Hellbender (The Fangborn Series Book 3) (12 page)

BOOK: Hellbender (The Fangborn Series Book 3)
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Carolina—“Leena” to those very few who knew her well—was only in her early fifties and already a one-name celebrity, but one who most certainly didn’t crave the spotlight. There was a great deal of mystery and mystique around this woman, with her trademark flaming red hair, alabaster, almost translucent skin, and rectangular glasses, so much mystique that I was surprised to see how petite she was, no taller than me, and chicly thin. Asked yesterday, I would have said I had as much chance of meeting Carolina as I did meeting the queen of England.

She had the eyes and ears of billions of people and her Rolodex might be the envy of the NSA. Industrialists craved her attention and fortune and feared them. With ten houses and a fleet of personal jets, she had a net worth that was conservatively estimated to be equal to the GNP of a not-so-small country—much bigger than Belize, but smaller, probably, than Jamaica. While her own fortune was rooted in real estate and industry, she married into communications. Information gathering was now something of a passion of hers. That marriage was short and tragic, and after the death of her husband, her army of lawyers made certain that the children of his first wife never saw anything like the fortune they should have received. So now Carolina had newspapers and television stations and satellites of her very own. She hired people to create a compelling image for her.

Recently, she had been developing an interest in politics, which was reciprocated eagerly. In an age where airtime means elections, there was no part of Carolina’s wealth and influence that was not attractive. Websites were devoted to demonizing her as a modern-day robber baron or praising her as a model of the American dream.

A temporary office had been set up; this place had to be an Order facility. I knew most of Carolina’s office real estate was back east. She glanced up, her eyes flicking over me. She seemed disappointed in what she saw, and I couldn’t blame her.

Though the stuff she’d doped me with was strong and new to me, I was feeling better than before. Okay, maybe I’d find out something by letting her think I was weaker than I was.

“It’s as simple as this,” she said, making no introductions. “You’re useful to me, for a while. You creatures quite possibly represent the next step in evolution. Even if the rest of us have to wait for ten thousand, fifty thousand years before we see any new physical, evolutionary developments, what your powers represent is certainly the next renaissance. What we apply from studying you to medicine, technology, exploration will be the heart of that renaissance. Sebastian Porter was making tremendous strides when he was killed.

“Even if we only use observation and testing, we’ll gain in one year the same amount of ground we’ve covered in the past thousand. Imagine what we can do with vivisection.” She smiled. “Cooperation would be more efficient, of course.”

It made sense now. “You’re part of the Order.”

“I funded Porter’s research; I’m the financial foundation of the Order. And with his death, I’m seeing a vacuum, so I’m stepping into his place. For my investment, I have in my hands the chance to control that next leap, to make sure that it benefits the right people.”

“You and your friends.”

“I mean, our country and her allies. And yes, it would be disingenuous if I said I didn’t think I’d be able to make a fair bit of money off the process, too.” She paused, then gave into curiosity. “I was on my way back from LA when I got the call you’d been captured. I had to see you for myself. People like you . . . Do you even know what you are?”

“A woman. An American. An archaeologist. A werewolf and Fangborn. Not always in that order.”

“You’re a threat. If you’re the next evolutionary step, then you’re gunning for
Homo sapiens sapiens
.”

Look at La Leena, busting out the Latin and anthropology, however misinformed. “That’s simply not true.”

“If you are a mutant strain of humanity, you threaten to overrun us, like kudzu. And if you’re not human, you’re a threat.”

“Where’s the logic to that?” I said. “We’ve been here forever, unseen and contributing to society.” It was very important I watch my words now. “Sacrificing ourselves for it.”

“And what happened at Boston? Was that contributing to society?”

“It was. We were asked to help with a situation that was directed at us and threatened the general population.”

“Humans were killed,” she said. “Because of you.”

“On both sides. And don’t forget: Porter and the Order started it. We were—are—trying to protect ourselves. And for the record, we consider ourselves human.” I had no idea if that’s how most Fangborn thought, but I knew I sure thought of myself as human.

“I have no interest in what you think. I’m interested in the threat you people pose, and I mean to mitigate it.”

I’ve been “you people” to a lot of folks through my life, and it is possibly my least favorite insult. It dismisses with no discretion, it lumps, it ignores, it diminishes.

I bit my tongue and kept my cool. I had to find a way out of this. “What threat?”

I felt her annoyance like a slap. “You know the stories; you yourself have
made
the stories. Murder, breaking and entering, theft, in your case alone. You killed Sebastian Porter.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” My friend Toshi had in fact killed Porter, but I could have, just as easily. I of course knew what she meant, but she wasn’t the police and she wasn’t a jury. More than that, I reminded myself: Even now, even with me drugged and cuffed, she wasn’t the boss of me.

“I have proof on every aspect of Fangborn life. I intend to reveal it.”

“You can’t! It would be catastrophic.” I began to worry. She was the one behind the missing Fangborn and Normals in Boston. She had been in on the plan to set the Fellborn loose on Boston and blame their carnage on the Fangborn.

“All evolution, all revolution is ultimately catastrophic. It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m the one controlling it. And it seems I am. Things are moving apace, Ms. Miller, and I’ll need you only long enough to finalize my own plans. In the end, shortly, you’ll be irrelevant.” She turned back to her keyboard. A door opened, Ms. Halle and another guard entered, and I was escorted back down the hallway. Carolina was done.

“Time for another shot,” Halle announced. Her exquisite model’s face was gleeful, and I realized, that’s why she was here. She was a sadist.

“Shot?” her colleague said. “Jesus, Penny, you said nothing about another dose.”

“We need that. This one—” She tripped me, let me fall on my face, and then hauled me back up. I thought about busting loose and going to town on her, but I wanted to hear this conversation. “She’s a priority. Keep her alive, keep her locked up, but give her the injections.”

“The prep suites and cells are full since we started the major push,” the other guard said. “This place was never made to hold this many . . . subjects. And we’re not going to get another delivery of the serum until later today.” The other guard was visibly nervous; the idea of failing Carolina scared him.

I could make that work for me, I thought woozily. I tried to summon up some vampiric influence. “You should just let me go. Anything you do should be about setting me free.”

“Jesus, will you ever stop!” Halle slammed me into a wall. The blood flowed freely from my head. My healing was slowed. I felt three hard punches to my stomach. She pulled out a small canister, and I braced myself for pepper spray.

Instead, I felt my muzzy-headedness return threefold. Again, there was no smell of black hellebore—just the same strong reaction as to the mist that was sprayed by the helicopter.

“I love this stuff,” Halle said. “Gonna be available at every corner store, come the day. Better living through chemistry.”

“What is it?”

“Some new stuff from R and D,” she said, dragging me along. “Labs were going mental when her nibs came back from London. Some old book sale she found had her creaming her panties.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that.”

“Why? You gonna tell on me? Anyway, it’s stronger than the old stuff, much more efficient, and even better when it’s injected. We can just use the aerosol until the new doses arrive.”

“Fine, but where are we going to put her? We can’t just leave her out here, and we’re beyond capacity.”

“I have a plan, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” she said to the other guard. When we entered an elevator, Penny Halle opened a panel and typed in a code. She shut the door with a smirk.

“Jesus, Penny, we can’t do that. We have to keep her safe. That thing in there . . . Do you know how many men he put in the hospital?”

“I know he’s making my life even harder with a staffing shortage, and I’m gonna give him some eggs for that.” She patted a billy club on her hip. “We’ll dope ’em both up, make everyone’s life easier.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” she mocked. “It’s all on me.”

I could smell the wrongness of one of the Fellborn before the door opened. My heart shriveled with fear. Helpless against one of those unthinking killing machines . . . It had been very bad, fighting them in Boston.

I heard a growl, and a snarl, then a hiss and a thud. Halle had gassed the other occupant of the room. It was pepper spray, though; he wasn’t Fangborn, of course. More thuds followed, and I assumed that the “eggs” she’d promised the Fellborn for making her life difficult were being administered.

Footsteps, and she grabbed my arm. Not content with the beating she’d just administered to me, Halle and the other guard picked me up and threw me to the floor. I turned my head to avoid eating cement and losing my teeth but still felt a couple of layers of skin rubbed from my face as they were left on the dirty floor.

They were going to leave me here, defenseless against the Fellborn.

The door clanged shut and I struggled to get up.

Far on the other side of the holding area was movement. The smell grew stronger, and I strained to make my body work. My head ached inside and out, and whatever that stuff was they gave me kept me from healing, kept me from being able to Change, kept me from being able to defend myself. I couldn’t shift my bonds, and just sitting up cost me a lot of pain.

Soft padding across the dimly lit room. I could hear the claws
tack-tack-tack
ing on the floor, in that peculiar half-upright gait of the Fellborn. In a moment, he’d be tearing into me.

I couldn’t quite bring myself to close my eyes. That would come soon enough. I turned my head away.

The steps paused about ten feet away from me. I could practically feel its muscles tensing, bunching up, preparing to pounce on me.

A wheezing cough came. Gasping breaths, and clearing of a rough throat. Lots of phlegm.

“So, kid. What are you in for?

Chapter Nine

If I’d had any more screams left in me, I would have used them then. That thing had just
talked
to me?

I must be hallucinating. That happened sometimes, like when—

“Hey! Cat got your tongue? I said, how’d they get you?”

Growling, rasping, like a four-pack-a-day habit, but unmistakably human speech. The pain I was in was enough to convince me that I was conscious; the hallucination made it clear I was still suffering the effect of the aerosol.

“Got caught trying to impersonate a wolf,” I said, playing along.

“Sweet. Nice to know I’m not locked up with a killer or anything.”

“Well, I’ve done that, too.”

“Shit. Well, don’t try anything with me. You’re not in any shape, by the look of you, and while I’m not at my best, either, I could cross some ethical boundaries of my own.”

“Um, okay.” I tried the obvious. “You’re really talking to me, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m an elaborate hand puppet and Miss Penny out there is a really good ventriloquist. Of course I’m—say. What do you mean? You seem surprised.”

“Well, yeah. Last time I met something—someone like you, it attacked me. Actually, every time I’ve met something like you, it’s been a fight to the death.”

“Jeez, you must have some serious temper.”

“No, I mean it was coming after me. Relentlessly, powerfully, lethally.” It dawned on me. Must be the drugs slowing me down.

“Yeah, kid, I’m just teasing you. Tell me there are no more like me out there, could you? You know, good looking, thoughtful, capable of speech.”

“Trust me when I tell you: I’ve never seen anything like you. You’re different. You can talk, you’re not . . . vicious.”

A short barking laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. They said I was slated to be the next model, Mark Three. They kept more brains and this time, unfortunately, got more ethics as well.” He coughed again. “First time I’ve disappointed someone for being smart. When they found out I’m not one of those hyped-up, meth-head wolf wannabes, that I was protesting what they told me to do, they chucked me in here.”

“Maybe you could do something about these ropes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The creature stepped closer, and I could see him now—upright, bipedal, same gray skin as the Fellborn, but his skin was less baggy and his lupine face had far more humanity than theirs. A tightening, briefly, a pinch where claws caught my flesh, and then my arms fell uselessly to my sides, limp with lack of proper circulation. “Thanks.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You know that’s the first time I’ve found something useful about this form. I ought to thank you.”

It occurred to me that I was thinking of
it
as a
him
. “What’s your name?”

“Max.”

“I’m Zoe.”

He sniffed the air, a rough, wuffing sort of noise. “Zoe, I have two important questions for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re Fangborn of some sort, aren’t you? An oracle, maybe?”

That took me by surprise, but it shouldn’t have. Of course he knew about the Fangborn. “Werewolf. With some . . . alterations.”

That struck a chord with him. “Your ‘alterations’ come from
them
?” He jerked his head toward the door.

“No. Mine are . . . complicated. I was trying to find out more about them when I ended up here.” I remembered my manners. “And you?”

“Oh, a human. Born and bred,” he said, with another one of those hoarse laughs. “I was with the TRG. Just a security guard, but I saw some stuff. When the organization was dissolved, I had a friend who said I could come along with him, get a job with the Order. I didn’t like what I saw, but it was too late, and when I tried to bail, they said I would be the next guinea pig. But let’s face it, Zoe, you gotta use the past tense. Whatever I once was, this is what I am now.”

The desolation of his voice was so great, I felt as if I were looking over an open grave. “Maybe not. Maybe there’s a way to reverse it.”

I knew it was stupid as soon as I’d said it. The report on the fragmented information we’d taken from the lab we’d raided in Istanbul had told us there didn’t seem to be any way to reverse or undo the effects. And now Porter, the man behind it all, was dead, and all his secrets with him.

“What’s your other question?” I asked when the pause between us grew too uncomfortable.

“I would give ten years of my life for a cigarette. You don’t smoke, do you?”

I almost laughed at the pathetic look in his eyes but remembered how hard it had been for Sean to quit. “No. Sorry.”

“I should have known. They wouldn’t let you keep them anyway.” Max stood up and dusted himself off. It was surprising to see such a human gesture from the sort of—well, I couldn’t well call Max a Fellborn—a creature I’d thought of as a mindless, wanton killer.

“Well, there’s only one thing for it,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“You and me are going to bust out of here, soon as you can walk and fight.”

I looked around; I wouldn’t tell him that it wouldn’t take long for me to be up. Not yet, anyway. “The door is steel, locked, and I assume, guarded by assholes with clubs, some kind of amped-up gas that works miracles against me.
Lots
of guns. There is one window that I can see, and that’s barred. And whatever shit they injected into me earlier is still really fucking with my head.”

He loped over and tried the window. “It’s barred, but it feels like there’s a little movement to it. I think with the two of us, we might be able to pull it off.”

I raised myself up cautiously, feeling like someone had dropped an ax between my eyes. My legs weren’t all that cooperative, but I hobbled over. When I saw what he was talking about, I knew my new friend believed in fairy tales.

“You’re crazy. Even if we could move the grate, we’d never fit through it. It’s what, like a foot square? And just how high up are we, anyway?”

“I figure four stories. So . . .”

“So not necessarily fatal. Possibly just massively and painfully maiming.”

“Yeah, okay. But there’s still a way to use it.”

“I’m listening.”

“Take off your pants.”

My horror returned, only to be replaced by doubt as he told me his plan.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Hey, anybody out there?”

“Shut up in there!”

“Hey, if you’re going to keep me in here, you might give me something to eat. Or a bucket to pee in or something.”

“I said shut up! I’m warning you!”

“And a blanket! It’s fucking cold in here, what with the window open and all.”

“What?”

“Ever since that hairy monstrosity jumped out the window—”

“Bullshit.”

But then I heard scratches at the door and knew Halle’d got the keys out. I braced myself, knowing what would come next.

I wasn’t wrong. The first thing that happened when the door opened was that when I tried to grab her, I got a jolt of Taser. “That’s for being a pain in the ass. Again. You’ll get worse when I find out you’re—”

I fell, but as we’d hoped, Halle’s eyes were drawn to the open window. Blood was spattered around the floor. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough to slow her reflexes when Max stepped from around the door.

Max grabbed her by the back of the neck, claws extended. He ripped down and it was like a class introduction to the musculature and bones of the back. Her head lolled around, not quite detached, as the rest of her body collapsed. The weapon fell with a clatter.

He picked it up, hefted it. “Can you walk?”

“Yes. Get her keys, her cards—”

“I’m on it.” He rifled the corpse’s pockets and then scooped me up with his other arm, helping me walk.

Up close, it was strange. I didn’t have the urge to attack him, nor he me, apparently. I’d never been so close to one of his kind without being in fear for my life. Fangborn were drawn to their evil scent, synthesized by the Order to lure us in.

Instead, Max smelled like a wet dog had rolled around in salami, as well as the metallic smell of the blood he’d drawn from his body to create the illusion that he’d forced himself out the window. My eyes were watering, but to be fair, I was pretty sure I didn’t smell like lilacs, either. Captivity hadn’t been kind to either of us, and our joint exertions in removing the bars—my rust-stained scrubs gave us a little extra grip and leverage—hadn’t helped.

We didn’t meet any resistance, but we weren’t convinced our luck would hold. Eventually, my strength came back, and I was able to keep up with Max’s pace. It was like moving out of a fog, my vision clearing, my brain working better with each step.

A little opposition came up suddenly, and we took care of them swiftly. So far, we’d managed to avoid raising a wider alarm.

Max paused outside one door. “Hang on a sec.”

“We don’t have time for this!” I hissed.

“They had me in here when I came in. They took my phone. I need it back.”

“Your phone?” I shook my head incredulously. “They’ll have destroyed it, long ago.”

“Yeah, but not before I made a copy of it. Trust me. You’re going to want it, Zoe.”

Well, he’d gotten me this far.

The late Penny Halle’s magnetic card worked and the doorknob turned easily enough, so I didn’t have much hope he’d find what he was looking for. I gave Max a look, but he dodged in. After a minute’s cursing under my breath and pacing, I slipped in after him.

He’d hidden his copy of his phone on a DVD of security records. A duplicate with a date in different ink.

“Ha! Knew they wouldn’t check their own files!” He looked around, patted himself. “It has pics I took of their operation here and a copy of their files for this facility. Just a little taste of how they’ve been kidnapping people—Normals and Fangborn—and experimenting on them.” He paused. “Uh . . . I seem to have lost my pockets. Help a brother out, Zoe?”

I would have stopped to marvel if we had time: I had the Order’s undoing in my hands. I found my pack and sword tossed carelessly onto a shelf until it could be examined. I stashed the DVD away in my bag.

“Wait!” I said, remembering. “There are other people here!”

“Zoe, like you said, we haven’t got much time, and if we go looking for them, we’ll raise the alarm faster!”

“I can’t go without trying! Where would they be kept?”

“They could be anywhere, but most of the regular holding areas are down the hall.”

“Two minutes,” I said. “That’s all we’ll need.”

Max fum-fuhhed before relenting and then grabbed a handful of key cards. “One minute.”

We tore down the hall. Max stayed behind the door so as not to startle anyone while I opened it. “We’re busting out of here,” I yelled, and tossed key cards to the three startled inmates. “Take these; let anyone out you can find! Run fast, and be quiet!”

I repeated the process twice more before Max finally insisted we leave. The alarm would be raised at any moment.

We left the building, following the routes Max knew would keep us out of sight. We hit the door and ran for cover. I still had a killer headache, thanks to that guard’s blast, but all I had to do was remember Jacob Buell torturing me and what my prize would do to people like him. The mere thought of it gave me wings.

Max seemed to recover, too; he’d had no fun being cooped up. It occurred to me: The Fangborn couldn’t be the only enemies the Order had.

We were almost to the gate, and I began to let myself believe we might get out without an incident. A car was pulling up and presented the perfect opportunity to get out without having to find a weaker spot in the high walls.

Max stopped entirely, as if he’d run into an invisible wall. I grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a parked car before anyone could see us. We were so close . . .

“What’s wrong with you?” I whispered. “This is our chance. As soon as the gates open—”

“That’s . . . my car,” he said. “My friend, the one who got me the job, is driving. Bastard never even tried to spring me, never tried to stop them. I’ll kill him,” he growled. He made as if to stand, and I yanked him down.

“No, we can’t risk that now. I know what it feels like when you think you’ve been betrayed. But we’ve got to get out of here.”

He opened his mouth to disagree and I hurried on. “This is a chance here. We gotta go. Okay, Max?”

His hesitation was too long. “Okay?” I repeated.

He nodded, and I shook his arm. “Okay, then. When the gate opens, we’re going to . . .”

I filled him in on the rest of the plan as we sneaked closer to the gate.

“It’s too risky,” he said. Good, at least his mind was back on the immediate business of getting away. “Why won’t they just—”

“Because as soon as we’re clear, their way will be blocked, and once we make the tree line, we’ll be closer to the public and have a better chance to escape.” I didn’t want to tell him I might be able to blast the guard shack, because I didn’t want to get his hopes up.

He shook his head but got ready. “Don’t know what the public will make of me.”

“Doesn’t matter now. Count of three, we go.”

The guard went back into the booth. The “friend” rolled up his window.

I didn’t have a chance to say “Three!” Alarms began to wail. The facility would be kicking into overdrive any moment.

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