Wolf Island (The Demonata #8)

Wolf Island (The Demonata #8) Page 18

As magic drains from the air, the barrier blocking the doorway gives way. Meera, Prae and the werewolves stumble into the room. Timas enters via the hole which Pip blew in one of the side walls earlier. He must have circled round while I was fighting Juni. A dangerous manoeuvre-he could have been attacked by a rogue werewolf but he got away with it. Not that it mattered. Juni had blocked that entrance too.

"Grubbs," Meera cries, rushing over. "Are you OK?"

I moan pitifully, reaching for a window which is no longer there, Juni's prediction echoing in my ears. It can't be true. She was mocking me. It's part of some horrible game.

But she had me at her mercy. I was helpless. It would have been a simple matter to finish me off. She spared me because she saw me destroy the world in the future. Nothing else makes sense. I'm more valuable to her alive than dead. I can do what she, Lord Loss and the Shadow can't.

"You're wounded," Meera says, fussing over me. "You have to heal yourself."

"Leave me alone," I cry, hammering the floor and cursing.

"The magic's fading," Meera hisses. "Use it to heal yourself or you'll die."

"Good," I mutter. Better if I die. I can't wreck the world if I'm dead.

"Grubbs!" she snaps. "Don't be an ass. Heal yourself. Now!"

I sigh miserably, then focus my power on the bleeding wounds, broken ribs and ruptured inner organs. It would be for the best if I perished, but I can't give up on life. I'm not that much of a hero.

"What happened?" Timas asks.

"Didn't you hear?" I wheeze, working on my chest and upper stomach.

"The sound faded out," Timas says. "It was like someone turning down the volume on a television set."

"It was the same for us," Meera says.

So Juni didn't want the others to hear her prediction, in case they decided to kill me for the good of mankind. I consider telling them. I'm pretty sure one of them-maybe all three-would put a bullet through my head if they knew of the threat I pose. But that would be another form of suicide, so I hold my tongue and shake my head.

"Just more of the same rubbish," I grumble. "She said she was sparing me for her master, that Lord Loss wanted to kill me himself."

"Strange," Timas notes. "She was happy to let the werewolves slaughter you."

"I guess she knew I'd survive. It was all a set-up. She never meant for me to die, only the rest of you, so that she could relish my pain."

Timas makes a sceptical humming noise, but says no more. I continue healing myself, Meera watching closely to make sure I don't miss anything. The power's fading fast, but I've dealt with most of the life-threatening injuries. I'll live.

The werewolves-there are five in the room with us-are sniffing the floor by one of the walls. They're growling. I bark at them to be quiet. Listening carefully, I hear scrabbling sounds. Someone's crawling away in a hurry.

"The maps you studied earlier," I say to Timas, rising painfully but standing steady on my feet once I'm up. "Did they show any tunnels or crawlways running off this room?"

"No," Timas says, edging up beside the werewolves.

"Then they weren't as complete as you thought," I sniff.

"You're right," he says, tapping the wall. "There's a hidden panel. I'm sure I can find the opening mechanism if you give me a few-"

I snap at the werewolves. The largest smashes a fist into the metal panel. Again. A third time. It crumples under his fourth blow, snapping loose at the upper and left edges. The werewolf gets a few fingers into the gap and wrenches off the panel, revealing a small passage.

The werewolf who removed the panel darts into the crawlway, but stops at a command from me. Shuffling forward, I stoop and stare into the gloominess. I can't see the person scuttling away from us, but I can smell him. It's a familiar, cultured scent. I smile viciously.

"After me," I say softly, then lower myself to my hands and knees. I edge forward, moving faster than the man ahead of me, steadily catching up, making heavy snarling noises, letting him know I'm coming, savouring the intoxicating smell of his mounting fear.

The crawlway opens out into a large room at the rear of the compound. There are several boats stacked at the sides, but all the hulls have been shattered, holes punched through the shells, making them as seaworthy as sieves. I figure Juni wanted to give her soldiers an extra incentive to stand and fight. She made sure nobody shipped out early.

Antoine Horwitzer is struggling with one of the useless boats, hauling it towards an open section at the far side of the room. I can smell and hear the sea, the crash of the waves, the cries of the gulls. Antoine is sobbing, his jacket tossed to one side, shirt ripped, trousers dirty. He must know he can't get anywhere in the boat, but desperation drives him on.

As the others emerge behind me, I raise a hand, holding them in check. Antoine doesn't know we're here. He's totally focused, head bent, straining painfully, using muscles he probably hasn't tested in years. I'm amused by the sight of him dragging the wreck of a boat towards the edge. For a while I forget about Juni Swan and her terrible prophecy, and just enjoy the show.

Finally, when he has about a metre to go, I cough softly.

He freezes. Moans. Gives the boat an especially strong tug. Doesn't look up.

"Antoine," I laugh, stepping towards him.

He looks back, gauging how much further he has to go. His arms relax and his shoulders slump when he realises he can't make it. He turns his desolate gaze on me and his eyes widen as he takes in my monstrous form, my blood-soaked body and limbs, my fangs and wolfen face.

"What happened to you?" he gasps.

"Teenage angst," I chuckle. I whistle at the werewolves and they spread out. Meera, Timas and Prae are directly behind me.

Antoine shrieks when he spots the werewolves. Turns and races for the edge, to leap into the sea below. Drawing from the faint traces of magic in the air, I halt him, exerting an invisible hold over the fallen executive. He struggles wildly, then sees that it's hopeless. Giving up, he faces me.

"I'm going to kill you," I growl, advancing menacingly. "Juni got away, so I'm going to take out all my frustration on you. It will be slow and painful. Suitable payback for the lives you've ruined, the friends of mine you've killed."

"I didn't kill anyone!" he squeals.

"No, your kind never do," I sneer. "You leave it to others. You just set things up and give the orders."

"Please," Antoine sobs, throwing himself to his knees. "Don't do this. It serves no purpose. Put me on trial. Let the proper authorities deal with me. You're not a killer. There's no evil in your soul. Don't-"

"Look at me!" I roar. "Do you think you'll be the first I've killed today? I wasn't a murderer, but you changed me. I'm a monster now. And I'm hungry."

"Meera!" Antoine whines. "Prae! Please, I beg you. You're civilised people. Help me."

"We can't," Prae says coldly. "Even if we wanted to-and personally I have no problem with him gutting you-we couldn't. He's not ours to control. He's one of your specimens. You helped create him-now you have to deal with him."

Antoine stares at Prae in disbelief. I draw closer, growling softly in anticipation of the kill. Antoine's eyes harden. "Don't be so hasty, my hairy friend," he murmurs, sounding more like his old self. "There are others to consider."

"Like who?"

"Your uncle," he says smoothly, and I come to an abrupt halt.

Antoine rises, brushing dirt from his shirt and trousers. He frowns at his untidy condition, then runs a hand through his hair and shrugs. "I suppose this means an expensive trip to my tailor when I get back."

"You've got five seconds to tell me what you know about Dervish," I snarl.

"Oh, I have more time than that," Antoine grins. "Your uncle's in a perilous situation. There are forces moving against him even as we speak. It will take more than five seconds to-"

"Tell me!" I shout. "Now. Or I'll torture it out of you.

"I'm sure you could," Antoine says slickly, "but how long would it take? I'll hold out as long as I can, just to spite you. After all, you've already vowed to torment me. I don't know how long I can stand the pain, but minutes are precious. Do you dare waste them?"

I want to throttle him so badly it hurts. But he knows how important Dervish is to me. I don't want to cut a deal with this treacherous viper, but time's against me.

"What do you want?" I growl.

"My life," Antoine replies.

I think about it, then curse. "OK. I won't kill you. Now talk."

"Not so fast," Antoine says. "I want to add a few conditions before I divulge all that I know. Such as a boat without a hole in it, a compass and map, some-"

"Time's all you have to bargain with!" I snap. "If you don't tell me what you know immediately, I might as well torture you."

Antoine licks his lips nervously, then decides he has no choice but to play out the hand and hope for the best.

"A trap was laid for your uncle and some others," he says. "The girl called Bec was the one they wanted, but your uncle and Beranabus were important to them too. Juni didn't reveal all the details, but from what I gathered, the trap was partially successful. Beranabus was killed, but the-"

"No!" Meera cries, taking a step in front of me. "Beranabus can't be dead."

"According to Juni, he is," Antoine says calmly.

"But-" Meera starts to exclaim.

"Leave it," I cut in. "If Beranabus is dead, he's dead. Let this worm finish telling us what he knows about Dervish."

Meera doesn't like it, but she pulls back.

"Bec and your uncle escaped," Antoine continues. "The attack took place at sea, on a giant cruiser. They got off before it sank and are adrift in a lifeboat. Juni was furious. When she calmed down, she told me to send a crew to intercept the lifeboat and finish the job. They have instructions to kill Dervish and bring Bec back alive. Taking no chances, I roused three separate units and dispatched them from different locations. The first should be upon your uncle-" He checks his watch. "in sixteen minutes."

"Call them off," I hiss.

"I can't from here," he smirks. "But if you would kindly accompany me to my temporary office..."

I tremble with rage and hatred. If only I could rip the tongue from his mouth and swallow it whole-that would wipe the smirk from his face. But he has the upper hand, at least until I know that Dervish is safe. I'll have to allow him his smugness for a while. I start to agree to take him to his office, but Timas speaks before me.

"There's no need to relocate. I can see a radio unit in one of the boats. There are telephones and computer terminals set in the walls. We can communicate with the outside world from here."

"No," Antoine snaps. "There are things in my office which I need."

"Such as?" Timas asks with a little smile.

Antoine glowers. I see in his features that he had a plan in mind. The office was an excuse. He thought he could trick us and escape some other way.

"Don't play games," I say softly. "Your only hope is to prove that Dervish is alive and that we need you to protect him. If I think you're trying to weasel out, all bets are off and all promises are revoked."

"Come with me," Timas says commandingly, taking Antoine by the elbow and leading him to one side. "We'll work on it together. Tell me everything you did and how to undo it. I'll see to the rest."

"But... my equipment..." Antoine says weakly.

"We have all the equipment we need," Timas says, taking a radio unit from a boat and fiddling with the dials.

With a bitter sigh, Antoine casts aside whatever plan he had in mind, sits beside Timas and talks.

The minutes pass quickly. Part of me is sure we'll be too late. Antoine's Lambs will have caught a strong wind and picked up Bec sooner than anticipated. Gunned Dervish down and dumped him in the sea for the fishes to feast on. I'm prepared for the worst and ready to rip Antoine to pieces when he breaks the bad news. My wolfen half is looking forward to that. It doesn't care about Dervish or anything except slaughter and feeding. Dimly aware of Timas and Antoine talking on the radio, Antoine issuing codes and commands. Meera and Prae are listening in, but I'm too agitated to follow it all. I have very little patience since I changed.

Thinking about Juni's prediction again. I want to dismiss it. Me? Destroy the world? Ridiculous!

Except... it isn't. I've known since that night in the cave outside Carcery Vale that I have the power to annihilate not just a world, but a universe. Beranabus believed the Kah-Gash could be used against the Demonata, but it's a demonic weapon. Why should it work for us against those who created it?

I wish the contrary old magician was here. I need advice and guidance. But according to Antoine he's dead, killed on a ship, lost at sea. I should be in shock. I never liked the old buzzard, but he's protected this world for more than a thousand years and he's been my mentor for the last several months. His death should have hit me hard. But I only feel annoyed-why did he let himself fall into a trap now, of all times, when he was most needed?

"There we go," Antoine says, turning away from the radio. He salutes me with a sneer.

"What's the story?" I bark at Timas.

"We converted the assassination squad into a rescue crew," Timas says. "I was going to send Disciples, but it was simpler to use those already close to the scene. They've taken the survivors on board and are flying back, but not to the city where Juni had arranged to meet them."

"Dervish?" I mutter, dreading the response.

"Alive," Timas says. "In bad shape-all three of them are-but breathing."

"Three?" Meera echoes.

"Dervish, Bec and a Disciple called Kirilli Kovacs. You know him?" Meera shakes her head. "Apparently he was on board when they went to the ship."

"What about Sharmila?" Meera asks.

"Dead," Timas says simply. "Along with Beranabus. Maybe Kernel too, but they weren't sure about that. A few thousand passengers and crew were murdered also."

"A good day's work," Meera snaps at Antoine.

"You can't blame me for what happened on the ship," he huffs. "I had nothing to do with that." He smiles thinly at me. "Those on board the helicopter have orders to release the hostages only in my presence. A little insurance policy."

I stare at Antoine without blinking. "Dervish is safe?" I ask Timas.

"Yes."

"Then we're finished here."

I still haven't blinked. Antoine's fidgeting now.

"You haven't forgotten your promise, have you?" he laughs, trying but failing to sound light-hearted.

I shake my head slowly. And grin wolfishly.

"I assume you're a man of your word?" Antoine says stiffly.

"I'm not a man," I answer quietly. "But yes," I add as he turns an even paler shade of white beneath his tan. "I said I wouldn't kill you, and I won't."

Antoine breaks into a smile. All his confidence and arrogance come flooding back. He takes a step forward, eager to establish control of the situation. I raise a gnarled, semi-human hand to stop him.

"I said I wouldn't kill you," I repeat slowly. "But I said nothing about them." I gesture at the five werewolves.

Antoine laughs feebly. He thinks I'm joking. Then he looks deeper into my eyes and realises I'm as serious as death.

"No!" he croaks. "You can't. Your uncle-they'll kill him if I'm not there."

"I'll take that chance," I chuckle, then click my tongue. Five pairs of wolfen ears prick to attention and the room fills with growls of grisly delight.

"Please," Antoine sobs, backing up. "I did what you asked. I cooperated."

I turn my back on him and nod at Meera, Timas and Prae.

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Meera asks as the werewolves advance and Antoine whimpers and begs for mercy.

"Yes," I say flatly.

"It's a callous act," she warns. "This will stain your soul forever. You might regret it when-"

"When what?" I snap. "When I turn back into a human? When we defeat the Demonata and skip off into the sunset, holding hands? That isn't going to happen. This is what I am. Get used to it."

I step out of the room, feeling nothing but a dim sense of pleasure that Dervish is alive. "I don't think I have a soul any longer, if I ever had to begin with," I tell Meera softly. "And my only regret is that there aren't more like Antoine to kill."

Then the air fills with Antoine's screams. I march ahead without looking back, smiling savagely as the scent of the traitor's blood reaches my nostrils. I lift my nose and breathe in deep. My eyes narrow. My mouth waters. My stomach growls.

Delicious.