They were close enough to their destination to be recognized by those who frequented this area of the red zone. Rebekka moved into the middle of the street so they could be seen and use the fear of the vice lord Allende to keep them safe the remaining distance. Most knew she was under Allende’s protection when she worked in the Were brothels, and viewed Levi as her bodyguard.
Cyrin and Canino stayed lost in deep shadow but Rebekka could sense where they were. Intensified by proximity to the maze, their desire to kill licked at her like hot flames and erupted into action when she and Levi rounded the corner and were rushed by five strangers, three of them armed with heavy iron pipes.
Cyrin and Canino reacted instantly, without offering warning. In a bounding run Cyrin knocked the first of the pipe-wielding men down.
A sickening crunch marked the crushing of a skull and the first death.
It was followed by a second, and a third.
By a shriek of terror as Canino dragged the man who’d grabbed Rebekka’s arm to the ground and mauled him as the fifth fled.
It was over in seconds. The attack and counterattack so fast Rebekka barely had time to understand what was happening.
Out of sight, an engine roared to life and a vehicle sped off, leaving the dead behind. By daybreak the corpses would be gone, taken care of by the creatures who ruled the night.
Levi rifled through the dead men’s pockets and found nothing. He joined Rebekka, taking her arm and allowing her only a quick glimpse of the bodies before urging her forward, forcing her into a run that kept her from trembling in reaction to the sudden shock of violence.
“Did you recognize them?” he asked.
“No. But if I saw the one who got away again, I would. He had a birthmark on the left side of his face, a port-wine stain.”
Canino edged closer, flanking her. Cyrin did the same for his brother.
“Who do you think sent them?” she asked.
“The Church maybe, if they’re still trying to recapture Tir. Or the vice lords who own the gaming clubs. There are cameras in the maze. Before it was destroyed we might have been seen freeing the animals and leaving with Cyrin and the others.”
They reached the first of the Were brothels connected to others by secure passageways. Rebekka gave Levi a hug, her stomach cramping at the thought of him out in the night, trapped in human form. “Go.”
“You first. Make sure Feliss knows I’ll be back as soon as I see Cyrin home.” He hugged Rebekka against him before she could step away. “Don’t leave the brothel. You’re safe there, even from the other vice lords.”
“I won’t.”
Caphriel’s Pawn
THE cool evening air brought the sound of wolves howling in the distance and the nerve-racking yipping of coyotes. Goose bumps pimpled Radek’s skin at hearing them so close to the encampment with the arrival of night.
“Filthy beasts,” he muttered, casting an involuntary glance at the concertina wire stretched along the tops of the walls. It, and the threat posed by machine gun-carrying humans, was the primary defense against being overrun by Weres.
By law, this area was his now to salvage in—as long as he could hold it. But he was well aware of being deep in hostile lands.
Anger flashed through Radek. He shouldn’t have to scurry around like a man afraid of his shadow. By rights the entire encampment should be bright with light. He shouldn’t have to pay the Ivanov militiamen premium wages to patrol by lantern light in groups, gossiping and joking at his expense.
Radek purposely slowed his pace, not wanting to show any fear to the conscripted criminals and poor human trash who made up his workforce, or to the militiamen who answered to his father, or to the handful of guardsmen who probably spied for the other Founding Families of Oakland.
The scent of fresh-cut timber drew him to a shored-up opening leading downward, into space no human had been in for hundreds of years until he was responsible for it being unearthed. Pride filled him. Satisfaction coursed through his veins.
He’d done what he’d set out to do. After years of collecting and studying texts created in the days before The Last War, he’d identified the site of a laboratory dedicated to energy-related technology.
The bitter taste of having to grovel for money to fund this expedition into Were lands filled Radek’s mouth for an instant, only to be replaced by the sweetness of success as he relived the moment when the overseer’s shout called him to where tons of broken concrete had been cleared to reveal a hollowed-out spot and a safe still set in what had once been a wall.
It took a full day and almost every laborer in the encampment to get the safe out. Another to get it open and locked in the privacy of the building he’d claimed as his own. He was still going over the contents on the computer storage drives, the files upon files of schematics and designs for harnessing energy.
Much of it was useless, the technology no longer in existence to produce the parts or even the plants necessary to create them, but some of it, enough of it, was clearly viable—not in his hands; he had no desire to manage a commercial empire, but in a buyer’s . . .
A surreptitious glance and Radek found Captain Nagy, his brother’s loyal dog, leaning against a building, cigarette tip glowing red in the growing darkness. No doubt he’d already managed to get word of the safe to Viktor.
Radek laughed softly, imagining Viktor’s face turning furiously red as he desperately tried to outbid those gathered at an auction—only to lose.
Or perhaps not.
It would be immensely satisfying to sell whatever information and physical items were salvaged here to the family, taking back a share of the profits they later generated by it and making it a condition that each month, Viktor, his father’s smug, condescending heir, had to personally deliver Radek’s due.
With a smile on his face Radek turned away from the opening. There was plenty of time to consider the best way to handle the gold mine of information contained in the safe. This was only the very beginning of the discoveries. So far his workers had excavated just a small part of what he knew lay beneath the rubble of the valley floor.
As he neared the building housing the prostitutes whose contracts he’d purchased from a vice lord in the red zone, the guard captain, Orst, emerged. Radek braced himself. It was too much to hope he was there to make use of the women.
When Orst hailed him, Radek stopped rather than be followed back to his quarters and have his work interrupted. He didn’t trust anyone in camp when it came to the contents of the safe, wouldn’t have allowed the guard’s presence at all if it hadn’t been a requirement attached to using the convicts. That it had been a requirement only served to make him more suspicious.
If his brother-in-law Felipe were still running the guard—
But then Felipe and Ilka had played one time too many in the Oakland red zone. They’d become part of the entertainment when they were tossed out of Sinners, the club they favored.
A fitting end, Radek thought. They were savaged by werewolves and feral dogs as the gathered crowd sipped brightly colored drinks and watched from the safety of the old Victorian house.
Another strain of coyote song pierced the evening air. Radek shivered before he could stop himself. “What is it?” he snapped, irritated at having shown any reaction.
Captain Orst’s expression remained flawlessly neutral. A feat in itself , Radek thought sourly, considering the pole that must be rammed up the man’s ass.
“The prostitutes tell me one of them has been missing for over a day. Apparently she was called from their quarters to service a convict yesterday morning and didn’t return. The man in question is also absent. His foreman says he reported it to you. Under the terms of the conscription contract you were supposed to inform the guard immediately.”