FIFTY-FOUR

TRUSTING THAT THE large cave running straight into the core of the mountain was the right choice, Rook and Queen pushed forward through the darkness. An occasional fire pit with glowing embers provided the only light. The hiss of the rain and distant blasts of gunfire faded as they descended into the darkness.

They had passed several large rooms early on, each containing massive amounts of building materials. Spools of rope. Stacks of wooden planks. Everything they saw outside was being stored in the large rooms. They’d passed at least ten chambers on each side so far. Now they approached another pair of rooms, one on each side of the cave. With little light, they couldn’t see what was inside these caves, but the darkness within warned of hidden dangers. They continued past the rooms without inspecting their contents.

The cave air felt cool and moist on their skin, clinging to their exposed bodies and chilling them. Rook shivered. “We need to find some clothes.”

“What, now you don’t like seeing me half naked?”

Rook chuckled. “I can’t see anything. Besides, I—”

Queen came to a quick stop and slapped a hand over Rook’s mouth. An orange glow filled the tunnel far ahead. Voices filtered to them from the shifting light. A group approached.

They crouched low and moved back to the short doorway on the left side of the tunnel, entering its dark interior without hesitation. They stepped back into the darkness, listening as the obscure voices grew louder. Suddenly, Rook tensed.

“Give me the knife,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“Give me the knife.” Rook’s voice chilled the air further. “Now.” He felt the handle bump his arm as Queen handed it to him, holding the blade in her hand. He took it and squeezed the handle.

“What do you hear?”

The voices came louder now, each distinct. At least two female hybrids. Three males. And someone else. “Weston,” Rook growled.

Weston’s voice echoed up the tunnel. “Check all the rooms. I want them found. Start here and work your way through the old and new cities. I want all of them found.”

Rook shook his head. They would be searching this room. Despite his overwhelming desire to see Weston pay for what had happened to Bishop, he would have preferred avoiding this fight, especially with the odds stacked so high against him.

“How do you want to do this?” Queen asked.

“Alone,” Rook said. “It’s a fight we can’t win, but at least one of us can survive. Find King and Pawn. Get the hell out. Complete the mission. They’ll need you, and I need to do this for Bishop. He was my brother.”

The light began spilling into the doorway. Rook looked back and saw Queen’s face, her body crouched, ready to attack. She wasn’t listening. Confident the loud, agitated voices of the hybrids explaining an ongoing attack to Weston would mask his voice, Rook spoke. “And you’re my sister.” Queen looked him in the eyes. “You know how I feel about my sisters, Queen.”

Queen’s jaw flexed as she bit down. Then she slid into the darkness.

He whispered, “Find King. Save Sara. That’s the mission.”

The voices outside rose in volume.

“It was a feeble attack, Father, easily defeated.” The deep voice, clear and close, filled the room. “Their advance was paused. We have them surrounded.”

“And yet we lost three sentries!” Weston’s voice roared in the cave. “They’re nearly on top of us and I promise you there are more. These are not simple soldiers. You would do well to remember that.”

“The Americans were better, and where are they, Father?” The voice of the male hybrid grew arrogant as the group stopped in front of the doorway. The large male confronted Weston. “Two are trapped in Meru and the others are scattered!”

“I killed one by the river!” Lucy said, bouncing in a crouched position.

Weston’s hand appeared on the large male’s shoulder. “Shane, you are my oldest son, my bravest warrior. But you must trust me. You do not know the humans as I do. They outnumber us and have weapons that can destroy us all. Until they are gone from this jungle, we are not safe. Think of your people before you act, Shane, and do not underestimate your adversaries . . . ever.”

As Weston finished speaking, he gave Shane a pat on the shoulder. Then the large male stepped to the side, revealing Weston to Rook . . . and Rook to Weston.

“Shane!” Weston cried out as Rook bolted forward, flinging the spear and diving out with the knife.

As Rook launched himself through the air, swiping the knife toward Weston’s throat, a large force struck him in the side, sending him crashing into the cave wall. The knife fell from his hand and clattered to the cave floor.

Queen watched from the darkness as the four remaining hybrids surrounded Rook. He’d been hit by Shane as he’d twisted and struck out upon hearing Weston’s fearful voice, but Shane had also taken Rook’s flung spear in the chest. The large male hit the cave floor at the same time Rook did, except Shane no longer stirred.

Weston dove to his fallen son’s side, feeling for a pulse on his thick, hairy neck. “No, no, no!” But there was no pulse. The sharp spear, flung by Rook’s strong arm at point-blank range, had pierced the giant’s clavicle and heart beneath. Weston stood, breathed deep, and choked back a sob. He turned toward Rook, took hold of the spear rising from Shane’s chest, and yanked it out with a bloody slurp. He stormed toward Rook, who was nearly back to his feet.

Lucy lunged and swiped at Rook. He fell back in front of the doorway opposite Queen’s hiding place. “Get the hell away from me, Cha-Ka!”

Weston made a sharp sipping noise with his mouth. The four hybrids instantly backed off, though they still surrounded Rook. Weston approached, spear in hand. “Cha-Ka. That’s funny.”

“Go to hell,” Rook said.

“I used to love that show,” Weston said. Then he screamed, raised the spear over his head, and brought it down.

Before the spear reached Rook’s chest, a large hand swept out from the dark, striking the wood of the spear and snapping it in half. Everyone froze for a beat. Rook looked up at Weston’s bewildered expression and realized they were thinking the same thing: What the fuck was that?

And then, all hell broke loose. Five-foot tall, fur-covered bodies flew from the cave. The hybrids roared as they were tackled by their grandmothers. Lucy squealed and dove away from the action. She cowered against the wall, farther down the tunnel. The others were quickly subdued, each being pinned down by two of the full-blood Neanderthals.

Then Red stepped from the darkness, her yellow eyes glowing in the firelight. She stepped over Rook, showing no fear of him, and approached Weston. Her head twitched as she spoke. “Big man. Mine. I find him first. He mine.”

Weston stared into the red-rimmed eyes that had changed his world fifteen years ago. She had saved his life, albeit unknowingly, and had given him a family to replace the one he’d lost. That’s why he’d let her live. In return he was bringing her people back from extinction—something she couldn’t comprehend, but instinctually knew. That’s why she let him live.

But if Red wanted Rook alive . . . the big man . . . she could only want him for one thing. The truce would be broken.

Competition, while good for business, never helped repopulate a species on the brink. But he had no choice at the moment. Red acted on instinct more than any kind of mental process. She was in heat and wanted to mate. She’d found an acceptable mate in this large and loud soldier and had pursued him into the very stronghold of her ancestors.

Weston looked at Rook and saw horror just beneath the surface. Whatever the old hags would do to him would be a fate far worse than death. “Take him,” Weston said. “My gift to you.”

He would take care of the old mothers later. Right now he just needed them out of his way.

Red huffed, spun around, and picked up Rook with little effort. She heaved him over her squat frame and carried him off into the darkness from which she had emerged. The others followed her. Rook’s angry shouts and vile cursing faded into the distance as the group retreated through one of the many secret tunnels crisscrossing throughout the mountainside.

A distant shout sounded from the direction Queen and Rook had come. Queen couldn’t make out the word, but the tone smacked of alarm.

“Come!” Weston said, and the band rushed toward the cave exit, carrying Shane’s body and leaving behind a still-burning torch and King’s knife.

Rook’s last words rolled out of the darkness, incoherent and pained. Then he was gone, abducted into the heart of the mountain by a bunch of ancient monsters. Queen stood in the darkness. Her arms shook. Her breath was heavy. Bishop was dead. Rook would be soon. He would kill himself before letting those things do whatever they had planned. Or he’d fight until they had no choice but to kill him.

Her mind returned to the mission. The Nguoi Rung named Shane had talked about two humans being trapped in Mount Meru. She wasn’t sure where that was, but suspected it was back the way they’d come. She scoured the tunnel for movement or signs of danger. The firelight and angry voices from Weston’s crew faded as they hurried on their way. She picked up the torch left behind and retrieved King’s KA-BAR knife. As she turned to start deeper into the cave a glitter of light caught her eye. It came from the room inside which she and Rook had hid inside.

She paused and stepped back into the room. Her eyes grew wide as a treasure beyond all comparison became revealed in the light of the torch.

“Son of a bitch.” Queen’s anger quickened her pulse to a point where she could feel it thumping bursts of pain across her branded forehead. If they’d only seen what this room contained a few minutes earlier, Rook wouldn’t have been captured.