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‘Will’, the man in question, stepped out from behind the large rack of shelving. He was smaller than the blond with messy hair and baggy trousers.
“What?”
“Where did that submarine get shipped from?”
“Uh, there’s a little dock in town, it’s tiny, big enough for maybe one car to tow one boat. Probably there.” He grunted, nodding at Leyth. “Mate, you are huge.”
“Thanks.” Leyth nodded back. “And thanks for your help, boys.”
As the two of them left, the beasty man stalked back to the kettle and continued with the tea he was making. Dax could have sworn he was singing Whitney Houston as he did so. What a sight that made.
Dax made quick work of texting Tam to let her know what was doing, and she hit him back instantly, letting them know they were reviewing CCTV footage, and to ping her the address when they found it.
With that they went on a small harbour hunt. Google maps showed only one likely option; it was quite literally a gap between buildings that led to the river running through Chatham. It was tiny on the map yet when they arrived at the spot there was nothing but shops and houses.
“Are you sure this is it?”
“Yup. Our GPS dot is literally on top of it.”
“Well, crap. Looks like it lied,” Leyth snorted, eyeing the building in front of them. It was fairly nondescript, brick walls and a wooden door. The windows had heavy curtains behind them and that was it. The walls were covered in the soot and grime of age and they looked as though they had stood there for decades.
Dax swore in frustration leaning against the building, cursing again as his shoulder came away covered in black.
The wall had smudged where his shoulder had been, the dirt coming away easily. The brick underneath was bright red.
“Now why would a building be covered in oil?” Leyth said, running a finger across the cement holding the bricks in place. That too was clean as a whistle once the oil came off.
“To give the impression of age?” Dax grinned, eyeing the door.
“Why would anyone want a house to look old and grimy?”
“Only if they didn’t want anyone to notice it.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Leyth glanced over at Dax, who eyed the street they were on. There were no CCTV cameras, it was a fairly old street, and most of the buildings looked deserted, the shops empty.
“Do it,” Dax barked. Leyth didn’t wait a heartbeat and in one swift movement sent a heavy kick at the wooden door, smashing the lock and sending the thing splintering open.
Only then did all hell break loose.
Chapter Three (#ulink_0a8d6b2b-de21-52dc-b866-a243ed60e32a)
The two of them thundered through the door, slamming the rickety wood shut behind them. Leyth barked out a curse, falling into a defensive crouch and sliding his nine-millimetre pistol out. Dax hit the floor, blood welling steadily from a gunshot wound on his shoulder.
Whoever was here had been waiting for them, silencer and all. They hadn’t even heard the shot, it was only when something small and hard hit him in the shoulder that he knew something was off. Way off.
“Fuck,” Dax screamed, snapping his Glock free and training it on the interior of the room, all from his position on the floor.
It was one hell of a building. There were no rooms or floors, just the shell of a house, cement floor and brick walls. It was completely empty but for an enormous boat dominating the middle of the room. Dax’s eyes slowly began to adjust to the gloom of the building. Picking out a small table and chairs on which stood bottles of beer and what looked like a half played game of poker. At the end of the room stood two huge wooden doors, big enough to fit a boat through no doubt, and he would put money on the fact that those doors led out to the water. There was no one else in sight, but there had to be someone here. That damn bullet hadn’t come from nowhere. Unless they had run out through those massive doors, they had to be on the boat. There was nowhere else to hide.
The thing itself was absolutely huge, and had been painted black, recently if the stench of paint was anything to go by. It was stood on top of a large metal trailer, with a large cabin and a rail running the entire way around the deck. There were two ladders stood next to the boat on both sides, and no doubt a set of steps at the back.
Dax glanced briefly at Leyth, who signalled them forward. They kept to the underside of the boat, the girth of the thing allowing them shelter from the shooter above. When they came to the ladders, Dax ran out so his back was against the brick wall, pointing the muzzle of his Glock up at the cabin. He awkwardly waved a hand at Leyth, letting him know it was clear for the moment. Gritting his teeth and biting back a curse, he held his injured arm tightly against him. It would heal in no time, but damn that shit hurt!
Being the injured party, he was better shooting from the ground rather than being caught on a ladder, so he was smart enough not to argue the point as Leyth quickly climbed the metal steps. Dax held his breath, waiting for any sign of the enemy. Utter silence. Unnatural silence.
Leyth scanned the top of the boat with the muzzle of his gun. When nothing happened, he carefully stepped onto the surface of the boat, the thing rocking slightly and creaking with the motion. It took several seconds for him to check the deck and cabin. And another few painstakingly quiet seconds for him to check the belly of the boat. When he reappeared, he walked casually over to the side and leaned down.
“Nothing,” he barked, lowering his gun. “The boat’s empty, and I can see the entire room from up here.”
“Well, crap.”
“You don’t think they went out of those –” The rest of the sentence was cut off as something huge and black fell from the ceiling all but covering Leyth. Dax barked out a curse as another huge black beast dropped on top of him at the same time. Hand-shaped talons scraped at his wounded shoulder as a beak the size of his thigh snapped dangerously close to his jugular.
Dropping his gun as he fell to the floor, Dax swore. Rolling out of the way as those huge talons grabbed at him again.
“What the HELL?!” He bit out as the black thing flew off, circling the roof of the building and aiming itself at him once again. Should have checked the damn ceiling! he thought, reaching for the knives strapped to his chest.
He knew he wouldn’t have time to get to his Glock; the weapon had clattered well out of reach. The huge black bird screeched, the noise all but bursting his eardrums as it flew at him. It was an ugly bastard, human shaped from head to foot, with black-feathered bits of flapping skin that might pass for wings stretched from the man-bird’s arms down to its legs. Those ugly wings seemed to flap awkwardly, unnaturally. The crow’s deformed face still looked human but had a large beak in place of its mouth and sharp claw on its still human looking hands and feet.
Dax rolled onto his back, not daring to stand. He needed to be a small target not a tall one. The crow flew directly at him, picking up speed. As it came within range, Dax could smell death and rot. Definitely a tomb, and yup, there they were, huge completely black eyes. Bastards.
Shifters that had joined the Circle and become tombs could only shift-shape if the Magi running the band of rebels willed it. And the fact that the tomb’s eyes were black meant that the Magi was still possessing the tomb’s body. The soulless black pits acted as mirrors, so they could see what was happening through the tomb’s eyes from whatever corner of the Earth they were hiding in.
The bird hit him with great force, raking its claw-like feet over his body. Thankfully his Kevlar-reinforced combats took most of the bite out of it. But it didn’t stop those deadly talons ripping their way through some of the material and sinking deeply into his flesh. He hissed as warm blood ran across his leg.
The thing flapped its awkward, huge wings, making the air around him swirl, dust stirring and filling his eyes, making him cough and his eyes water. It flew up to the rafters of the building, circling once again and aiming directly at him.
This time though, Dax was ready for it. As the ugly son-of-a-bitch flew at him again, talons poised and ready, Dax held his breath, adrenaline surging as those wings roared towards him, the air stirring, whipping across his face.
He held his ground, waiting…
Finally it was on him, those ugly feet scraping across his shins as that huge beak snapped at his face, aiming directly for his throat. Dax didn’t hesitate, he thrust his knife upwards, the blade catching the skin of the tomb’s wing and piercing its way straight through the thin flesh. He ripped his arm sideways, taking the sharp blade of the knife with him, creating a sizable tear in the wing of the beast.
It let out an almighty scream that sounded a bit like a strangled cat.
Ironic seeing as technically they were wolves fighting birds.
As it tried to turn in mid-air, the injured wing gave out making him spiral heavily towards the floor. Dax jumped up, launching himself at the damn bird as it hit the floor in a heap. That sharp beak snapped at him, lacerating his arm as he struggled to shove it out of the way. Finally he got a good grip on the base of its chin and shoved its head backwards, plunging the knife deeply into the bastard’s throat and ripping it sideways, decapitating the deformed crow shifter. As its body fell limply to the floor, Dax swiped at the sweat and blood on his forehead.
“Nice.” Leyth grinned from the edge of the boat, his own bird-tomb hanging from the ladder, its neck snapped at an awkward angle, wings tangled in the steps.
“What the hell?!” Dax spat, eyeing the two ugly beasts.
“Tombs.” Leyth nodded, looking equally disgusted. They were obviously crow shifters, gone Circle-wrong.
Now as far as they could tell, the only time they could shift and change into their crow counterparts was when the Circle’s Magi directed the change.
The problem being that the Magi weren’t shifters, they didn’t know how to properly direct the body into its alternate form so when they called to the soul of the animal, they only partially shifted, turning them into this ugly-looking half-human, half-animal beast. And they truly were ugly.
“Holy shit.” Tamriel gaped as she arrived on the scene a few minutes later and took in the two huge half-shifted crows. “You really weren’t joking about the Circle’s shifters being gross.”
“Yeah, why on earth they think it’s a good idea to join the Circle I’ll never know.” Julian wrinkled his nose. “Leyth – Sapphire and the team are on the way, I suggest you two get to Doc ASAP.”
“I agree,” Tamriel snorted eyeing Leyth’s various talon-wounds and idly dabbing at one with the sleeve of her shirt.
“Female, I’m fine,” Leyth snapped, looking down at her. His hard features instantly softened as he met her gaze. Leaning in he landed a kiss on her lips.
“Well, you won’t want a sponge bath when you get home then will you?” she grinned.
“Erm.– I mean…oh Tam, I’m so sore – I’m poorly – You need to help me.” He quickly backtracked as she wrapped her arms around his thick neck.
Maker, those two were sickening.
“Put it back in your trousers, Leyth,” Julian growled. “What have we found?”
“Nothing,” Dax grumbled, eyeing the room they were in. He and Leyth had scoured the place from top to bottom and found nothing but a few firearms, a knife set and a mobile phone that had nothing on it bar a call history from a blocked number. Oh yeah, and one hell of a boat. You’d think they might leave at least one bit of information here though; it was thoroughly irritating that they had hit a dead end. No leads. And to top it all off when that arsehole had shot him, Dax had fallen on his back, crushing his laptop and his phone that were both stored in his backpack. Both were broken and useless. Which meant any information his search at home brought up would be sitting there waiting for him and he wouldn’t be able to access it. And in the unlikely event that Alison did manage to surface and get signal for her GPS chip, none of them would know about it.
“Right,” Julian boomed. “Who knows how to drive a boat?”
Alison sat heaving air into her lungs. Her muscles were shaking so uncontrollably she could barely swipe the hair sticking to her sweat-drenched forehead away. She was a killer. She had killed two men today.
The thought made her sick, but more than that, the effort of doing so had left her incredibly weak. She hadn’t eaten properly in almost a month, and the energy it took to take those two tuhrned out had all but killed her. She’d managed to prop herself up against the wall in the damp dark hallway outside the bathroom. Looking at those two wasn’t an option. She was so cold she could barely feel her fingers and so weak she couldn’t for the life of her stand up. Maker only knew she’d tried.
Rocking herself forward so she was on her hands and knees, she crawled slowly over to the door, the one door she had been aiming to get to for the last few weeks. The door she was sure led out of this godforsaken place. Now she’d finally managed to get to it, she was so damn frail she could barely turn the handle. Staying on the ground on her knees, she reached up and struggled to turn the handle sideways. Thankfully it was unlocked; obviously the brutes had little faith that she would get this far.
The wooden thing swung slowly forward, revealing a small stairwell. Alison held her breath, listening intently. She may not be able to change into her wolf form but her senses were still second to none, she would be able to hear if there was anyone in the immediate vicinity.
Thankfully the stairwell beyond was blessedly silent, and scent-free bar the stench of the two brutes that had guarded her. Pulling herself forward, still on her hands and knees, she all but dragged herself up the broad metal steps leading to places unknown. The entire stairwell was brick, heavy thick brick. She could tell she was somewhere well underground because of the sheer thickness of the walls and the staleness of the air.
Finally, after what felt like decades, Alison reached the top step and collapsed onto the metal flooring above, heaving deep breaths and shaking so much it was an effort to keep herself still and not fall back down the stupidly long set of stairs she’d just climbed. Hell, at least she was warmer. The effort it took to haul herself up here had her sweating and her muscles screaming in protest.
She forced herself to still, took a deep breath and held it there, listening again. Other than the laboured thumping of her heart there was nothing to be heard.
It was deathly silent.
Pulling her strength together, Alison looked around. The top of the stairs looked very much like the bottom, just a small stairwell, though the floor and walls up here were made of steel, the metal so rusted it splintered into her palms as she dragged herself forward. The heavy metal door leading out of the stairwell was unlocked like the previous door and as she opened it, every sense tingling with awareness, every nerve on edge. The fear riding her made it difficult to breathe. She could barely hold in the gasp that escaped her lips…
The room beyond was vast and open. As soon as the heavy door swung open the sound of water, waves lapping against metal, hit her ears, deafening her. The circular room had very little in it: huge steel pillars held up what looked like a balcony, the metal flooring giving way to a giant pool of water, on which the tip of what looked like a tiny submarine floated.
Maker, Mother of the Earth – Where in the world was she?
The place was completely deserted. The room held very little bar the weird floating submarine. The water was salty, and filled the air with the distinct scent of seawater. The waves lapping against the surrounding steel were nothing in comparison to the crashing waves she could hear outside.
There was a desk with a kettle on it and two cups, a sink and a small fridge and that was literally it. There were a set of metal steps leading up to the balcony and beyond that was the great outdoors. And oh Maker, the sunlight that flooded through the cracked glass windows was like water to the parched. She missed its warmth, had craved its light for oh so many weeks, and now it was blessedly shining down upon her she felt tears of joy sting her eyes. She was almost free! She was so close she could taste it.
Surely if she could see the sky, it meant she was far enough above ground for her GPS chip to get signal?
Snapping herself back to reality, Alison sternly told herself that she was not safe yet. She was sure that there would be more brutes in this godawful metal building somewhere and she hadn’t the strength to fight them.
Cursing at the rusted metal biting into her hands, she dragged herself to the fridge and cracked the thing open. There was little in there; milk that looked as though it had gone off weeks ago and some stale bread. She didn’t care though; she palmed the bread and bit into it. She felt as though she hadn’t eaten properly in weeks. She wolfed the stuff down, pulling herself up on the sink and washing it down with some blessedly clean, cold water. She washed her face and paused, giving her stomach a moment to digest the small offering.
Though it was only a minimal amount of food, Alison could already feel her body strengthening. She would never feel as strong as she once had been. Her body was slowly decaying but she couldn’t help that. For now she was just glad of the strength some sustenance gave her and revelled in the feel of the sun on her skin. Even so she couldn’t help wistfully thinking about her life before the former High Lord.
The new High Lord was no better, that snivelling bastard might not be as creepy as the last but he was still a decaying Magi on a power trip.
Where the last High Lord was a true vampire, who had also been born Magi, the new one was a born Magi who had been turned vampire by the former High Lord. His body, needless to say, hadn’t weathered the change well.
And he was utterly disgusting. Alison couldn’t help internally cringing at the memory of her time with that male – if you could call him that.
She pushed the memories aside, telling them exactly where to ‘stick it’ as her brother would say. Alison carefully made her way over to the metal steps. At least she was on two feet now, though she couldn’t help staggering slightly as wave after wave of exhaustion hit her. She quietly made her way up the steps, her heart in her throat. Sheer terror washed through her at the thought of how many more tombs may be up there. She doubted she could take anyone on now and survive. Her limbs were trembling so badly she had to grip the handrail, hard, to keep herself steady. Her legs shook with every step and her stomach threatened to spill its meagre contents. Alison reached the top of the steps, her jaw dropping open as she scanned the area. She staggered over to the doorway, thrusting it open. There she fell to her knees, the mother of all screams ripping its way out of her throat.
It wasn’t more tombs she had to be worried about. It was this.
The open-air space she’d found herself in was absolutely empty, not a damn person in sight. Not a damn thing in sight. Not a damn bit of land in sight.
Maker save her! She was on a rusted metal oilrig in the middle of the sea.
Panic and despair washed over her as she realised how far out to sea she must be. Hell. The endless blue waves went for miles and miles, she was so far away from any land that she couldn’t even make out any country she might be near. Alison was well and truly in the middle of the ocean.
With tears streaming relentlessly down her cheeks, Alison sat on the edge of the metal framework. Any energy she might have had was well and truly gone, any hope of rescue she may have had squashed. She felt absolutely crushed. She was alone, cold and terrified in the middle of the goddamn ocean with no hope of salvation.
As Tamriel reached Dax’s glass-fronted fortress, she couldn’t help but gasp in awe. The mirrored glass reflected the forest around it perfectly, making it blend seamlessly into the trees. Unless you were looking for it, you wouldn’t know it was there. That male was a genius but he was damn paranoid. Only a wolf with that much intelligence and that much paranoia would build a fortress that not only blended so well into its surroundings it was nigh on invisible but anyone inside could monitor every square inch of land surrounding the fortress through the glass.
Every panel of glass doubled up as a computer monitor.
She reached the part of the building that she knew as the door and placed her hand against the small square section she knew as the scanner.
It had taken her weeks to work out which bit of glass was which. It all looked the damn same. There was a brief moment in which the red scanner went to work on her palm, scanning each fingerprint, before there was a subtle click and the panel of glass that made up the door slid open, allowing her entry. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. The only reason it allowed her access was because Dax had overridden the initial security check from the mansion. No one was allowed in his personal space without explicit consent from the wolf himself.
Dax needed to see Doc; hell, he was beaten and bruised. The male had a damn gunshot wound in his shoulder and still it had taken all of them to force him into the medical clinic. He absolutely refused to be treated, he was furious when they had forced him to and had only calmed down when Tam had offered to go to his house and get one of his spare laptops and a phone so he could check his search engine and his GPS monitoring equipment. Bloody stubborn male. Though she knew he was right, they couldn’t waste time, and Maker only knew none of them wanted to be far from the equipment Dax had designed, in case Alison’s chip showed up.
Once Tam was inside, the first security hurdle over, the door slid shut. She was caged inside the bulletproof glass box that was the entrance to Dax’s house. She punched the four-digit code that he had given her into the metal keypad on the side, and then pressed her hand against another scanner. The code was another override, no one could get in or out of Dax’s fortress without him personally authorising it. Because he wasn’t here and didn’t have his phone, she had to bypass the system apparently.
The keyboard flashed again, signalling her to put in the next code. She hastily typed in the next set of digits, at which a small box popped open with a microphone in it. Tam sighed and rolled her eyes as she held her phone up to the speaker and pressed ‘play’.
“Override authorisation code.” The recording of Dax’s voice sounded out from the tiny speaker on her phone. “Willing recording. Code 0-1-5-3-2-6-7-9. Allow access.” There were a few seconds of silence while the little computer reviewed the complicated process Tam had just gone through, before the word ‘Accepted’ flashed up on the little monitor and the interior door slid open.
Tam huffed again, walking through the glass panel and letting it slide shut behind her. She felt more trapped in this damn fortress than she had on that boat. Wolves were not good at being in confined spaces and a boat seemed like hell to her. This ‘house’ felt more like a prison; she had absolutely no idea how Dax managed to live here.
Not wanting to spend any more time here than was necessary, she walked straight into the main room of the building which held all of Dax’s computer equipment. There was a loud frantic beeping coming from the speakers, which did little more than irritate Tam as she searched for his ‘box of spare laptops’.
Christ that beeping was loud enough to wake the dead.
As she searched the house, she found herself processing the information she’d learnt over the last day. How had none of them thought of the Circle using boats before? Seriously, the submarine was a little farfetched but hell; Alison had been taken from the beach. The damn beach! How had they not thought of boats? At least they now had their own boat. They had of course taken the big black beasty from the mini-dock in Chatham and had driven the thing all the way back to Folkestone, where they had paid to dock it in the harbour in town.
Who knew Dax had known how to drive a boat? That man seemed to know everything. And have stupid equipment that just wouldn’t stop beeping.
She stamped her foot in frustration, searching frantically for the source of the noise. It was only then that she noticed the huge map pictured on one of the glass-panelled walls of the room. There was a giant red dot flashing in the centre of the map over the vast ocean. Now what the hell would that mean? It was literally bang smack in the middle of the North Sea, between Denmark and England.
