Number of the Beast (Paladin Cycle, Book One) (34 page)

The eyes
blinked. Bloody, blue lips parted as it spoke.
“Y
augass Paladinassi! Ssingoi-ssee
Ska'thassass!
”

He swung his sword, slicing the head
from crown to chin, splitting it open. A dozen tiny tendrils at the
tip of the slug’s tail had been tangled into the host’s brain. Only
one half of the split head fell to the floor, the tail kept a tight
grasp on the other half, and Atticus could clearly see the
remaining brain matter.

The front of the creature, hovering
close to the ceiling, harpooned itself straight into Atticus’
chest.

The serpent’s head
burrowed itself below the V of his neck digging through his leather
vest and under his padding. Teeth tore at Atticus’ right nipple and
chest. He ground out a scream. Forced to drop his sword, Atticus
wrapped both hands around the cold, smooth worm. He yanked the
serpent from his body, but not without the creature rending
flesh.

He flung it to the floor
and with his boot stomped on the slug’s knob-like head. Atticus
twisted his foot, crushing the skull.

When he lifted his boot the worm’s
skin flashed pale blue before it shot from the house.

Atticus checked his wound and saw it
was only a superficial injury. He gathered his sword and gave
chase.

Outside the night was
still. The sting in his calf where the time spider had bit him
throbbed. Rubbing his leg, he spotted a faint trail of blood
leading down the road.

The trail soon went cold near some
woods at the corner of the property.

When Atticus turned around, he spotted
a man hiding in the shadows of a narrow alleyway.

“
You,” he shouted. “Did
you see a snake come this way?”

The man waved Atticus
closer.

Sword drawn, Atticus approached the
shadowed figure.

The stranger wore black
sweat pants and a matching oversized T-shirt. A cap bearing the
logo of the Houston Astros was tipped low to cover his eyes. He
held a plastic-bottled drink. “Lower your weapon, friend. I mean
you no harm.”

Isaac’s car sped from his
mansion, spitting gravel into the wind. He’d returned home to find
Lynn gone. Ira said she’d went to see her mother. His mate, the
whelp that she was, was unaware her mother was actually a Nacilla
worm in a human host. The Nacilla should already have been assigned
to a new location—not of this planet—and a new cub to
rear.

If the Nacilla still remained, Lynn’s
primal territorial instincts could drive her to injure or most
likely rip the Nacilla’s mortal shell to shreds. His mate was alone
in a world she no longer understood. Enemies she knew nothing of
hunted her, and her reckless impulses risked leading them to her.
Isaac gripped the steering wheel tighter and leaned on the
gas.

As he sped toward
Lovecraft Lane, a pungent scent filled the car. Isaac jerked the
wheel and brought the car to a stop on the shoulder. He jumped out
and sniffed the air.

His nose served as a
compass. Shifting into his natural form, his clothes ripping away
from his body. His muscles morphed, growing leaner; his teeth
sharpened and his skin sprouted thick, black fur. Spreading his
wings, he charged into the sparse woods and rushed on all fours
through the thicket of trees and shrubs. He burst through the dense
greenery, across the highway and took flight.

Ignoring the polluting
scent of diesel fuel from an eighteen-wheeler below, he reveled in
her essence. His cock throbbed with anticipation. A growl echoed
against the night sky.

He soared at tree height
and spotted Lynn on a motorcycle speeding along a back road. Her
sobs were barely audible over the roaring engine and wind in his
ears.

Isaac’s eyes glowed red as he dived
and snatched Lynn from the bike. The Harley skidded, an unguided
missile, crashing into the edge of the woods and erupting into a
chaotic scream of bending steel, bramble and shattering
force.

Lynn’s yelp of surprise and protest
echoed amongst the cries of a flock of blackbirds. Her feet
dangled, swinging wildly.

He swooped, descending
into the heart of Sacred Oaks. Before he touched ground, he dropped
Lynn onto the field. And when he landed, he shifted to
human.

Naked and furious.

He stepped toward her; she
stepped backward, her hands raised. Bitterness growled from his
throat as his bare feet crunched the dry grass. “You were forbidden
to leave the mansion.” He towered over her. Anger boiled deep, body
temperature rising. The skin on his forearms and thighs
bubbled.

Lynn wiped tears from her
cheeks. She shook her head. “I...I just wanted to say
goodbye....then she told me to leave and that she never wanted to
see me again.”

His mate shuddered and Isaac struggled
to control his resolve not to string her from the nearest tree. He
reminded himself she was still a whelp, young and naive.

“
She was my mother,” Lynn
cried. “But she talked to me as if I was a stranger.”

Frothy saliva dripped from
his bared canines. He leaned close to her ear. With a snort, he
said, “Your caregiver knew she was in danger.” A roar welled from
the pit of his being.

His mate stepped back, covering the
sides of her face with her hands.

“
Ira told you it was
forbidden to seek out your mother, yet you did it, and endangered
both of us.”

The beast struggled to break through
his human form. Claws returned to his fingertips. He gripped her by
the neck, lifting her from the ground. Her feet swung while her
hands clutched at his forearms.

“
You will not disobey me
again.”

His mate closed her eyes and managed a
slight nod and whimper.

“
In time, you will come to
know why obeying me is important for our survival. It is the way of
the Geminus. I am the master of all creatures large and small,
including you.”

With a flick of his wrist,
he slung her into a tree. She grunted as her body rolled down the
trunk. Lying face first in the grass, he picked her up by her hair
and held her at eye level, feet inches off the ground. “You are
mine. And you will do as I command.”

Another nod. More tears.

Lowering her to her feet, he palmed
the back of her head and forced her to her knees.

She moaned as he thrust
her head to the ground, in a low bow. With her face pushed against
the top of his bare feet, he said, “You understand me?”

As she planted kisses on top of his
feet, her essence rolled off her in waves, a delicious scent that
shot straight to his cock.

With another growl, he
said, “Time to complete the fusing.” From around his neck, he
removed the black Narkush stone Galmoria had given him. The stone
glowed, pulsing like an organ. He shoved the jewel into her chest.
It burned into her flesh.

Lynn howled.

But it only took seconds
before the stone was implanted securely into her skin.

“
One final step remains
before your Vixenhood is upon you.”

Trumpets should have
resounded and festivities should have been planned to celebrate the
glorious birth of a Vixen, but fate had other plans—a private
ceremony deep within the forest.

His mate looked up,
bewilderment clear in her expression. Isaac offered his hand and
she quickly accepted. Lifting her to her feet, he eyed her red silk
gown. The flimsy material clung to her breasts and hips. A deep
rumble vibrated from his core. She responded with her own satisfied
purr.

Wings grew from her back and the dress
shed from her body. Her nose elongated, a beautiful, magnificent
snout. Fur blanketed her body. Complete in her metamorphosis, she
stood on four legs, snorted and shook her head.

Isaac morphed into his natural form.
With an approving snort, he circled her, lips dripping with saliva,
cock dripping with seed.

He sprang, tackling her. They rolled
across the earth. With a snapping jaw, Isaac nipped at her neck
while his paws parried her retaliating swipes.

From his nostrils, a heated snarl
exploded. With one mighty jump he mounted her back and bit into her
shoulder, pinning her in place.

And then he thrust, burying himself
inside her, taking his Vixen as his mate. A prideful baying came
from deep within his abdomen.

A pack of coyotes howled. A flock of
crows cawed. Swarms of locust and insects hissed and chattered. The
forest shook, a concert of animal and vermin alike.

A warm, humid breeze swirled and a
cyclone of wind embraced him and his mate. Elemental air guarded
their sacred consummation. Lightning flickered across the now
blackened sky. Webs of electricity drew the archaic symbol of the
Geminus.

The animals. The vermin. The winds.
The lightning. Isaac and his mate had their celebration after
all.

As his seed streamed inside of her, he
licked the fur on the back of her neck. The barbs in his tongue
drew a line of blood in her leathery skin.

Both his mate and he,
shifted into humanoid form. Isaac kissed her gently and stood.
“Come with me, my eternal mistress, we must find The Beloved—and
your new vessel.”

# # #

With the back of his
gloved hand, Shane wiped sweat from his forehead. He glanced at the
eerie lightening in the darkening sky. “Not this freaky shit
again.” His breath controlled and steady, he danced around the
canvas bag hung from the weeping willow. “So the next time one of
those jack-offs gives you any grief,” Shane said, jabbing the bag
with several rapid punches, “you lay their ass out just like I
taught you.” He tossed his gloves to the ground and from a low
branch plucked his shirt. Rubbing sweat and dirt from his bare
chest, he added, “Got it?”

“
Yeah. Sure.” Scooter
nodded.

The kid hadn’t exerted enough energy
to even break a sweat. He couldn’t teach him more lethal moves,
like how to strike the nose with a flat-handed jab, or where the
vital pressure points were, but the basics would do. For
now.

“
Why do people have to
fight?” Scooter pulled his gloves off. “Why can’t people be smarter
than that?”

Shane sighed. “America
wouldn’t even exist if no one fought and stood up for their
principles.”

“
Was it principles
Americans were protecting when they stole this land from the
Natives?”

“
I’m not looking to debate
the morality of war. I just don’t want people beating on you for
the rest of your life and I want you to want that too.”

“
I do want it.”

“
Prove it.” With a lift of
his chin, Shane gestured to the gloves on the ground. “Put those
back on. Let’s go another twenty minutes.”

The sound of a small
engine rumbled in the distance. Birch’s motorcycle sped down the
driveway. He killed the engine, set the kickstand and dismounted.
Lifting his Marvin the Martian helmet off, he asked, “We
riding?”

“
Just teaching Scooter how
to beat some ass. Say, Jamie-boy, you look like a punkass, can
Scooter show you what he’s learned?”

Birch craned his neck. He
took a goofy stance and formed a blade-hand. “Waa yah! Young
grasshoppers must know to not start fights that they cannot win.
And Scooter-son may well perish if he dare touches Sensei
Birch.”

Scooter laughed.

“
How the fuck did I end up
with you two weirdos?” Shane shook his head.

“
Is Master Baker not
pleased?” Birch bowed.

Shane thumped Birch’s
skull. “Never lower your eyes to the enemy, dumbass.” He waved
Scooter off. “We’re done for today.” When Scooter was out of
hearing range, he said, “Not sure I’m up for riding.”

Birch sat on the hood of
Shane’s truck, his boots braced on the front bumper. “What plagues
thee, Master Baker?”

Shane eyed Birch.

“
Too much. Got it.” Birch
held up his hands. “Toning it down.”

“
Not in the mood. Not
today.”

“
Let’s play a game.” Birch
hopped from the hood and onto his bike. “Bet I got you
beat.”

“
You lost me.”

“
Bet my life sucks more
than yours.”

“
Sure. I’ll
play.”

Birch put his helmet on
and started the engine. “My wife is fucking my brother. How’s that
for messed up?”

Shane pictured himself
wringing that cheating bitch’s neck. He took a deep breath, trying
to cool his temper. Not what Birch needed right now. “Amy’s as
crazy as Aunt Carol. She’s hearing voices.”

“
Fucked up, but no
contest. I got you beat.”

Shane concentrated on the edge of
Sacred Oaks, but all he saw was his fist pounding a faceless,
imaginary man. A man named Tobias.

Birch killed the engine.
“Voices, huh?”

“
Yeah,” Shane said. “She’s
losing it.”

“
Ya think it’s that
schizophrenic stuff?”