Everafter Series 2 - Nevermore (16 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Balthasar Brenner strode out of the café dressed in military fatigues down to the heavy-soled, calf-high boots. His dark hair was gathered loosely at the nape of his neck in a rough braid. When he gestured for his men to fall in beside him, their guns disappeared back into pockets and waistbands. There was no need for firepower now that the master was here. Constantine straightened up from his crouch and let out a low growl. My panther thrashed inside me in agreement.

Brenner’s minions began to herd us into the café, and Katya fell into step behind the group. She locked the door behind her. Brenner gestured for us to take a seat in a booth. The guns were out again now that we were out of sight of any locals. I slid onto the rough wooden bench beside Constantine, trying not to fidget as Brenner pulled up a chair and sat opposite us. My skin prickled and my muscles clenched involuntarily. The last time I had experienced this kind of proximity with a pureblood Were, I had been sitting across a table at a club with Sebastian. I had been uncomfortable then; his pureblood aura mixed with his clear alpha status had triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response in my panther. It had taken considerable force on my part to hold her in check so as not to give Sebastian the pleasure of provoking my turn. Balthasar’s presence was even more intense. Whereas Sebastian channeled his energies into seduction and charisma, his father exuded overwhelming command and demand for obedience. The fact that the full moon was only two days away made assuaging my beast even more difficult. I ground my teeth harshly as Brenner leaned in, and unable to hold his eye contact, I focused on his powerful hands resting on the table. I was surprised at first to find them soft and delicate, more like the hands of a pianist than those of a warmonger. I reminded myself that he was pureblood; any calluses or scars he had sustained since his adolescence would have been erased with each subsequent transformation. His skin would never bear testament to his life of violence.

Brenner and Constantine stared each other down from across the table. Constantine spoke first. “Where is Delacourte?”

“You keep such learned company, Bellande. Dr. Delacourte is far too valuable to waste away in a cell. I have pressed him into a nobler service.”

“Nobility is an outlier with the company you keep.” Constantine shot a dangerous look at Katya. She had the decency to look ashamed for a moment before slamming down a mask of defiance. “I always thought of you as a survivor, Balthasar. Perhaps you have a death wish, bringing down the wrath of the Consortium on your pathetic brood.”

“I have no fear of the Consortium.”

“Then you are as stupid as you are rash.”

Brenner laughed then, a deep, bellowing rumble that shook the room. “Ah, Constantine, I see you are still hiding behind the skirt of that vampire bitch. But look around you.” He gestured broadly around the room. “You have no allies here and none are coming. I made sure of that.”

“You overstep, Balthasar. The Consortium will intervene. Telassar will be returned to its rightful master.”

“You really haven’t learned, have you? Shifters are not the priority of the Consortium. We merely pad their numbers and provide the resources for the vampires to further their own agenda.” Brenner turned and shot me a glare filled with hatred. “And yet those of you in their thrall manage to find new and perverted ways to insult our grand heritage. The Consortium will not come to your rescue because they have more important matters to attend to.”

Constantine’s confidence wavered, but he regained his composure quickly. “You will bring us all to the brink of war.”

The windows of the café rattled as a large vehicle pulled up in front. A sharp horn cut through the silence once, then again. Brenner stood, pulling himself majestically to his full height. He gestured to two of his armed guards who dragged us to our feet.

“We have been at war for centuries. I will bring us victory.”

*

Brenner had us transported by cargo van to a location just outside of town. The ride lasted less than twenty minutes but our new surroundings were remote. It seemed to be some kind of compound with several stone huts arranged haphazardly around a clearing in the woods. Brenner and Katya, who had taken a different car, were nowhere to be seen. As the guards escorted us to one of the huts, I managed to catch sight of Delacourte through the doorway of the largest of the buildings. He was wrapping a splint around someone’s arm. He looked up as we passed by but made no indication that he recognized me.

I had assumed we would be brought directly to Brenner for interrogation or torture, and was surprised when we were shoved into one of the smaller stone huts. The guard slammed the door shut behind us and locked it from the outside. I just barely stopped myself from retching as the acrid scent of urine and wet fur overwhelmed me. There were patches of soiled hay and loose rags scattered over the dirt and rock-strewn floor. Fractured beams of sunlight dappled the walls and floor through seams in the slat and thatched roof above. Constantine took three strides to cross the room. He peered through a thin slit in the wall that served as the only window.

“There are maybe a dozen but no more than twenty men here. Most of them are armed but there are not enough bodies for an invading force. Balthasar must have several of these camps spread throughout the park.” He cocked his head and squinted into the light. “They appear to be…packing.”

“Packing? But where would they go? The full moon is less than forty-eight hours away. They wouldn’t get very far before having to disband for hunting.”

“Not just packing,” Constantine said after another minute of observation. “They are disassembling the camp.”

A glimmer of hope sparked to life within me. “Perhaps the Consortium is on their way, after all.”

“Perhaps. Whatever he is planning, they seem on pace to leave this location just after the full moon.” But Constantine did not sound convinced, even of his own logic. He stepped away from the window and scanned the rest of the room. “I hope we fit into their plans.”

“Why’s that?”

Constantine ran his hand over the walls. “We may be able to break through the roof, but the stone is smooth. Even as panthers we will not be able to climb our way out. And we are close to the mountains, which means there is rock just under the topsoil. We will not be able to dig our way out, either.”

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.”