The Lycan Society (The Flux Age Book 1) (11 page)

Oskar and Sabine watched the stately Berlin skyline as the jet descended into a grey, cold German morning. Within minutes the terminal at Schonefeld airport beckoned.

Herr X told Tomas to be ready at 1400 hours before disappearing through a transit tube. Tomas gathered his family and negotiated customs.

Berlin, Germany

The Hotel Brandenburg was wonderfully elegant. Vanya and the children squealed with delight as they trod the marble foyer. Their rooms were close to the top floor and commanded an excellent view of the east bank of the Spree.

A knock on the door signaled the punctual arrival of their babysitter Hilda, a Frau often utilized by the hotel. Once Tomas had settled the children with Hilda, he took his wife to the Mitte district and enjoyed baumkuchen and coffee at a cosy university cafe.

Tomas tried to take his mind off his impending meeting with Herr X by pretending he was dating Vanya for the first time. The couple indulged themselves, snickering from the corner table like undergraduates.

It was liberating to spend some quality some with his wife. Between work and the children they rarely got a moment to themselves. Despite this, Tomas knew their bond was unshakable, as deep as it ever was. Vanya was the rock that he would always cling to.

He looked into her eyes as she spooned the last of the custard into her mouth.

“I forgive you,” she said quietly.

Tomas frowned. “For what?”

Vanya’s face softened as she looked away. “For what you’re about to do,” she said.

Tomas let go of Vanya’s hand. His wife was no fool. She had an inkling of what sat heavily on his soul. Her unconditional show of support bought a tear to his eye. He wiped it away quickly. He hadn’t cried since … well, since childhood.

Their mood turned gloomy, Tomas took Vanya back to the hotel where they played with the kids. Vanya was visibly anxious, checking her watch every few minutes.

At 1400 hours there was a firm knock on the door. A bud of intense dread flowered in Tomas’s gut as he hugged Vanya fiercely.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said uncertainly. “I promise.”

Vlado stood outside with one of his underlings. His pockmarked grin was infuriatingly arrogant. Tomas stepped into the hallway and nodded at the thugs to lead on.

The walk through downtown Berlin was almost unbearably tense.

Hands in pockets as if they were heading to a Saturday afternoon football game, the thugs kept a brisk pace down Rathaustrasse, past the Museum Gardens and northwest on Spandauer Street. The grey sky was closing in on the city, seeking to engulf it in never ending purgatory.

The passersby emerged from the fog like aimless specters. Night would fall early on Berlin town.

Vlado stopped underneath the avenue of international flags outside the Grand Ferdinand Hotel. Where Tomas’ hotel was steeped in modern elegance, this palatial hotel had the air of the old empire.

The German thugs ushered Tomas through a high-ceilinged foyer straight from the turn of the 20th century, filled with huge marble pillars and sunken lounges where one could drink whisky, enjoy a cigar and read
Der Tagesspiegel
. In summer those long fans near the ceiling were probably the only temperature control. Tomas told himself
that
was the reason he felt a pronounced chill as he followed the men behind a beautifully designed oak partition.

Vlado had nodded at every passing guest and hotel bellboy. Herr X had probably booked out the entire foyer for this little exercise. The thought intimidated Tomas.

Cold sweat dripping down his back, the scientist was drawn into a stately alcove where two antique German sofas had been arranged opposite each other. Herr X sat calmly at one, gesturing to the other as if inviting Tomas for a fireside chat.

The scientist took the seat, not relishing it’s hardness. Vlado and his goons took up discreet positions throughout the grand foyer. Tomas felt as though the bustle of normal life had been frozen so this meeting could occur.

The German regarded Tomas with a thin smile. “Enjoying your accommodation, Doktor?” he asked.

Tomas winced. Small talk was the last thing he felt like trading.

“Can we get on with this please?” he asked, stumbling over his words. He’d never spoken to Herr X in such a tone, but something about this old world hotel made his skin crawl.

Herr X simply nodded, as if conceding that Tomas had every right to be nervous.

“During our last conversation I revealed my interest in history,” he began. “Particularly where my family line is concerned.”

Tomas swallowed. Coming to Berlin suddenly seemed like a very bad idea.

“My father was a senior commander of the High Luftwaffe,” the German went on. “He retired towards the end of World War II. A devoted family man, he gathered his extended family in Dresden in the hope of seeing out the war. His intelligence contacts alerted him to the presence of an underground lycan network in the city.”

The billionaires’ eyes turned into cold marbles.

“A member of the Berlin Club, my father had been skirmishing with lycans for years. But with the Allies turning the tide of the war, my father saw an opportunity to forge a lasting alliance with the creatures. End the violence and defend the Fatherland together. Instead, the lycans betrayed my father and met with British spies who hastily organized a bombing raid.”

Herr X gripped his cane so tightly Tomas thought it would snap. His face had gone deathly pale with long simmering fury.

“Forty-seven members of my family were burned alive during the bombing of Dresden. An entire dynasty, snuffed out in one night. Women. Children. The lycans had provided their exact location.”

The German’s cane toppled to the floor, where it clattered loudly in the tense silence. Tomas seemed to be the single focus of the man’s tortured story.

“I just happened to be at a hospital that night with a dose of measles. I was then raised by a family connected to the Berlin Club. All my life I have worked tirelessly for this moment. You, Dr. Verdano, can call it the first payment in a long-standing blood debt.”

Herr X turned to no one in particular. “Bring her in.”

Tomas swayed in his chair, the shirt under his jacket drenched in sweat. Right then he regretted ever agreeing to work for this hideous man, wondering just how far into the mire he had sunk.

The clip of high heels resonated across the foyer. The sound beat a steady rhythm, feeding Tomas’ fear as it got louder. Finally a girl was dragged across the faded carpet and made to sit next to Herr X.

Tomas was assailed with the smell of urine and vomit. The girl couldn’t be more than eighteen. She had long, dirty brown hair and a thin face lathered in Gothic makeup. Her dress glittered with scarlet sequins, as if she’d just come from some seedy nightclub. Ripped fishnet stockings completed an abject, forlorn figure.

The girl looked like a homeless whore and probably was. Her eyes darted round the foyer restlessly, her hands gripping the edge of the seat with terror.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Herr X said, his voice rising in intensity. “I know what you are, Tomas. Your blood work made it obvious. My friend here will make it official.”

With a light, almost casual wave of his hand, Herr X gestured to the strange, unsettling girl. Her fathomless bloodshot eyes regarded Tomas from behind a veil of soiled hair.

“
Vampyra
,” she muttered, pressing herself into the back of the chair as if buffeted by Tomas’s aura. “The Old Blood.”

Yes.

Tomas knew it. He had always known it. He immediately sensed a presence within him, someone who had been speaking to him for a long time.

His world became an archipelago of sounds. Herr X was chuckling softly. He sounded relieved more than anything else. A familiar shriek erupted from somewhere beneath the foyer. A detached, emotionless part of Tomas’ brain concluded that the chimera must have been transferred to Berlin, and was being housed here at the Grand Ferdinand Hotel.

The other sound Tomas noted as a red haze flowered on the edge of his vision was Vlado’s nasally voice.

“It’s ok,” the thug was saying, his voice brittle with fear. “He can’t turn yet. Vampires need a Queen to raise them.”

New York, USA

YASMIN FELT AT home underground. There were no windows in the Lycan base, far below the streets of Manhattan, but the confined space made her feel safe and secure. She got the impression that lycans didn’t always feel that way, and resented being forced to live underground.

Florence Underwood had been gone for an hour now, and Yasmin was entirely content to be left alone in her small room. She still couldn’t quite believe how her day had twisted and turned into …
this
. With a start she thought of Hugo. Her ex-boyfriend would be worried if she didn’t appear soon. That couldn’t be helped for now - her phone wouldn’t work down here.

Trying to relax, Yasmin lay on her bed and mentally traced the cracks in the ceiling.

The Lycan Society … it was all a surreal dream. Not only had she made contact, she’d been accepted into the fold and given a mission almost immediately. Alone in her room, the notion suddenly seemed ludicrous! Then she thought of Jack Foley and realized that he was probably the best thing about her day. She wasn’t sure where her feelings were headed but she found her thoughts drifting to him constantly. Was it just because he was the first lycan she’d met? Perhaps … and perhaps not. Whatever the case, she was glad he was coming with her to Berlin tomorrow.

Berlin
… the thought made her giddy with excitement. What would she find there? How much danger? Right now there were too many questions. She had no idea how she was expected to sleep in her current state of mind.

In the end she didn’t have to.

There was a knock at the door. “You’re good,” she said, making sure she was decent.

Jack Foley marched into the room. Yasmin got a whiff of a musky cologne. The smell excited her senses in a number of ways. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and dark jeans. The effect was casually sexy, no doubt about it. Especially when he attempted a self-conscious grin, a dimple opening on his left cheek. This man was dangerous.

“Thought you might need company,” he said in that stern way of his.

“Is that right?” Yasmin asked faux-innocently. “What do you suggest I do about the situation?”

“Come with me,” he said firmly. “I need to prowl.”

The way he said it was damned near irresistible. Yasmin sensed his animal side and felt a stirring deep within her body. A number of alarms went off in her mind, most of them advising against spending her first night with the lycans prowling New York with a maverick werewolf.

In the end, her heart won. It had been such a startling day, Yasmin figured she should just let the roller coaster take her where it may. Besides, Jack was a key member of the Society, a respected warrior. There was little chance he would let her come to any harm.
And
he had been the one to save her life. His blood literally flowed through her veins.

“Absolutely,” she found herself saying. “Just let me get changed.”

It was exhilarating to be lead through the huge ocean tunnel and up the ladder to the cobblestoned courtyard. Jack’s eyes were alive with the rush of escape. Yasmin felt more than a little guilty, almost like she was cutting school or something.

The pair emerged from the Korean dime store and into the neon-drenched New York night. Yasmin felt under dressed in her casual attire, but next to the rebellious Jack she didn’t care at all. Everything he did reeked of subversion - subversion of social mores, of modern laws and customs, even of his own pack. Yasmin was happy to be lead through streets electric with the excitement of the night. She hadn’t felt this primed for action in a long time. Certainly never with Hugo.

Their first destination was a converted warehouse in Tribeca. One of Jack’s friends was running an art installation there and hosting parties every night. Yasmin accepted a beer and watched scantily-clad artists walking through a large plastic cube. Occasionally they would bark words in various languages.

The installation had attracted quite a crowd. At one point the artist himself was introduced and feted with generous applause. Yasmin didn’t quite understand the installation but got caught up in the general excitement and passion of the scene. A number of artists introduced themselves to her. Jack seemed to know them all, talking freely and
almost
seeming relaxed. Yasmin had generated quite a buzz by the time Jack took her by the hand and asked if she was hungry. She realized she was ravenous.

Jack had a favorite late night restaurant in Chinatown. The proprietor greeted him warmly, guiding the pair to Jack’s usual table out back near the kitchen. Yasmin couldn’t help but laugh at the werewolf’s apparent ownership of the city. But then she realized that as a lycan he’d probably had many years,
centuries
, to build relationships.

Letting Jack reel off a series of dishes to the waiter, it occurred to Yasmin that they hadn’t really talked so far. He’d been a little aloof as they walked the city streets. He seemed comfortable with silence, a quality Yasmin appreciated. She’d never been much for small talk.