Silence of the Wolves (15 page)

Inching forward, she waited until they’d reached one of the gnarly wooden doors, leading to a room that was likely to be similar to the one she’d been kept in.

Both men were wearing full leather from top to bottom and hair shaved so short that she could barely make out the colour of the stuff.

Both were pale-skinned but, thankfully, their eyes were normal, not the soul-less black of the tomb she’d encountered earlier.

They looked like one another though, like soldiers that were made to look exactly the same. The only difference was their size; the man on the left was larger than the one on the right, neither looked to be in particularly fit shape though.

As the larger of the two men cracked the rickety wooden door and stepped inside, she crouched, gearing herself up to attack.

One by one was better than fighting the two of them at the same time. She launched herself at the remaining man, her body flying silently through the air, much further and faster than she’d been able to go in human form.

Her front paws hit the guy in the chest, sending him thrashing to the ground. He looked her in the eye as he fell; she watched those vicious brown eyes glaze over and turn black in a matter of seconds, and that terrified her more than any enemy, zombie or otherwise, could have.

Trying not to think about it, she sank her teeth into his throat faster than he had time to react, ripping his throat from his body. Not quite decapitation, but hopefully it would work just as well.

Blood ran down her throat, warm and fast, making her stomach rumble and her soul howl. She spat the flesh to the floor, her stomach turning at the thought of his innards touching her but relishing in the fight, the adrenaline, the hunt.

Whipping around, Tam threw herself into the room the second man had walked into. She could hear him breathing. His heart rate had sped up, suggesting he knew she was there.

She paused, scanning the room. There was a hint of death in the air, she could smell it clearly, but it wasn’t strong enough to know exactly where it was coming from. She waited in the dark for any sign of movement.

The tense moment seemed to stretch on forever until finally something glinted in the light thrown in from the open doorway; knives, and lots of them.

She heard the hiss of air against metal as the knife flew a split second before it was on her. She managed to dodge, but barely; the thing caught her leg, slicing its way through fur and hitting skin before clattering into the wall behind her. There was a thud as the next one hit the door.

Tam skidded out of the way and bolted in the direction the knives were coming from. She hauled herself around, claws scraping against the wet stone floor as she went, and launched herself at the shadow.

It caught her with a fist, cracking her in the jaw, making her yelp. She bit down on the hand that caught her, tearing through skin and hitting bone. Using the momentum of her fall, she twisted around, taking the fist with her, snapping his wrist.

As her paws hit the floor, she used the motion to launch herself back up towards the shadowed man’s head, clawing her way up his chest and biting down hard onto his collarbone.

The man howled and went down like a sack of bricks, hitting the floor with a crack. Tam wanted to move her death grip upwards to his throat, but she couldn’t move. The guy had pinned her legs to his torso in the fall to the floor. Bracing herself against him, not daring to let go, she tried to pull herself off but to no avail. The stench of blood and death hit her senses hard; she could taste the metallic warmth of blood on her tongue, mixed with the salty heat of sweat.

He was panting like a dog. Thankfully he appeared as worn out as she, but neither of them were giving up just yet. She was so close to his jugular, the means to end the fight, it was almost painful. But if she unhooked her teeth from his skin, even for a moment, he was going to break her. He’d clutched her two front paws between his arms, all he needed to do was snap them to the side and it would break her ribcage. She knew it. He knew it.

She shifted her weight a little and he flinched. Christ, he was as jumpy as she was. She slowly tightened her grip on his collarbone, allowing her canine to slide further into his flesh, scraping bone ever so slightly. He hissed at the pain of it, shifting his weight in an effort to move his body away from her mouth and she deliberately loosened her grip on him; just enough that he would think his subtle movements were working.

He moved his arm slightly in an effort to angle his body away from her further still. That was all she needed; slipping her paw free of him, she snapped her jaw open, leaving his collarbone torn and covered in blood.

In one swift, hard movement, she hefted her weight upwards, slashing awkwardly at his exposed neck, her canines catching skin and tearing it away as she went.

She felt it as she tore through his jugular; blood gushed steadily into her mouth, sliding down her throat. She tried to close herself to it, but it didn’t work, just made her choke.

The guy gargled against her. Using the last of his strength, he hefted her off, launching out with a fist in a final swing; he caught her in the side of the stomach.

Something hard pierced through her fur, shooting pain ricocheting throughout her entire body.

She was so consumed by the burning roar of the knife entering her body that she didn’t notice the guy heave his final breath. Didn’t care.

Leyth and Carl scoured the building, top to bottom, and still found nothing. The stairs Leyth had climbed earlier only went up and there were no other stairwells anywhere.

‘Sapphire and my team are ten minutes out.’ Carl put his phone back in his pocket. ‘They’re bringing in the big guns.’

‘Vamps?’

‘No. Minotaurs.’

‘Really?’ Leyth sent a prayer of thanks up to the Maker; at least Julian was taking this seriously.

Minotaurs were the biggest, baddest beasties around. The legends that told of giants were largely based on the Minotaurs’ human form; they were huge and built like a brick shit-house. Evolution had given them the ability to partially shift, which was otherwise unheard of. They could turn their entire body into that of the bull, but keep their bone structure as that of a human, giving them a formidable edge in battle.

‘Let’s keep looking for another way into the base,’ Carl suggested.

‘Good idea. I’m going to check the stairs once more. Maybe we missed something,’ Leyth said. Carl nodded as they made their way to the stairwell.

Opening the door, the space looked exactly as it had the last fifty times they’d checked it. Whitewashed walls, steel grey stairs leading only upwards. Leaning against the doorway, Leyth cursed.

‘We’re missing something,’ he said.

‘Hell yeah. But
what
?’ The two of them set about patting the walls down for hidden doors, feeling underneath each step for a trigger and toeing the floor for signs of a trap door. Nothing.

Leyth could barely contain the roar building up inside him; something was wrong.
Very wrong.
It wasn’t these rooms; it wasn’t the base they’d found. Something was wrong with Tamriel.

He could feel it like a twisting ball of terror in his gut. The sense of urgency rushing through his veins made him want to scream. Time was running out, he knew that much, but he didn’t know why or where he was supposed to go. Palming his dagger, he sent out a long line of curses, lobbing the thing at the far wall. He waited for the satisfying thud as the metal sank its way into the plaster, but it never came. It just went straight through the damn wall and disappeared. Handle and all. The wall seemed to ripple as contact was made, then re-solidified as the knife disappeared through it.

‘What—’

‘The hell?’ Carl finished for him, walking over and brushing a finger across the thing. Solid.

Leyth ran a hand the length of the wall; it was honestly as hard and impenetrable as any other wall he’d ever come across.

‘Your knife went straight through it,’ Carl said.

‘I know. I frigging saw it disappear.’ Leyth shook his head.

‘Shit, it didn’t even leave a mark.’ Carl fingered the section of the plaster that Leyth’s knife had entered.

‘This is a load of crap,’ Leyth spat, cursing himself for not knowing what to do. Anger got the better of him, and he roared, swinging a fist back and hurling it towards the wall. He braced himself for bone-shattering impact; even if he managed to break a hole in the damn thing, it would give them a chance to work out what was on the other side. His fist hit the plaster and the jolt of the hard surface ricocheted up his arm, jarring his shoulder, but it didn’t break.

The surface stayed as smooth as it had been before. Leyth’s fist, on the other hand, disappeared straight into the plaster, the tension of it giving way to nothingness. The surface rippled ever so slightly as his hand sunk in, but didn’t crack or break under the impact.

Whipping his arm out of the wall, Leyth studied his hand. It was completely intact, not bleeding nor bruised.

He looked at the wall; it looked exactly the same as it had been before, no cracks or dents, just a plain white plaster.

‘That is one damn good spell!’ Carl observed, running a hand over the wall, curling his palm into a fist.

He hesitated, then also punched his fist through, his hand disappearing as it slid through the stuff.

‘I’m going in,’ Leyth decided.

Tam had to be in there. He could feel it.

‘No,’ Carl snapped.

As Leyth turned around to argue, Carl spat out, ‘It’s a strong spell, Leyth. I very much doubt we’ll get signal on the other side and the team is on the way.’

‘I’m not waiting. Tamriel—’

‘Shit—’ the male swore, cutting him off. ‘I’m gonna call Sapphire and explain what’s doing, then we’ll go in together, OK?’

For the first time in a long while, Leyth stood back and truly looked at him; they’d been friends for years. He’d always thought Carl had it good; nice house, great female, good job.

Now he thought he was the lucky one.

Hell, he didn’t really have anywhere to live; he was crashing on the floor of Julian’s mansion. His female, the female
he
wanted, didn’t want him. Tamriel was so stupidly out of his league that surely it was pointless even trying.

His work? He hated the Council and their rules. But he was a lone wolf; he could up and leave at any point, go rogue in search for better lands.

Carl’s pasty skin and grey hair made him look old before his years; he had huge black rings under his eyes and no meat on his bones whatsoever.

The guy had once been one of the biggest shifters out there; without a doubt, he’d matched Leyth’s muscled size. Now he looked bony, tired, worn down by years of service. Carl didn’t have the option of going rogue, changing his life. He was well and truly stuck where he was without a hope in hell of escape. The Council would take anyone who tried to escape out, it was their way.

And Carl had a female to think about.

He was still completely selfless; focused on the job, working all hours of the day and night to keep everyone else’s life relatively easy. And he’d just told Leyth that he wanted kids, but work was too dangerous for him to feel comfortable doing that. And here he was, about to run into a suicide mission, just because all Leyth had a ‘feeling’. Because he couldn’t wait for back-up, and clearly Carl was too much of a good person to let Leyth go it alone. He really was a true male. No, more than that, a male of honour.

‘OK, ready. They’re only two minutes out, but by the time they get the gear out of the van and get the Minos inside unnoticed, it will be ten minutes at least,’ Carl said, sliding his phone into his back pocket.

Leyth nodded. ‘Listen, when this nightmare is over, I’m gonna get you out from underneath the Council. Hear me? Whatever it takes, I’m going to do it. You’ve more than done your time and hell, you need to go and do what you gotta do with your female.’ Leyth put his hand on his heart, ‘This I vow unto you.’

Carl just stared at him, mouth gaping, eyes wide open. A vow was never made lightly, not between wolves, hell, any shifters.

If a vow was broken, it was punishable by death according to the old laws; these were followed to the letter. An alpha’s rule was, first and foremost, run by the old laws. They came even before the Council.

‘Shit.’ Carl cleared his throat. ‘Thanks, my man.’ He cleared his throat again. Leyth clapped a hand on his back as the guy swiped at a stray tear.

‘I’ll second that!’ Dax’s voice thundered through Leyth’s skull.

‘Indeed, I shall do everything I can to help enforce that vow.’ Julian’s dark rumble followed Dax’s.

‘Thanks.’ Carl scrubbed a hand across his eyes, clearing his throat. ‘Shall we—Shall we do this?’ The shifter pulled himself together, snapping his gun out from its holster.

‘Yup, ready?’ Leyth pulled out his bolo and trained it on the wall.

‘Go get our girls.’ Julian’s voice boomed across the micro coms. ‘I’ll get a clean-up team and a medical team out to you as well.’

Carl looked over at Leyth and nodded, signalling for them to go. Moving together as one, the both of them launched their bodies at the wall with all their strength. Leyth used his bolo to break the tension, slicing downwards as the tip hit the ‘plaster’ and sending a shoulder through first. As his flesh hit the wall, the impact jarred his entire body, his shoulder hitting the hard surface and sinking into it. The entire wall bowed with the motion, the tension scraping its way across Leyth’s skin as he forced himself forward, his feet sliding on the concrete as he went. It felt as though he were forcing his way through mud, it was horribly sticky, and sapped at his strength.

Finally his shoulder broke through the wall and came out the other side. With a final push, his body forced its way past the tension and slid into the room, the sudden release making him slip, landing shoulder first on the cool concrete.

In a heartbeat, Leyth was on his feet, bolo poised for action, ready to go. Harsh white walls met him; the small space was completely empty, but for the steel metal stairs leading downward. Glancing down, his gaze was met with hard concrete, on which Carl was lying, gun trained on the stairs.

The two of them stood there, listening intently, eyes trained on the only entrance into the space.

Nothing. Silence.

Leyth barked out a laugh, and stuck a hand out to the shifter, who took it, hefting him off the floor.

‘That was—’

‘Interesting.’ Man, you’d think they were lovers with all this finishing each other’s sentences crap.

‘Christ, you could have told us where you were going!’ Jake’s spectral head popped out of the wall they’d just forced themselves through,

‘Yeah!’ Jones’s head followed through the wall quickly after. ‘All we saw were your feet disappearing into a solid wall!’

‘It’s a spell, a fake wall.’ Carl laughed as the two djinn slid their spectral selves through it with ease. Both of them solidified once they were on the other side, and started poking at the ‘fake wall’ with a finger.

‘Feels pretty solid to me!’

‘It’s not, trust me. Downstairs?’ Carl looked at Leyth, who nodded.

‘Christ, no rest for the wicked!’ Jake snapped, glancing between the two of them.

Leyth couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the djinn, motioning for the four of them to move forward and together they trained their weapons on the dipping staircase that led downwards… Silently they inched forward.

Climbing down the metal steps, it was an effort to keep their footfalls silent. They took them slow and steady, finally reaching the last step and coming out to a hallway similar to the one in which they’d just been. The door leading out was solid steel; thick as the brick wall it was set in, and locked.

Carl tugged at the thing. It didn’t budge.

‘Want me to check it out?’ Jones’s solid form wavered, rippling with an almost colourful light.

‘Can you go completely invisible?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Be careful.’ Carl nodded the guy in.

Jones’s solid form quickly faded, becoming spectral, then completely invisible.

Jake absently played with his hair as the three of them scanned the area, waiting for his brother’s return.

‘Guys,’ a voice hissed out of nowhere. Jones’s pale face reappeared next to the door, rapidly becoming solid once more.

‘There is a
shedload
of tombs in there, I’m talking like thirty,’ Jones explained, his face pale. ‘I didn’t go too far in, but they’re all acting relatively normal; some are sitting down watching telly by the looks of it, I think there are other rooms with a few in them. They definitely don’t know we’re here yet.’

‘Right.’ Carl said, eyeing the lock where the door met the jamb. ‘They will in a minute.’ He held his hand out. ‘Bolo.’

Leyth didn’t question the male’s judgement, just handed the knife over. Carl slid the blade of the knife carefully between the door and the wall; it slid through the gap nicely and he moved the metal from the top of the door jamb downwards until it hit the metal bolt with a clink, then repeated the motion from the bottom.

‘It’s only a one-point locking system, but it’s a heavy bolt. I’m going to heat your bolo up so we have a better chance of cutting through the metal, but it won’t last long, you’ve got to be quick with it.’

‘How are you going to do that?’ Leyth snorted. ‘With a lighter?’

‘Yup.’ The guy pulled a little yellow Clipper from his pocket.

‘You ready?’ Leyth moved into position next to the door, looking a bit stunned.

‘Hold your knife out. Steady.’

Leyth did as he was asked, and watched as Carl pulled the clip out of his gun and grabbed a few of the bullets. In one quick movement, he clipped the metal casing with one of his own knives. The bullet at the tip fell to the floor leaving only the cartridge full of gunpowder. That male was a frigging genius.

He tipped the gunpowder onto the end of the bolo and readied his own knife, flicking the lighter and bringing up a flame; he glanced at Leyth, who nodded. With that, he nicked the powder with the flame and, as it began to ignite, he lightly rested his own knife on top of the metal, containing the sparks to make it heat the blades more effectively.

As the crackle of exploding gunpowder died down, the two of them quickly got to work, slicing at the bolt with the heated metal in a sawing motion.

Carl’s smaller knife quickly became useless as the heat from the gunpowder rapidly melted the metal blade. Leyth’s bolo, on the other hand, held strong and steady; he’d never been so glad that it was reinforced with crystal, the stuff magically woven into the steel to make it more or less indestructible.

A point the knife proved nicely; the blade cutting through the metal bolt slowly but surely, leaving the blade, albeit blackened by the flames and soot, completely intact and unmarred. There wasn’t even a scratch on the thing by the time it was done. It took about four rounds of gunpowder, heat and slice before there was a loud clink as their two blades met in the middle. They were through the bolt.

Brushing their weapons off, Carl ditched his sorry-looking melted knife, then slotted his remaining bullets back into the handgun, and they prepared themselves to go.

There wasn’t much noise on the other side, but there was something there. Leyth listened briefly through the small gap in the door; he could hear heartbeats and shallow breathing. There were lots of them.

Taking a deep breath, Carl took the safety off and trained his gun on the door, nodding at Leyth to open it. He didn’t hesitate. Keeping his bolo high, he thrust a heavy kick at the metal door, swinging the thing wide open.