Everafter Series 2 - Nevermore (17 page)

“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 my 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.

The cool, dry breeze raised gooseflesh on my naked skin, but I didn’t shiver. Curling a stray lock of hair behind one ear, I ran one hand over the slight curve of my stomach. Not a mark marred its smooth surface. The healing power of the change never stopped being miraculous.

I looked over at Constantine and saw his form, too, beginning to blur. As the transformation took him, I walked toward Delacourte’s motionless body and crouched to lay a hand on his huge head.

“You saved our lives twice tonight,” I said. “Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same.” Hearing Constantine’s footfalls behind me, I rose to face him, unperturbed by my nakedness. “What now?”

He stared at Delacourte for a long moment before answering. “There is a Consortium safe house in Marrakech, a day’s run to the southwest. If we press hard.”

I stalked past Katya’s mangled corpse, barely resisting the urge to spit. Beyond, the ascending moon still pulled at my blood, her call all the more enticing for not being an imperative.

“Then let us press hard,” I said. And breaking into a run, I called my panther forth.

*

Under cover of night, we slunk from shadow to shadow before settling down to lie in wait in an alley near a busy discotheque. When two drunken tourists stumbled out of the establishment and past the mouth of our hiding place, we brought them down silently and dragged them out of sight. They were both men, and even the smaller one’s clothing was several sizes too large for me, but I made do. The clothing would grant us safe passage farther into the city, where the streets were brightly lit and more heavily trafficked.

“What are you looking for?” I asked Constantine as he paused to peer down two consecutive side streets off one of the main thoroughfares. Hiking up my stolen pants for what felt like the thousandth time in the past half hour, I hoped he would find the safe house soon. My toes were banging painfully against the fronts of my too-large sneakers, and I could already feel the blisters forming. Then again, blisters were far better than being the captive of Balthasar Brenner.

“I have only been here once,” Constantine said testily, as though he had heard my unvoiced complaint. “Be patient.”

Thankfully, he paused five minutes later at the mouth of a narrow winding street, and I followed him for several blocks until we stood in front of a shabby hotel. Its shingle bore the faded emblem of a growling lion, and I thought of Malcolm. Was it folly to believe that we might be safe now? That I might see Val soon—perhaps only in a matter of days?

Constantine knocked five times on the door, and a few moments later, I sensed someone peering out at us through the keyhole. When the door was flung open, my panther flinched in alarm.

The curly-haired boy who greeted us was barely an adolescent—certainly not someone to whom I would have entrusted the keeping of an important outpost. “The rumor is true!” he exclaimed, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You’ve escaped!”

Constantine stepped inside, and I followed him quickly. The short foyer spilled into a comfortable sitting room, and I had the insane desire to kick off my borrowed shoes and bury my toes in the plush carpeting.

“I’m fine,” Constantine was saying. “Where is your father, Jasper? And the others?”

“Everyone was deployed to Sybaris four days ago,” Jasper said, staring wide-eyed between the two of us.

Constantine frowned. “Why? What happened?”