Bite Back Box Set 2

by Mark Henwick

  “Uh, yeah.”

  That was an order, not a request.

  And I had nowhere else to go anyway. I guessed it all came down to the last card on the table. Did Huang know where the auction was, and could we match his price?

  “He’s sent Mr. Gayle to collect you. I guess that might be him there.” Ingram pointed up to where another helicopter’s lights showed Victor orbiting, waiting for the FBI helicopter to leave.

  I’d mentioned to Jen that having Victor Gayle down here with a helicopter might be useful, and it appeared she’d taken it seriously.

  Even the thought of seeing Victor failed to lift my spirits. The gray fog of depression swirled around my head, making everything else seem far away and unimportant. I hadn’t felt like this since I’d lost my whole team in South America.

  Or when my dad died.

  Ingram didn’t know what was wrong with me any more than I did, but he was sensing it. He touched my arm before ducking down and disappearing back into his helicopter, which took off immediately.

  Reed was on his cell, coordinating detectives from his department to pair up with the FBI agents as Victor came in to land.

  Not Jen’s Bell 407 helicopter; Victor had managed to acquire an ex-military Gazelle helicopter, faster and more maneuverable than the Bell. He didn’t cut the engines; he just waved at us to board.

  Yelena and I ducked and started forward.

  Reed paused his cellphone conversation and grabbed my arm.

  “Just who the hell are you?” Reed hissed at me.

  “Someday, I may tell you, Lieutenant. Not today.”

  He managed half a smile and let me go.

  We climbed on board and Victor was lifting off before we strapped in.

  “We’re heading back to Bembridge Studios. Double quick.” Victor’s growl was loud in my ears as I put headphones on.

  “What’s up, big man?” I put an effort into sounding upbeat, but I failed.

  “Mr. Tarez mighty upset about something, Amber.”

  “Me?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  Victor wasn’t kin. Tarez wouldn’t have explained much to him and there wasn’t any point in questioning him.

  The Gazelle had turned west. The pretty lights of skyscrapers and downtown swung behind us, and already we were sinking down towards the studios. LA was much smaller at a thousand feet in the air.

  Yelena was shaking her head. She looked as grim as I felt—and as unsettled by it.

  I reached out to her with my eukori and found the same dark despair as I felt. Something was very wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what, or with whom.

  Bembridge Studios had been lit up like an airfield. In fact, it was an airfield. The wide lawns in front held two huge Sikorsky S-92 helicopters with just enough room left over for us. Altau security vans stood in rows along the drive.

  All caused by the attack on the conference center? Another attack?

  No, that didn’t feel right.

  It wasn’t just me and Yelena. Something else was wrong. Unoiled-squealing-hinge, nails-on-a-blackboard wrong. Worse. Twisting its way around my body like razor wire.

  Yelena leaned over and pulled my headphones off to speak directly into my ear.

  “Problem,” she said, slipping back deeply into her Ukrainian accent. “Big problem. Is not good.”

  “What is it?” I twisted like a gaffed fish, unable to shed the sense of despair.

  “Don’t know. This is eukori. A lot of powerful Athanate in small place. Like when we work together: the eukori from each person, it builds on the next person, again and again. Something very bad happen. All Athanate near here feel it.”

  We sank down to land on the lawn.

  Chapter 64

  Altau had taken over the entire studios. Security were everywhere, commsets on their heads and weapons ready.

  “Straight down the corridor. Main hall.” They spoke quietly. No one met my eyes.

  Yelena and I ran.

  The reduction in the number of Athanate representatives in LA had made it possible to fit all of them, with their security, into the main hall at the heart of the complex.

  The crowd seethed. Whatever had happened, this was where it was centered.

  I looked for the flashpoints, clusters of Panethus or Hidden Path, arguments, but it wasn’t like that.

  It wasn’t like that at all.

  “Make way for her.” Eugenie, House Passau, was suddenly at my shoulder, hand gripping my arm, guiding me along gently and shoving Athanate out of the way.

  “I am so sorry, Amber,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  It was difficult to focus. The pressure of the emotion kept ratcheting up until I got angry and pushed back at it.

  And then, finally, the last of the crowd parted.

  A bier draped in gold cloth, like you would have for someone famous to lie in state. Alex standing beside it. Skylur. Tarez. Huang. Correia. Stanbrigge. Prowser.

  On the bier. A body. Hands crossed on her stomach. Great dark eyes closed.

  “No!”

  Diana Ionache looked serene, at peace, the one quiet center in this whirlpool of shocked and disbelieving Athanate. The one finally beyond our strife.

  “No!” I shouted. I looked around, frantic. “She was all right. She was all right.”

  Alex was beside me, his arms comforting me.

  “The damage done by the Taos Adepts,” he said. “They think it was just too much for her to recover. Trying to heal herself…something went wrong.”

  “No.”

  She had been fine. She’d been recovering.

  Oh, my God. What was it she had said that night when she visited me?

  I will go on and wait for you, beloved, however long you may be.

  She’d known she was dying, that she couldn’t honor her oath to be with me. Not in the flesh.

  The Tuareg say the khamsin brings dreams and fevers, she’d said. That spirits talk across the veil of death when the khamsin sings.

  I shuddered. No. She’d been real. It hadn’t been a dream and she hadn’t been a spirit.

  I fell to my knees beside the bier.

  My mentor. The Kumemnon, as Huang had called her, the title echoing with awe.

  I could almost hear her voice. When we’d first spoken of her being my mentor, what had she said? The way is dark, and long.

  It was darker now. Much, much darker.

  All around us, Athanate grieved, Panethus and Hidden Path both. Our own word for ourselves meant immortal, and when one of the eldest died, that proud boast shrank. The truly eternal night pressed in. It touched all equally, every one of us, and we were diminished by it.

  I leaned against the bier, my hand over Diana’s. It seemed impossible that she was gone. I looked at Skylur, whose face looked as if it had been carved in stone. How long had they known each other? Centuries? Millenia? His loss must be incalculable.

  He didn’t meet my eyes.

  Huang was speaking. “I greatly regret this, but if we are to avoid a second calamity for House Farrell, then we must proceed with some urgency.”

  A second calamity. Tamanny. Dante. Focus on the living.

  I dragged myself back to my feet.

  “You know where the auction is?” I asked.

  Skylur held up a hand for silence and guided some of us toward a separate room. His face looked empty, like a mask had been settled over his features. A mask of iron.

  There were fifteen in that room: Skylur, Tarez, Alex, Yelena and me, Huang and three of his Adepts, Correia and three Hidden Path I didn’t know, Houses Stanbrigge and Ó Ruairc representing the Midnight Empire.

  The door closed behind us, shutting out the sight of the bier with its press of mourners.

  Outside, someone began to speak softly in Athanate. I recognized the rhythms of the Lamentation of Arunne. Others joined in, and my vision blurred at the sound.

  Huang eyed the others, then turned to Skylur, his hands opened in question.


  “The truth, Diakon Huang,” Skylur said. “For all here to hear. We have no time left for anything else.”

  Huang nodded. “I will speak openly then, but I urge you all to restrict what you say about dragons to others.”

  Correia blinked. “That’s what you’ve been so distracted by? This rumor of dragons started by Altau?”

  “No rumor, House Correia.” Huang gestured with his hands. “A dragon spirit was present, and broke the lock on the Kumemnon. It has since disappeared. The question is, what has happened to it? We’ve searched this continent from end to end and found nothing.”

  “Why, Diakon?” Correia asked. “Why this effort?”

  “To preserve the dragon’s life, and the life of the host, prevent harm, and realize an immense benefit for the entire paranormal community.”

  Stanbrigge shook his head impatiently. “You say for the entire community. I take it you mean the Empire first?”

  “The dragon would, of necessity, reside with us,” Huang said. “Benefit would therefore start in our domains, but it would quickly spread to all paranormal communities who wished to engage. The dragon provides a focus of Adept and paranormal abilities that can be achieved no other way, and will provide a defense against those parts of humanity which would not accept us.”

  How?

  Truth or half-truths?

  Defense? Focus? Engage? What did he mean? We had to come under one rule and could then force humanity to do what we said?

  Huang wasn’t readable to me, but Tarez had talked to him on this before.

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he said. “We’ve been through all this and your implication that the Empire would use the power to protect Emergence by force is concerning. The important facts tonight remain: you know where Forsythe’s auction is; we don’t know where the dragon is. There can be no link.”

  “But there is, House Tarez.” Huang closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. When they opened again, they were full of regret and fastened on me.

  “The Emperor commands, and I must obey,” he muttered to himself.

  He indicated the group behind him. “My colleagues are the most skilled Adepts in the whole Empire, the most knowledgeable about dragons. Our hunt across the width and breadth of this continent has given us nothing. No uninjured, immature dragon and young host could hide themselves from our search. This leads us inescapably to the conclusion that they are injured, possibly seriously. We must therefore search backward in time to pick up the trail. The type and extent of the injury will inform us how to search, and possibly where to search.”

  What?

  “Be clear, Diakon,” Tarez said.

  “My request today, so ill-timed, was to examine the memories of the Kumemnon for some hint of the state of the dragon, some clue about injuries and intentions, at the moment the lock was destroyed and the dragon touched upon her mind.” He lowered his head. “Ill-timed, as I said, and again, I offer my sympathies and apologies, those of the Emperor and the entire Empire. The Athanate world has suffered an incalculable loss.”

  He paused and I stirred. I knew what was coming next.

  “Given the circumstances, I now request to access House Farrell’s memories,” he said. “She was part of this event, possibly even better placed to reveal what happened.”

  Anger beat at me, throbbing in my chest, nearly choking me, forcing the fog of grief out of my head.

  “You’re holding back the location of the auction to blackmail me into allowing you into my head?”

  Correia’s opinion was clear. If Huang was saying a dragon could force humanity to accept us, she was all for it.

  “What have you got to hide?” she said. “The Diakon has said this is in all our interests. It must be done. This is our obligation. Altau, command her.”

  “I will not order her to submit to this,” Skylur said. “But I free her to make her own decision.”

  But what did he mean? Do it or not? They’d warned me about being caught by Huang.

  If I allowed him to read my memories, what if something there did reveal where Tullah and Kaothos were? That was betrayal. But what if they were hurt, as Huang said, and needed help? Did Skylur really know how they were? Had Diana?

  What if Huang learned something of the Southern League? Did that mean I betrayed them too?

  What if Huang saw that I’d gone rogue? If this was anything like a therapy session, with him as xenagia, the guide, and the others as stirythes, all of them would see I’d gone rogue. Whatever Huang might decide, I knew Correia would demand my execution under Agiagraphos law. And the majority of the Athanate outside would support her.

  But at least Skylur would know where the auction was. Someone would rescue Dante and Tamanny.

  “There’s no time for this,” Tarez said to Huang. “If you delay any longer, there’s going to be no reason for House Farrell to give you anything. The auction will be over. One member of her House dead, the other sold, all thanks to you. And remember, Farrell is a sub-House of Altau. These young women are House Altau too.”

  Thank you, Tarez.

  And though Tamanny wasn’t formally my House, she might as well have been.

  “All this talk of benefit and advantage makes me sick,” Alex said to Huang. “You’re morally obliged to help.”

  “I would personally agree, kin-Farrell,” Huang said. “But I am bound by my duty to the Empire. Empires can make no judgements other than as Empires, and all our personal concerns count as nothing against the concerns of the Empire. You heard my words before the Assembly; to be Athanate is to shoulder a greater destiny, and with that destiny may come many burdens. I am bound upon the wheel of heaven; I must sacrifice my personal feelings for the greater good of the Empire as a whole.”

  He sighed, and turned to me again.

  “Nevertheless, within those constraints, what I can do, I will. Do this for me, House Farrell, I beg you. In return, I offer our two helicopters outside, sufficient to carry twenty Altau troops each, with the coordinates programmed in and pilots ready to fly immediately under your instruction. Once we are finished here, you can be at the auction site in minutes. As much as we know of the layout of that site has been uploaded to a tablet computer which will be waiting for you outside. The auction has some time to run yet. You would not be too late.”

  Skylur’s face was unreadable as he murmured something to Tarez, who stepped back to make a call.

  What do I do?

  If Huang found Kaothos because of what I did, and he took her away, Panethus would have lost a huge benefit or bargaining chip against the Empire. I might have betrayed Tullah and Kaothos. Or saved their lives.

  Was I right to assume Kaothos was a benefit and wouldn’t self-destruct without the Empire’s communities?

  And if I refused and Tamanny and Dante died because of that…

  Skylur and Tarez warned me to keep away from Huang.

  But Tarez had sent Victor to fetch me here. He knew Huang would put this pressure on me.

  What did Skylur and Tarez really want me to do? Their faces remained unreadable. Whatever their plan, it seemed they would not reveal it in front of Huang.

  I had no guides but myself.

  And I could make no judgements at the level of their empires and Altau’s secret plans. I could only decide based on what mattered to me, as a person and as House Farrell.

  Skylur had to know that. He knew what decision I would make freely, and he’d said I would be free to make it.

  “I’ll do it,” I said.

  Chapter 65

  “The opening of the lock,” Skylur said. “Not a moment more.”

  “I will not pry,” Huang said.

  “I know,” Skylur replied, stepping up behind me.

  His arms came around me, taking my weight, one hand reaching up and pulling my head back against his shoulder.

  My heart raced and I clutched at his arms.

  Wait! Too quick! What if it all went wrong? I needed to s
ay something to Alex first…

  “Calm, Amber,” he whispered in my ear. “Trust me.”

  Huang stepped up and passed a hand over my face, closing my eyes. I found I couldn’t open them again.

  And there was nothing all around me. I was floating, alone.

  No.

  Standing. Standing on a firm surface.

  Aware of such power around me. Feeling the warmth of it rising up from the soles of my feet to the tip of my head.

  I was a child of ten. Standing on the Hoover dam. Scared. It all seemed so vast. Dad’s arms around me. Safe. Safe. Such power.

  Skylur, not Dad. LA, not the Hoover Dam. But safe.

  Huang’s hand was on my forehead. There was a gentle pressure. His telergy felt like neither Skylur nor Diana.

  In fact, it felt like...maybe the sun shining on my face. A feeling of softness seeped into my head. Unrelenting. Terrifying. But then…so far, no further. Beyond that, I sensed the absolute power and steel doors that tasted of Skylur, and divided my mind.

  Huang would get what he had bargained for and not one stray thought more.

  Behind Huang, every Athanate in the room was watching. I could feel the weight of their eyes. And I could feel Huang’s Adept companions as if every one of them were pushing and probing at me.

  Falling.

  For a second, I felt the panic returning. My hands twitched and my body tensed.

  And then it was cold and dark, and the night was full of screaming.

  The working created by the Taos Adepts, the lock that holds Diana, is a living, evil thing. It’s howling. The sound reaches into me and makes my bones ache.

  What must it feel like for Diana, at the center of that squirming mass of energy?

  Four Adepts stand around her, the main support for the working. All the Taos Adepts, even those scattered around the hillside, are feeding into it. And they harvest energy from the children. The children are dying. Diana is dying. The Adepts are dying. We’re all freaking dying.

  The lock itself is sapping the life from us.

  I struggle with the Adepts. I free one single strand of the working. I ground the energy through myself, and I scream. It’s like acid in my veins.