Sunfall Page 4

  “What are you thinking?” Constantine asked.

  “I’m imagining a real dinner.”

  His laughter reminded me of just how long it had been since I’d heard him express any measure of joy. For decades, Constantine had governed the secret Were city of Telassar, but Balthasar Brenner’s army had forced him to abandon his post and go into hiding.

  “That vending machine does leave much to be desired,” he said.

  The sound of Val’s footsteps in the foyer brought a smile to my face. As she entered the kitchen I tilted my head back, inviting her touch. She began at my temples, massaging lightly in small circles, then continued down the nape of my neck with firmer strokes. Not wanting to make Constantine uncomfortable, I stifled the groan of pleasure that welled up from my chest.

  “How is Helen?” Constantine asked.

  Val stilled her hands. “Hard to tell. Solana’s doing what she can.”

  I sat up with a sigh of regret. “Have Summers and Foster had any luck making contact with Headquarters?”

  “They were still trying on the shortwave radio when last I saw them.”

  Constantine pushed his chair back and began to pace. “We need to make our move. Now. Every minute we wait gives Brenner more opportunity to secure his presence.”

  The sound of harsh whispers down the hall drew my attention to the threshold, where Summers and Foster appeared a few moments later. Their eyes were bloodshot, the skin around their lips taut with thirst and fatigue.

  “We haven’t been able to reach anyone,” Summers said as he slid into the chair Constantine had vacated.

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean the worst, does it?” I asked. “They may be keeping quiet on purpose. Brenner might have the shortwave frequencies under surveillance.”

  “Perhaps.” Foster leaned against the doorframe, fingers tapping restlessly against the chipped wooden surface. “As I see it, we have two options. The first is to wait for reinforcements and then mount some kind of offensive. The second is to go in now while Brenner is still preoccupied with taking full control of the building.”

  Constantine slapped both palms on the table. “Now.”

  Val laced her fingers with mine, and when I squeezed hard, she nodded. “We’re in.”

  “There’s a secret entrance we can try,” said Summers. “A tunnel from the basement of the public library two blocks away. But the library has a metal detector, so we’ll have to go in without guns.”

  “Where exactly does the tunnel lead?” I asked.

  “The arena. Its opening is concealed in the forested section.”

  I reflected back to the last time I’d hunted there, only days ago. Even in my feline form, I hadn’t sensed anything like what Summers was describing. That was encouraging. Besides, Brenner would most likely be focused on breaking into the War Room. With luck, the arena wouldn’t yet be under surveillance.

  Unexpectedly, I felt my panther stir. Disjoined images cascaded through my brain: a flash of tawny fur and red-gold mane; fierce, glittering eyes framing a broad muzzle; light glinting off wickedly curved teeth. They were the memories of my panther, forced across the thin barrier that separated her consciousness from mine.

  “Malcolm! He might help us.”

  When everyone turned to look at me, I realized I’d spoken the thought. I couldn’t think of him without also being reminded of Karma, and I tipped my head back to rest against Val’s abdomen, trying to quiet the fluttering panic that filled my chest every time I imagined what Karma must be going through. Now was not the time for speculation. I had to believe she would be safe until we could come for her, but every intervening minute decreased the odds of her survival. Constantine was right. We didn’t have the luxury of concocting an elaborate plan. We had to move.

  “You might be right about Malcolm,” Constantine acknowledged, and I felt my panther thrill to his words. Not only did she respect Malcolm’s position as alpha Were, but she also wanted to see him avenged on Brenner. “But even if he doesn’t come to our assistance, this plan has a fair shot at getting us inside undetected.”

  “We need to prioritize our objectives,” said Val, “and I think the first order of business is to find any pockets of resistance so we can make a coordinated assault.”

  Summers shook his head. “That’s a waste. We should focus on Brenner. Everyone in Headquarters will catch on once we’re disrupting him.”

  “We can have it both ways,” I said. “One group searches for allies while working on some kind of distraction. An explosion, maybe? Or triggering some kind of alarm? The other group takes a position near the center of action and waits to take advantage.”

  “Yes. Good.” Constantine’s eyes were bright. “The first group should be large, to firmly draw Brenner’s attention to our target.”

  “But if the library has a metal detector, how will we smuggle in an explosive?” Summers’s voice was tight with frustration.

  “I have a small amount of C-4 on me,” said Foster, unzipping one of the many pouches in her black vest and withdrawing a golf ball-sized lump that looked as though it were Play-Doh and not plastique. “If we hide the blasting cap on a key chain, we should make it through without any trouble.”

  “What if we target the hospital wing?” said Val. “Full of valuable equipment and medications.” She leaned into me, her next words so soft the others didn’t hear. “Besides, I hate that place. Dinging it up a bit will feel cathartic.”

  I stroked her face, anchoring myself against my own rush of memories featuring the Consortium’s hospital wing: barging into the exam room where Val had first learned she was a vampire; falling into unconsciousness as my blood mingled with Sebastian’s in a desperate attempt to synthesize a cure for Brenner’s plague; imagining Valentine pale and inert, unable to protest as a stranger’s blood dripped into her veins.

  She was right. Setting off an explosion there would feel very good, indeed.

  *

  The Kips Bay branch of the New York Public Library looked moderately crowded when Val and I entered an hour later. I fought my Midwestern impulse to smile at the man seated behind the circulation desk. If I did, I would stand out, and it was crucial that no one take special notice of me. As the “most innocuous looking” of the group, according to Summers, I had been chosen to carry the sphere of C-4. The detonator was tucked into a gaudy Statue of Liberty keychain I’d picked up at a nearby tourist shop.

  We were the second pair to walk through the library doors, ten minutes behind Foster and Summers. We bypassed the elevator and turned into the stairwell. The first subterranean level was open to the public, but a chain link across the next flight proclaimed subsequent levels to be for employees only.

  Val stepped over the chain and held out her hand. I laced our fingers together, not because I needed assistance, but because I needed so badly to feel her skin against mine. She had drunk from me again before we left Headquarters, and my body ached for fulfillment. The unabated hunger in her eyes was proof that she shared my need.

  We had no time for indulgence, but I refused to leave our mutual desire unacknowledged. Now more than ever, we had to be open and honest with each other. When she would have continued on, I stopped her by threading my arms around her neck and pulling her head down for a long, slow kiss.

  “I know what you crave,” I murmured against her lips. “And I want your touch so badly. When this is over, we’ll find the time. I promise.”

  Val’s body shuddered. Sensing her frayed control, my panther paced restlessly behind my eyes—not out of fear, but anticipation. She too wanted what only Valentine could give us, and the craving put her on edge.

  “We’d better keep moving.” Val’s voice was rough with arousal. “In another minute, I won’t be responsible for my own actions.”

  I nipped at her chin as I reluctantly pulled away. Her sharp intake of breath would have made me smile on any other day. I took the lead as we continued along the stairs past a door leading to “Storage” and
down another flight. The door to the lowest level was propped open, just as Summers and Foster had promised. As I ducked inside, I briefly wondered who had disabled the alarm.

  My eyes adjusted almost instantly. A large boiler took up half the room, its internal machinery clanking.

  “Here.” Foster’s call would have been inaudible to human ears. We joined them in a small alcove directly opposite the door, where they had already moved a set of shelves blocking the far wall. The outline of a small door was visible through a layer of dust and cobwebs.

  Summers fit a small key into the rusty lock. He had to jimmy it a few times before the bolt slid back, and at first, the door wouldn’t budge. Val and I jumped in to set our shoulders to the warped wood, and at our second push, it swung inward. I was about to step into the passageway when I caught the familiar cadence of Constantine’s footsteps from behind us as he brought up the rear of our group.

  “Good timing,” said Foster. “Let’s get in there and cover our tracks.”

  The corridor ahead was pitch-black, and I gratefully accepted the headlamp Summers produced from his backpack. In feline form I could have relied on scent and touch to guide my way, but I didn’t want to shift until it was absolutely necessary. Before locking the door, we laboriously moved the shelf back to its original position. Foster took point and I followed her, Val trailing behind me.

  Aside from cobwebs and the occasional rat sighting, the tunnel was clear. Its gradual downward slope finally culminated in a rough stone wall, to which had been fixed a ladder leading to a circular trap door. Once everyone had gathered at the base of the ladder, Val took it upon herself to climb up. She stood poised at the top, one arm partially extended.

  “Ready?”

  I settled my pack more firmly on my shoulders and grasped the ladder rungs with both hands, wanting to be directly behind her when she emerged into the arena. As she pushed, the metal groaned and shivered. When she brought her other arm into play, the door finally popped open, hinges creaking. A shower of dirt rained down on us, and I shielded my eyes while holding my breath. Val was coughing so hard I feared she might fall, but when I risked a glance upward, her feet were just disappearing over the edge.

  “No guards up top,” she choked out.

  Normally, several vampires were stationed along the catwalk just beneath the roof of the arena, their guns loaded with tranquilizer darts in case one Were decided to attack another. With Headquarters under siege their absence was unsurprising, but the fact that Brenner hadn’t replaced them with his own soldiers was an encouraging sign. Our plan just might work.

  Suddenly, the echoes of a menacing growl filtered down into the tunnel. Whether the beast was one of our own or one of Brenner’s, it was likely to see Valentine as its next meal. Mustering every ounce of speed, I scrambled up the ladder and boosted myself over the edge. Several feet away, Val was crouched low, staring down the largest lion I’d ever seen. His red-gold mane framed a snarling face and his tawny body was on the verge of a pounce.

  “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!”

  Chapter Six

  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 gro
wing 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.