by Nell Stark
The realization hit me with a wave of panic. “So when we transform with the full moon…” I trailed off as my imagination filled in the blanks.
“If we cannot hunt, we will turn on each other eventually.”
*
Night finally came and banished the oppressive heat that had threatened to bake us alive in the hut. Nobody came to the door to bring us food or water, reinforcing my fear that we were being left here to die. I didn’t want to admit that Balthasar’s boasts were getting the best of me, but with each passing moment, the hope that the Consortium would ride in and rescue us grew dimmer and dimmer. Would Helen look out for my best interests if Valentine wasn’t threatened? Constantine had been aloof and secretive throughout our captivity, understandably preoccupied by our predicament, and in that silent moment, my heart ached even more forcefully for Val. She was my tether to this community. I was honest enough with myself to recognize that the only reason most vampires or Weres took any notice of me at all was because of the unusual nature of our relationship. Other than Karma and Kyle, nobody else in the New York community acknowledged me as an individual. That knowledge had only fueled my desire to come to Telassar and capitalize on the special bond I had with my panther. To explore our vast potential. Val had recognized the strength of that desire and had graciously encouraged my trip, despite the physical strain it would put on her.
Perhaps I had been misguided. If only I had been content to remain at home with her… Not allowing myself to finish the thought, I shook off my despondence and looked over at Constantine, who had stretched himself out on the floor. I needed to take a lesson from his calm in the midst of so much chaos.
My eyes bored into his prone figure, attempting to dissect the motives that had made him the object of Balthasar Brenner’s fury. Constantine was loyal to Helen, that much was obvious, but he didn’t carry himself in the manner of an obsequious crony like Clavier or a dutiful lackey like Darren. There was respect in the way he spoke about her, and something else. I couldn’t place it, but I was sure that whatever it was, it was the reason Brenner had taken such great delight in disabusing Constantine of the notion that we would be rescued.
Ironically, now that we were both captives, we finally had the time together that had eluded us all summer. I decided to take advantage of his presence. “Why did you allow me to spend this summer with you?”
Constantine was quiet for so long, I assumed he had either fallen asleep or was doing some kind of meditation. I was just about to give sleep another try when he spoke. “Helen asked if I might consider inviting you to Telassar and I was happy to oblige her.”
I wondered why Helen had asked in the first place. She’d made it clear that she only cared about my well-being insofar as it impacted Valentine. Had she wanted to get me out of New York for some reason? The thought that she might have some kind of designs on Valentine made my blood boil, and I took a deep, steadying breath.
“You are the Weremaster of Telassar. Surely even Helen’s significant power couldn’t force you into anything you didn’t want to do.” I cringed inwardly at the childish note I heard in my own voice. As much as I resented being treated like a second-class citizen in the hierarchy of the Consortium, I didn’t need to reinforce their disdain by acting like a brat.
Constantine frowned. “I was happy to take you in. You and I share many traits, including an unusually strong bond with our panthers. And we are similarly indebted to Helen Lambros. Although I choose to repay her with gratitude.”
His rebuke hit me like a slap in the face. I almost missed the implication in his statement. “Helen orchestrated your infection with the Were virus? Why?”
“Why would she help me? Or why would I desire the transformation? I do not know why she helped me. I do know that there have been many others like us, who have chosen this existence. It is why I sought her out in the first place. She seems to have a sympathy toward people in our situation.” Constantine hesitated, seeming loath to reveal too much personal information.
“Sympathy? More like she saw an opportunity to garner favors to further her own agenda.” I bristled at the memory of Helen practically undressing Val with her eyes as I pled my case to receive the Were virus.
“I was nobody. There was no reason for her to covet my favors.”
“But you became a Weremaster and the champion of Telassar. It looks like her investment paid off royally with you.”
Constantine barked out a humorless laugh. “Alexa. Did nobody warn you of the risks before you became a panther? We are solitary animals. As such, our life expectancy as Weres is short. Helen was not making an investment in me. She was doing me a favor.”
A short life expectancy and a solitary nature? I wondered if Helen had intentionally picked such a challenging animal for me. I gritted my teeth. It didn’t matter. As long as I had Valentine, I would never be alone. “So it seems she doomed us both.”
“No. I cannot say why she chose me to be your sire, but the panther form was of my choosing.” Constantine paused again. When he continued, he sounded soft and distant. “I chose this life to take care of my brother. Fabian did not select his fate; an unlucky encounter on a full moon decided for him.”
Regret and a profound sadness inflected Constantine’s voice, along with an echo of the anger that he often wore like a coat of armor. Curiosity replaced the shock I felt at the fact that he had finally revealed a shred of his personal story. “What happened?”
“My brother contracted the virus but had a difficult time with the transition. He became violent and withdrawn. Most of my family abandoned him. But I could not. He was my only brother, and I was determined to discover what had changed him. For months, I followed him everywhere, and on one full moon, I witnessed his secret. When he changed back into human form, I confronted him.”
“Oh my God. He had to do all of that alone?”
“No. Not alone. Fabian told me that the Were who accidentally attacked him had brought him into the community for treatment and training. It did not help. My brother could not handle his animal half.”
I remembered one of the many conversations that Karma had with me back when I was preparing for my infection. She had warned me of what could happen if I could not control my beast. “He became feral?”
“Yes.”
I could not contain the small, involuntary cry that escaped me. Turning feral was a terrible fate. It meant permanently subordinating your humanity to the beast. A feral Were never regained human form.
“It did not happen right away. He fought it as long as he could. But it was obvious to me that he would lose the battle. I approached his sire and begged him to turn me too. He would not. The governing body of Weres at the time forbade it. So I began to frequent all the Were hunting grounds on the full moon, hoping to be attacked. That was how I caught Helen’s attention. The Consortium did not exist then, but Helen was part of a fledgling alliance between vampires and Weres. She heard about the human with the death wish. When I explained Fabian’s situation and my desires, she agreed to help, even though it was against the wishes of the Weremaster of Africa.”
“How were you infected?”
“The techniques were not as advanced one hundred years ago. Helen had my brother’s blood transfused directly into me. It was a highly dangerous procedure, because in order to get the active Werevirus into my system, my brother had to be in his feline form during the transfusion. Fabian was caged during the process, but the sight of his panther hurling himself against the bars will forever haunt me. He raged until he was bloody and continued until he was unconscious. There was hatred and murder in his eyes the entire time.”
“I am so sorry.” The process of infection was the most intense physical pain I had ever experienced. I couldn’t imagine having to shoulder that degree of emotional pain as well.
“By the time I adjusted to my animal, it was too late. Fabian had lost his battle and could no longer change back into human form. I kept track of him the best that I could
. Without the regenerative properties of transformation, he lived out the rest of his panther’s life. When he died, I buried him with my own hands in the fields where we used to play as children.”
As Constantine’s story ended, I felt him withdraw and sever the connection we had so unexpectedly forged. So we did share a common bond beyond the biological. He, too, had chosen this life for a loved one. I wondered if Helen had kept that in mind when she asked him to be my sire.
As I stared through the slit window at the moon, waxing gibbous in the ebony sky, I wondered if I would ever have the chance to ask her.
Chapter Fourteen
As full moonrise drew near, it became impossible for me to sit still, and I began to pace the length of our narrow cell. Early that morning, one of Brenner’s soldiers had tossed a canteen of water into the hut through the window, but they had continued to deprive us of food. My hunger, combined with the insistent push of my panther at the nearness of the full moon, conspired to fray my nerves. Constantine watched me from across the room, arms wrapped around his knees as he sat on the bare ground against the far wall.
“How do you do it?” I asked finally, exasperation snapping my voice.
A sympathetic smile flashed across his lips. “Many years of practice.” He looked at the slivers of night sky visible through the gaps in the roof thatching. “My panther knows that he will be free soon enough, and he knows that I will not resist him. We are both content to wait for that moment.”
“Whereas I’m still fighting her.” I forced my frenetic feet to stop and focused on holding myself still. On the few occasions when his schedule had allowed us the time to meet, Constantine’s message had been consistent: the key to full integration was to willingly allow the panther and human consciousnesses to bleed into one another—not just sometimes, but always. She would emerge when the moon rose, as was her nature. Any measure of unwillingness on my part was just unproductive human stubbornness. I had to let go of it.
Closing my eyes, I took one deep breath and then another. I could feel her thrashing at the doors of my brain, trying to assert her dominance in the face of my obstinance. The stress of being a captive, of my uncertain future, of being far from home and away from Val—all of it made me want to keep command of my own self. But right now, in the face of a full moon, none of it mattered. My panther would come and it was pointless for me to do anything but welcome her.
A subtle shift, an expectant pause. She was listening. I kept my breathing steady and thought of what would happen in a few minutes—of the glistening moon that would brighten the sky and bring her into the world. Her eagerness and anticipation were palpable. Soon, I thought. Soon. An image flashed behind my eyes, then: her, us, lying in wait, concealed among the deep grass of the savannah. Ready and alert, but no longer agitated. Yes. I smiled.
“Impressive.” Constantine’s rare praise brought me out of my own head, and as I opened my eyes, I realized that the needling sensation—as though I’d been about to crawl out of my own skin—had subsided.
“Thank you.” I paused as the precariousness of our situation once again reasserted itself. When Brenner’s men returned from their hunt, would they bring us prey so that we too could transform back? Or would they torture us, leaving us imprisoned and ravenous, until one turned on the other? I knew my panther would want to obey Constantine, her alpha and sire. But when her hunger reached fever pitch? Then what?
Sensing my growing unrest, Constantine stood. “Do not lose hope. Perhaps our feline halves will find a way to escape that we have overlooked.”
I nodded. And then I felt it—a sense of gathering pressure in my mind, like the expectant hush before a summer storm.
“Ah,” Constantine said. “It is time.”
I looked up and saw the instant in which the pitch black of the sky brightened to a deep sapphire as the moon broke over the horizon. She called my panther, demanding the release of my animal self, and I obeyed.
“Uje,” I whispered, dropping to my knees.
But I never hit the floor. She was upon me in an instant, the wrenching transition giving way to a new, sharper reality. Balancing lightly on the pads of my feet, I swung to my left at the sound of Constantine’s rumbled greeting. I touched my nose to his, then stretched out on my front paws, ducking my head in an instinctual gesture of obedience. Hunger knotted my belly, and together we paced the perimeter of the walls in search of a weakness. The fresh air filtering through the broken roof teased us with its promise of the outside world; the walls were too high and too smooth to scale, and the ground too packed for digging.
The sound of approaching footsteps froze us both, and we crouched low to the ground, tails lashing. Brenner kept his camp free of human influence. How was someone out there, walking around on two legs?
The door to our prison rattled and a key turned in the lock. It swung open to reveal Delacourte, visibly trembling, sweat streaming down his face. He had taken wolfsbane—a near-toxic dose, by the looks of it—to resist the change. A low whine escaped my throat as the scent of him piqued my hunger, but Constantine, fully in control, loped forward to rub his flank against Delacourte’s legs. I stood out of my crouch, ears pricking forward as he spoke.
“Most of them went north, I think.” He forced out the words between chattering teeth before collapsing to the ground and curling into fetal position. I vaulted over his body, and together, Constantine and I looked on as Delacourte writhed in the dirt while the wolfsbane and the moon competed for dominance in his blood. Thankfully, his beast won out within moments, and where the man had trembled in agony stood a large gray bear. When he shook his massive head and bared his teeth in a snarl, I took a few steps backward. But Constantine stood his ground and growled back. For a moment, the panther and the bear faced off, until Delacourte’s snarls subsided and he sank to his haunches in acquiescence of Constantine’s authority.
Constantine loped into the night and turned south. We fell in behind him. The bear lumbered beside me, foliage crackling under his huge paws, and I knew if any of the enemy were nearby they would hear our passage. Fortunately, Delacourte was also a formidable combatant.
Just as I was feeling a glimmer of hope that we would not, in fact, be detected, Constantine slowed to a stop and raised his nose to the air. When I followed his lead, the faint scent burned my nostrils: Katya and two other lions, downwind and approaching. Hoping to divide their force, we split, Constantine and I taking off toward the west and Delacourte heading east.
We ran more swiftly than before, but with ears flickering back and forth in an effort to catch wind of our pursuers. I had expected that they would leave Delacourte behind in favor of us, but within minutes, we heard his roar as they caught him up. Constantine stopped so quickly I was forced to leap over him before skidding through grass and weeds to a halt.
As one, we took off in the direction from which we’d come, racing to Delacourte and the fight. He had risked his life to save us, and we would do no less for him. The sound of snapping and snarling grew ever louder, and when we broke into a clearing in the trees, I took stock of the situation without slowing my pace. Katya menaced Delacourte from the front, while her male companions tormented his flanks. One had already scored a hit—a deep, three-point gouge just in front of Delacourte’s left leg. Blood matted the hair around the wound and trickled onto the forest floor, and he was favoring that entire side of his body.
Several yards ahead of me, Constantine leapt for the closest lion and I set my sights on the one who had already injured Delacourte. As I approached, the lion turned from his prey and struck without prelude, aiming straight for my jugular. I leapt over him nimbly, digging my claws into his back as my momentum carried me dangerously close to one of the trees that encircled the clearing. He roared in pain and lashed out with one of his hind legs, very nearly catching me in the head. Panting, I circled back to face him.
This time, when he leapt forward I met him in midair, butting him in the chest as he once again went for m
y neck. I closed my jaw around the top of one of his forelegs, but he curled his hind legs forward and ripped open a shallow furrow in my belly. I twisted away, barely feeling the sting. He was bigger and stronger than me, but I was faster, and I used that to my advantage now.
I dashed beneath him and tore open a gash in his chest, then darted away before he could react. I returned over and over, never letting up on my attacks, forcing him to spin in a defensive circle. When he finally lunged at me, maddened by the pain, I avoided his attack and raked my claws deep into the muscle of his hindquarters. He stumbled, and I took full advantage, spinning to sink my teeth into the soft flesh below his jaw. He collapsed, twitching, and I fought back the demands of my overwhelming hunger with difficulty. Constantine and Delacourte were still fighting. I had to help them.
But I was too late. Even as I raised my muzzle from the lion’s body, Delacourte went down like a tree felled by an avalanche, Katya clinging to his throat. Blood gushed from the fatal wound, spraying her face and coat with crimson gore. With a roar of my own, I raced to confront her, determined to avenge my friend and rescuer, but Constantine was several steps ahead of me.
She had swung toward me at my bellow of rage, and he took advantage of the opportunity, leaping astride her back and sealing his formidable jaws in the thick folds of skin that protected her spinal cord. Once, twice, three times he shook her, until, with an audible snap, she collapsed.
A hush fell over the forest. I loped gingerly to Delacourte and pushed my nose against his, hoping for some sign of life. But that vital spark within him was gone. Only the shell, ravaged and bloody, remained.
At the sight of Constantine feeding from Katya’s corpse, I returned to my own kill and gorged myself. As my hunger began to subside, I grew increasingly conscious of the pain in my belly. The wound would hamper my ability to run and would lay down an easy scent trail for Brenner’s forces. I had to shift back to human form so that it could heal.