy forces awaited me, it felt safer to preserve my energy as much as possible. As I entered the wooded area leading up to the secret lookout, I deactivated my perception filter, which had given me a casual human appearance. After activating the camouflage of the armor I wore, I summoned my wings, and then took flight.
I climbed higher than necessary so that I could glide over the Belvedere to assess the situation without the flapping of my wings giving away my position. As soon as I flew over the lookout, I realized my mistake. The place being vacant only further confirmed it. Although I knew of this area, I’d never visited it before. The lookout had no protective ramp or railings because the promontory didn’t end in a cliff or edge with a sharp drop, but rather with a semi-steep incline. They couldn’t push her off to her death. She’d only roll down the slope over a few meters before stopping.
Damn them all to Macero!
The Summit Circle Belvedere was located on the other side of the mountain. So much for preserving my energy. With an angry growl, I flapped my wings hard as I raced to the only other place that made sense… I hoped. At least, without my stone skin, I could fly for hours over very long distances before it began to take its toll. Thankfully, I had come forty minutes early for a chance at getting the d
rop on them. Even with the ten minute flight to reach the other side of Mount Royal, I arrived thirty minutes in advance at the lookout.
My heart soared at the sight of my mate, only to have that elation replaced by anger. Stephen, holding her firmly by the upper arm, all but dragged her to the railing in front of the parking area. Shackled and visibly frightened, Brianna nodded submissively when he ordered her to stay put. Three of his men took position after securing the perimeter. Two more went to hide in the nearby wooded area, almost in sniper positions. With most of the trees having lost their leaves, they relied on the cover of darkness to avoid detection. That was stupid considering I had perfect night vision.
Signs along the road leading to the lookout indicated it was closed for the night due to a movie shooting. That explained the absence of straggling tourists or late night partiers. This made sense with Montreal having grown quite popular for shooting both blockbuster movies and TV series.
Gliding in a downward spiral, I landed quietly near the two cars of the Rose Syndicate agents. I whipped out my claws and slashed their rear tires. Moving quickly, but silently, I prowled after one of the two snipers, thankful for the absence of snow and for the dry ground so that I didn’t leave any footprints that could give me away.
I waited for the first man to get in position, taking a sadistic pleasure at him being completely oblivious that death shadowed him.
“Alex in position,” the man said in a tiny microphone hanging from his Bluetooth earpiece.
“Acknowledged,” Stephen’s voice responded.
The muffled sound was barely audible, but my enhanced hearing allowed me to overhear his earpiece. As the man sighted in his gun, I slashed my claws across his throat, quickly covering his mouth and nose to prevent his gurgling sounds from reaching his microphone. I disabled my camouflage so that he could stare his death in the face. Wide eyed, shaking with spasms as his life’s blood poured out in a heavy flow, he looked at me with disbelieving horror before the light faded from his eyes. Holding on to his jacket with my free hand, I gently lowered him to the ground, satisfied that we’d kept the noise to a strict minimum.