sunfall (6 page)

“Malcolm!”

The massive head turned in my direction, but he showed no sign of recognition.

“What’s the plan here?” Val spoke softly and slowly, and I recognized her tone as one she had used with me often during my early days as a shifter. But Malcolm wasn’t behaving like a Were; he was behaving like a beast. We needed reinforcements.

“Stay put,” I told her, watching Malcolm shift his attention between us. “Send Constantine,” I called into the tunnel.

Malcolm’s lashing tail snapped the air and I knew we were out of time. Shrugging off my backpack, I dropped to my knees and uttered the word that would call my panther forth.

“Uje!”

As my paws hit the packed earth, Malcolm leapt for Valentine. In that moment, I didn’t care who he was. My mate was in danger, and I would do everything in my power to keep her from harm. Newly formed muscles screamed in protest as I rushed for him.

His claws gleamed like knives as they sliced through the air, and I ducked beneath his reach, scoring a shallow hit across his broad chest. Roaring in pain, he crumpled prematurely to the ground and scrabbled for purchase along the forest floor. I positioned myself between him and Valentine, teeth bared.

I caught Constantine’s scent, and in an instant he was standing beside me, fully shifted. As Malcolm got to his feet, Constantine gave voice to a long, menacing growl. For one fraught moment, it seemed as though Malcolm might charge, but then he sank onto his belly in a clear show of submission. He looked between us, seeming almost confused. Did he simply realize he was outnumbered? Or did he recognize us in our feline forms?

When I took a step forward, Valentine spoke my name. I twisted my head around to meet her eyes, hoping to reassure her. There was only one way to test whether Malcolm was dissembling. I approached him cautiously, a low purr rumbling in my throat. Once I was within his striking distance, I lowered myself to the ground and waited.

As his deep, chocolate eyes stared into mine, I willed him to remember—not only me, but himself. When he surged to his feet, Val’s sharp intake of breath pierced in my ears, but I held my ground. Regally, Malcolm bent his head and touched his nose to mine.

“Come on up,” I heard Val call to Summers and Foster as Constantine took my place. “It’s safe now. I think.”

As the vampires appeared, a low growl rumbled up from Malcolm’s throat, and he took several steps back, clearly uneasy in their presence. When Foster and Summers glanced warily at each other, then back at the tunnel, I was struck by the clear disparity between their abilities and mine. Having fed before we left, they had preternatural strength and speed on their side and could easily overpower a shifter in human form. But without a weapon, their only recourse against a beast of Malcolm’s size and power was to run. Balthasar Brenner had founded his political philosophy on that discrepancy, and while myopic, his theories were all the more potent for containing a kernel of truth.

Constantine made a show of rubbing his shoulder against the vampires’ legs and the clear display of trust seemed to settle Malcolm. Once Foster had replaced the trap door and covered it with a layer of dirt, we moved together toward the arena’s entrance. Malcolm still seemed content to follow Constantine’s lead, but I watched him closely. In his present state, he had the potential to be more of a loose cannon than an ally. We saw no sign of other Weres in the arena, but that was hardly surprising. Anyone who had been hunting when Brenner had invaded must have been alerted and called back into human form.

“Remember,” said Summers as we reached the atrium and prepared to split up. “Don’t initiate communication unless it’s an emergency. Your explosion will be our sign to make a move.”

He and Foster headed toward the nearest stairwell while we took the corridor that led around and behind the arena. The back staircase was closer to the hospital wing, and I was hoping it wouldn’t be heavily guarded. We found no resistance at ground level, but Brenner’s troops could easily have laid a trap for us behind the closed door.

Valentine crept forward on the balls of her feet, her movement soundless even to my ears. I padded beside her, but in a place frequented by a diverse mix of humans, animals, and vampires, even my keen senses were useless. When we arrived at the door, Val reached down to curl the fingers of one hand into the fur covering my neck. I glanced up at her and she nodded. We were going in blind with no weapons but her reflexes and my natural defenses, but at least we were going in together.

She released her grip and counted down from five. As her fist clenched, she flung open the door with her free hand and I raced inside, determined to surprise whoever lurked behind it.

But there was no one. At once surprised and relieved, I let my momentum carry me up the first flight of stairs, experiencing déjà vu as I once again crept cautiously around each blind corner. As the moments passed without any sign of our adversaries, I set a faster pace. The terrible hunger that always accompanied my transformation was growing stronger by the second. Already, I could feel my panther’s instincts beginning to eclipse my human consciousness.

I stopped on the third-floor landing and sank into a crouch. Malcolm and Constantine took up flanking positions behind me, and Val trailed her fingers along my back as she crept silently toward the door. Again, she counted down. Again, I leapt for the open space as soon as she created it.

This time, they were waiting.

Two of Brenner’s soldiers flanked the door, and as I barreled past them I saw them raise their guns in eerie synchronicity. I twisted in midair, ears flat against my head, willing my body out of their bullets’ trajectory. One passed millimeters above my head. The other clipped my shoulder, and I snarled at the bolt of pain that flamed down my leg. I crashed to the floor, paws skidding along the tile. My injured muscles screamed in protest, but I forced my body forward, desperate to feel my enemies’ flesh between my teeth.

Before I could reach them—before they could fire again—Constantine and Malcolm took advantage of the distraction I’d created. One gunman went down without noise. The other’s hoarse shout became a wet gurgle that trickled off into silence. Valentine stepped out into the corridor and scanned in both directions before dropping into a crouch next to the bodies. Once she had deprived them of their weapons, she turned to face me.

“Are you all right, baby?”

I limped toward her, lines of fire radiating down my leg with each step. Val ripped an unbloodied patch of cloth from the shirt of one of Brenner’s soldiers, then knelt to press it against my wound. When I gently butted her knee with my head, she stroked my uninjured side. I leaned into her touch until the sound of Constantine tearing into his kill reminded me of my hunger.

Belly twisting with the spasms, I edged closer to the two bodies. Constantine raised his head just long enough to growl, but Malcolm backed away from his kill. Last week in the arena I had shared prey with him, and now he was returning the favor. I wanted to believe this was another good sign—an indication that he was not totally lost to us.

As I approached the corpse, my hunger ascended, clawing its way up to supplant human reason. A film of red slid over my vision and I surrendered to my feline instincts, cleaving flesh from bone, knowing Valentine would protect me as I fed.

Finally, the urgency ebbed. As my human consciousness returned, I looked to Val who was inspecting her new weapons. Not so very long ago, I would have been ashamed to have her see me in a feeding frenzy. But we knew every aspect of each other fully now—the tender and the violent, the cutthroat and the compassionate, the dark and the light. She was my mate. I felt her in my soul and claimed a place in her body’s every cell.

“If those guards weren’t alone, we’ll have company,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Alexa, are you okay to go on?”

My right leg was stiff and sore, but the flow of blood had stopped and I dipped my head in assent. If I shifted back and forth again, I would be healed but dangerously weak. It was better to carry on, but I let Malcolm and Constantine share the lead as we moved forward.

Ahead, the corridor ended in a T. The silence was oppressive. Every other time I’d visited this floor, the distant beeping of heart monitors and the hustle and bustle of human orderlies had filled the air. Were there no patients in the infirmary, or had they been evacuated? Or worse…

Suddenly, the walls themselves seemed to sigh in a low hissing noise that came from somewhere to our left. I froze, every sense extended. The sound didn’t repeat itself, but I knew I hadn’t imagined it. Constantine and Malcolm quivered beside me, hackles raised. If Val’s reflexes hadn’t been so sharp, she would have crashed into them. The question in her eyes was obvious, but she didn’t speak and her finger hovered just above the trigger of her firearm.

I began to move forward, but her hand on my flank made me pause. She shook her head once before flattening herself against the wall at the edge of the intersection. I let her go. Now that she was armed, she could lay down cover fire for us if necessary.

In one fluid movement, she spun into the open, gripping her weapon with both hands. When her shoulders dropped infinitesimally, I knew we were clear to join her. She set a quick pace down the hall, which ended in a sliding door. I had never been inside the laboratory, but if its door was pressurized, that could have been the source of the mysterious sound. Still, that meant someone had opened or closed it—someone who would doubtless be waiting for us. As we approached, Constantine and Malcolm fanned out to flank Valentine, leaving me to guard her back. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Without any warning, Val broke into a run. After a split second of confusion, we leapt into motion behind her. As she triggered the door, she dropped into a slide along the slick tiles. Gunfire erupted from the threshold, but the bullets passed above us. I heard the sharp report of her weapon and then the gunman slumped to the floor, a quarter-sized hole in the center of his forehead.

Valentine never stopped moving, instead using her momentum to propel herself back onto her feet. But just as she regained her balance, another human figure stepped out of concealment behind the door. He was too close to fire, but he swung viciously at her head with the butt of his assault rifle. Faster than I could follow, Val dodged the blow just far enough so that it caught her in the shoulder. The coppery scent of her blood filled the air as she staggered and crashed into the wall.

Rage welled up in me, eclipsing the pain of my injury. But even as I raced to Val’s defense, two wolves emerged from the shadows behind the door. Constantine and Malcolm rushed forward to meet them, and the air filled with the sounds of snapping and snarling. For a moment, it seemed as though Val’s assailant would land another strike with his weapon, but she ducked his next blow and delivered a powerful uppercut that snapped his head back. By the time I’d arrived at her feet, she had lunged to the side, raised her gun, and dispatched him.

Despite the blood streaming down her arm, Val didn’t so much as pause to catch her breath. Swiftly, she swung the bag down from her shoulders and began to set the explosive charge. As she worked, I rejoined Malcolm and Constantine, who were licking minor wounds after their most recent fight.

And then, over the antiseptic flavor of the air and the pungent musk of Were sweat and the metallic odor of blood, I caught his scent. Balthasar Brenner. I would have recognized it anywhere, and though my human brain flooded over with remembered fear and anxiety, my animal instincts knew only rage.

When his scent grew stronger, I realized he was approaching from the corridor intersecting this hallway just a few feet ahead of us. Val was oblivious, and I had no time to make her understand. I charged into her, throwing her off-balance and sending her skidding toward the right-hand alcove just inside the door. She grunted in pain, but I turned away, paws scrabbling at the tile as I tried to build up momentum. Before I could gain purchase on the floor, Malcolm shot past me. He reached the corner just as Brenner stepped around it. The world slowed as Malcolm bowled into his nemesis, claws extended. Gunfire echoed between the walls and blood spattered across the gleaming floor, a crimson Rorschach blot.

A hush fell over the corridor. Malcolm’s back legs twitched, but otherwise, there was no sign of movement. I edged closer, my senses straining. Had Malcolm triumphed, only to be struck down himself? Was Brenner still alive?

Suddenly, Malcolm flopped onto his side. I had only a second to realize my mistake before I flattened myself into the alcove across from Valentine, barely evading the barrage of bullets that sprayed into the hall. Brenner was manipulating Malcolm’s injured body—using him as a shield. There was nothing I could do to get to him, short of putting myself in the line of fire. Val caught my eye and shook her head, then hefted her rifle. I understood; she would try to keep Brenner distracted. Perhaps she would even get lucky.

But as she began to return fire, it quickly became clear that Brenner had the superior tactical position. Val had to take care with her shots so as not to further injure Malcolm, whose back legs continued to scrape weakly against the floor. He seemed to have lost all control of his front legs, and Brenner could easily have put him out of his misery. Doubtless, he realized we’d be less aggressive if he allowed Malcolm to live.

Each time I tried to take advantage of Val’s cover fire, Brenner managed to force me back into the shadows. When I turned to catch a glimpse of Constantine, I found him trapped just outside the lab. His weight held the door open, but whenever he tried to make his way toward me, Brenner sprayed the corridor with bullets.