The Lycan Rebirth (The Flux Age Book 3) (10 page)

Once Yasmin’s small army were comfortably installed on the tenth floor she reached out to Lionel Talbot, the city mayor, and received an interview almost immediately. The mayor came to Yasmin, his sweaty, pallid face revealing the stress he had been under.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you here, Yasmin,” he said. “There’s something cooking here in New York, we can all feel it.”

“You know what I am, don’t you?” Yasmin asked.

The mayor lowered his eyes and nodded his head. “I know you’re a friend of the lycans, and that’s enough for me.”

The mayor sat opposite Yasmin and looked at her urgently.

“I’ll level with you, Miss Silver,” he said. “Since the lycans were all killed we’ve felt particularly vulnerable here. There are rumors of ghouls marching through the tunnels under the city. Tunnels that the lycans used to patrol.”

The mayor’s eyes had welled up with tears. Yasmin could empathize with the man’s desperate situation. Flux creatures would soon be tearing up the whole city. It was imperative that she reassure the mayor.

“That’s why we’re here,” Yasmin said soothingly. “I’ll put my people on the streets to get a feel of the city. Once we’ve done that we can set up a defensive line. I’ll advise you on that later. In the meantime I want you to pool all state troopers and bring them into Manhattan. This is important, Lionel.”

The mayor sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. “You expect some kind of attack in the next few days?”

“You can bank on it,” Yasmin said confidently. “Work with the police commissioner and make sure there’s plenty of protection in the city.”

“I can do that,” the mayor said tiredly. “Are there any, you know, lycans left?”

“One that I know of,” Yasmin replied. “I’m hoping to see Jack Foley quite soon.”

The mayor’s eyes lit up momentarily. Yasmin couldn’t help but smile, glad to bring a little warmth to his cold, lonely job.

“Lycans make good figureheads,” Lionel said by way of explanation. “I respect them, the police revere them, and most importantly of all, the people fucking
love
them.”

After Yasmin had exchanged details with the mayor and seen him to the door, she took a moment to sit quietly and send a message she’d been thinking about for days now.

She keyed in Jack’s cell number and typed in the following - NEW YORK. COME.

It was simple but effective. No one had been able to risk cell phone communications since the Lycan Society had been attacked. In this day and age it was simply too easy to trace. With Jack and Florence in such vulnerable positions, there was no way for Yasmin to see if they were OK, and that killed her. She was thrilled to receive an immediate reply from her lover - C U SOON X.

Yasmin chuckled out loud, delighted at the playful sign off. Now that they all knew - hopefully - where the Berlin Club would attack, the risk of communicating with Jack had decreased. Still, Yasmin wished she had more time and opportunity to talk to the man who had won her love. There was no doubt she wanted to do more than kiss him when they finally caught up with each other.

Stretching in the dreaded morning sunlight, Yasmin commanded the curtains to draw together and crawled into bed.

As she drifted off into the restorative sleep of the vampire, she ticked off all the things she’d need to do on the morrow.

Her first task was potentially the most difficult - reclaim the lycan chapter house.

Surely there was no better base for her dark army.

7

Grand Providence, Bahamas

Gustav and his hideous detachment of arachne guided Florence’s ragtag party through thick, sweltering jungle. Though she was glad to be surrounded by creatures that didn’t want to kill her immediately, Florence had a sinking feeling that the arachne weren’t going to play nicely. Already she’d heard a number of threatening hisses from the large spiders, and without their leader being present she had no doubt that they would wrap the lycans in thick, tenderizing silk and store them for slow consumption later. From what she remembered of her studies, the arachne method of disposing of their prey was both repulsive and cruel. Every fiber of her being lurched with nausea when she glanced at their new captors scuttling through the jungle foliage. The arachne had a certain way of moving that inspired dread and disgust. Keeping her focus on the jungle ahead, Florence turned her mind to more pressing matters. Would the arachne help them? What was their relationship like with the aquila? She guessed they would know soon enough. One thing was certain - her trainees had a lot to learn about etiquette.

Florence wasn’t used to playing the diplomat, but she was forced to manage her trainees and convince them that
this
situation was a
lot
better than the previous one. Their natural instinct was to growl and spit at the large spiders, behavior that was returned in kind. But there was a delicate balance at play here and it was crucial that everybody kept a cool head.

The surrounding terrain became darker and steamier. The foliage hung low and limp. Thick tendrils snaked their way down and clung to the werewolves’ fur. More than once Florence slapped a bug or tic and hoped she hadn’t been poisoned.

And yet the thicker the vegetation became, the more she relaxed. After a while the canopy became so thick she couldn’t imagine the aquila being able to penetrate it. Gustav pushed through a thick curtain of vines and held them aside for Florence to follow. She gasped as she emerged into a huge, bowl-shaped hollow filled with mossy rock platforms and sliced by a burbling stream. As Florence’s eyes adjusted to the light she realized there were hundred of spiders here in varying sizes, shapes and colors. Tiny red spiders. Spiders with a glowing blue streak on their abdomens. Long, spindly spiders that rested on incredibly beautiful and intricate webs that spanned the entire hollow. She was both awestruck and humbled. It seemed that the arachne preferred to spend most, if not all their time, as their spirit creatures.

As she moved through the dark, cool hollow Florence realized it was lit by millions of tiny seed husks drifting through the thick air. They emitted a faint orange glow that gave the scene a welcoming glow and went some way to reducing the threat of the larger spiders.

“Head down,” Gustav murmured as he disappeared between two rocks. Florence did as she was told, picking her way down a winding path and ended up in a cool glade by the stream. Far above, Gustav emerged on a flat rock. With a lurch of anxiety Florence realized he was about to address his kin. She gathered her trainees around her and held Julian’s hand. The aquilan was sweating down here, unused to such thick heat. He also seemed a little confused and unsure of himself. Florence gave him a reassuring look, but in truth she was worried.

Gustav broke her reflections when he spoke in a booming voice.

“Kin of the Hollow,” he began, getting everyone’s attention immediately. “The runes tell us that our ancestors were persecuted at every turn. Two millennia ago we were pitted against humans by forces far greater than we could ever imagine. During the last Flux Age we were hunted by humans at every turn because they thought we carried plague and disease. The spider’s lot has been a wretched one for a very, very long time.”

Several spiders sitting around the hollow murmured their agreement.

“And now,” Gustav intoned, his voice rising slightly, “we find ourselves at a crossroads. Unlike these lycans here, we are
not
idolized by humans. We are seen as rank, unwholesome beasts. The only good spider’s a dead spider.
Right
?”

The assembled arachne muttered their disagreement.

“
Wrong
. We know that, and it’s time humans knew that too. Let me tell you something. As you know, I’m a student of statistics. For instance, did you know that in the coming ten years, I predict that only thirty per cent of all humans will find their spirit beasts? Wanna know what happens to the rest?”

Reverent silence filled the Kin Hollow.

“Over eighty per cent of them will die!”

Gustav peered over the edge of the rock. His arachnid face quivered with passion.

“Unless,” he said in a quieter voice. “Unless. Such a hopeful word, isn’t it?”

Gustav began pacing up and down his platform. Florence was mesmerized by the oratory. He was truly a master of the art and a charismatic leader.

“Unless humans can be protected by those with the power to offer it,” Gustav said. “The arachne have a choice. I say we choose
life
.”

Ripples of strong agreement passed round the hollow.

“Did you hear me?” Gustav roared. “I say we choose life!”

A boom erupted all around Florence. The thunderous sound was created by thousands of spider legs stamping the ground. Then a hissing sound that pierced Florence’s heart and almost made her lose her nerve.

“Lycans,” Gustav managed to say above the hubbub. “We stand alongside you now, and as long as it takes to see you restored to your former glory.”

Florence made eye contact with Gustav, tears in her eyes. Her gratitude must’ve been obvious, because he simply nodded and smiled.

The next two hours were spent in long consultation with Gustav’s war council. Seven spiders including the arachne leader sat before Florence in a semi-circle. Each one seemed to be a different sub-species.

A shrill cry pierced the gloom. It had come from far above the canopy.

“Eagle war cry,” an old, pockmarked spider muttered. “Those birds are stupid but will find us eventually.”

Some of the spiders laughed appreciatively.

“How you wanna play this, Gustav?” asked another. “We can deploy our troops at short notice.”

“This could go down to the wire,” Gustav warned with a frown. “Florence tells me the aquila are well armed and well resourced. There could be hundreds of eagles out there.”

“They might try and smoke you out,” Florence said. “Their best chance is to get you out in the open.”

“I wish them luck with that,” Gustav said with a chuckle. “The canopy is strong from here to the ocean to the south.”

“Then a direct attack is all they have,” Florence pointed out. “The sooner, the better, giving you less chance to organize.”

Another eagle cry, closer now.

“They’ve found us,” Gustav said. “Mabior, have your kin line up on the northern platform.”

A bulbous spider with an electric blue streak on its back scuttled away.

“Oleg, position the orbs in a wide circle in front of the north platform,” Gustav said.

A giant spider with long legs left the same way Mabior had.

A fizzing, roaring sound rose from the rank jungle a half click to the north.

“Fire bombs,” Gustav said softly. “It has begun.”

Florence looked at the arachne leader with wide eyes.

“Put me in your vanguard,” she said fiercely. “I have a score to settle with these fucking eagles.”

“You will take your trainees and your grounded eagle and wait down the bottom,” Gustav said firmly. “Remember, the aquila are after
you
. It makes sense to have them pass through hell to get to you.”

Florence nodded reluctantly - she wanted desperately to fight, but the plan made sense. What she couldn’t work out was how the arachne planned to draw the aquila into the hollow.

Finding Julian and the others, Florence took them all back down to the coolness of the hollow bottom. Spiders scuttled chaotically on the winding paths above them, their legs chittering in unison. It made for an unsettling effect, but Florence could imagine what it would sound like to an enemy.

“Ready for action,” she said to her party.

“How are the spiders hoping to get us involved?” Wilson asked incredulously.

“Take a leap of faith,” Florence suggested, watching the canopy nervously. She looked over at Emmaline, who was wide-eyed and determined. “Stay low,” Florence told her. “Call out to me if you’re attacked.”

Emmaline nodded. If anything, she looked more confident than Julian. The cries of eagles pierced the canopy at regular intervals. Florence swallowed nervously - it was like they were right on top of them.

“Ready!” the spider named Mabior yelled from somewhere above them. “Fire!”

Florence watched in amazement as gobs of liquid shot high in the air and dissolved entire sections of jungle canopy. The substance could only have been corrosive venom judging from the way it ate through the foliage. The barrage had come from the stone platform around thirty yards above them. That was where the electric blue spiders had been positioned.

The sky was now visible through the gaps in the canopy. The spiders had timed their first volley perfectly as the eagles had swooped low. They now hovered over the damaged canopy, many of them holding machine guns.

“Fire!” screamed the great orb spider Oleg. The long-legged orb spiders suspended in cable-like webs shot long tendrils of silk from their lower abdomens. The silk spears whistled through the holes created by the corrosion spiders. Several aquilan warriors cried in shock as they were wrapped in the tight, sticky substance and bought crashing to earth. Many of them crashed through the canopy and hit branches and rocks on their way to the bottom of the hollow. Three broken, crumpled bodies fell close to Florence’s party. Before she could do anything, a clutch of black spiders rushed from the undergrowth and prised the fallen eagles’ wings from their bodies using long fangs. The aquilans writhed for a few seconds before dying in agony.