Читать онлайн «The Immortal Crown»

Mae Koskinen was one of her country’s most elite soldiers. She’d excelled enough in her early training to be hand-selected for the Praetorian Guard, a regiment of warriors whose lethal training was enhanced by small, high-tech arm implants that used natural endorphins to increase speed and strength. From that distinguished tier, she’d gone on to join a secret government mission involving the improbable—yet alarmingly real—return of supernatural forces to the world, putting her face to face with atrocities and wonders her fellow countrymen would never have believed. There was no one else in a position quite like Mae’s, no one who’d seen the things she had. She was feared by ordinary people. She was feared by her own military.

“So why,” she muttered to herself, “am I always breaking up bar fights?”

The well-dressed answer, she knew, stood a few steps behind her, staying out of the way as she swung a bar stool at a furious man who was charging her with more emotion than skill. The stool broke into pieces as it made contact, knocking him backward to land on the dirt- packed floor with a thump. He lay there, momentarily dazed, and Mae used the opportunity to quickly scan the rest of the room. Thankfully, none of his cronies seemed too eager to join the fray in their fallen comrade’s place. The implant had Mae churning with fight-or-flight chemicals, and as much as she might have actually enjoyed further altercation, she knew the smart thing to do was to get out of here while they still could. Their mission parameters always advised discretion, and they’d kind of blown it this time.

She tossed the splintered bar stool leg on the floor and turned to the man standing behind her. “Come on, let’s go. ”

Dr.

“Really?” she snapped, once they were outside. “Is it possible for you to go one day without hitting on someone?”

”That girl?” He sounded legitimately offended. “I wasn’t hitting on her. I was just making conversation while I waited for my drink. How was I to know her boyfriend would flip out?”

Mae said nothing as they hurried through the busy, dusty streets. Part of her was too angry to respond to his excuses. The rest of her was too focused on their surroundings, as she scouted around them for any signs of danger. No matter how many times she left her homeland in the Republic of United North America, she never quite got used to the shocking and often primitive differences found in the provinces. Nassua was no exception. It was like something out of a movie, with dirt-filled streets crowded with pedestrians, horses, and bicycle taxis. Street vendors hocked their wares, and many sets of eyes followed Mae and Justin. She knew they stood out, not just because of their lighter complexions but also because of their clothing and general healthy appearance. The Bahamas had had a mostly African-descended population when religious extremists had unleashed the Mephistopheles virus on the world a century ago. Countries with diverse genetic backgrounds had shown greater resistance to the virus, but being on an island had cut the Bahamans off from the chance of mixing with other gene pools. As a result, many had died from the virus, and those who’d survived had passed on Cain, Mephistopheles’ hereditary parting gift that marked its victims with hair and skin damage, infertility, and asthma.