Calm Before the Storm (5 page)

She couldn’t.

It was inexplicable.

Chapter Five

 

Tyr was reeling from the aftereffects of
that kiss. It had been barely a kiss in fact, more of a caress, but he could
still feel the softness of those gorgeous lips and the warmth of her skin
soaking into his palm where he had touched her arm. “More visitors, Bellor.”

He awoke from reverie to find Aamon Abrasax
and two detectives had entered the room. Unable to contain a rush of pent-up
fury that rose to the fore at the sight of the man who held all the cards in
this scenario, Tyr shot out of his seat and had almost grabbed Abrasax by the
throat before being wrenched back by the two burly detectives.

“That’s not going to help, Bellor!” The one
holding his arms behind his back pushed him around roughly, directing him
toward the chair. “Sit down.”

Aamon Abrasax remained calm. “What an
interesting way you have of greeting a friend!” he said, considering Tyr
thoughtfully. “I’m here to help, you know.” He turned to the detectives. “You
can leave us. Tyr will be fine now.”

“It’s not him we’re worried about,” replied
the detective holding Tyr. “Are you sure he’s not going to attack you again?”

“He was just letting off steam, Detective
Aldhafera, pent-up frustration from being incarcerated. Tyr knows I’m here to
see if we can sort this out and find the real killer.” Aldhafera relaxed his
hold a fraction. “I’m gonna let go, Bellor. Are you cool?”

Tyr nodded, eyes still blazing in Abrasax’s
direction but he needed to hear this so he could work out a game plan. The
pressure left him and he flexed his arms feeling his muscles loosen up. He sat
back in the chair gesturing toward the other. “Have a seat then, Abrasax. Let’s
sort this out.”

Shax nodded at Leo and they must have
decided it was safe so they exited the room, leaving Tyr with the man, no
monster,
he hated more than anything in the whole world.

Abrasax sat back in the chair, calm even
though Tyr’s anger was still evident. He was a big man, nearly as tall as Tyr
though not as broad. His slicked-back hair was dark and cut short at the neck,
his face a strange combination of smooth and hard. Soft lips and cheeks. Hard
eyes of cold blue that sat like icicles chipped into deep, hollow recesses,
carved into a face that was arresting but not handsome.

His thin black moustache was a slash above
his lips, underscored by a goatee that served to ensure a constant sneer that
guaranteed the word “sinister” would be used to describe him. He wore a white
cashmere coat over a black suit with a red tie and like a true gangster of the
1920s carried a black cane topped with an ornate gold handle. Placing the
fedora hat on the table Abrasax withdrew a large cigar from his breast pocket.

“I don’t believe you smoke,” he said,
casually lighting up. “So I won’t feel bad about not offering you one.”

“We wouldn’t want you to feel bad, would
we?” Tyr said, eyeing Abrasax warily. He needed to tread carefully but he also
needed some questions answered. “Why did you kill Sal?” he queried, deciding to
get straight to the point.

“It grieves me much that he is dead.”
Abrasax raised an eyebrow, ignoring Tyr’s directness. “He was my best trainer.
Why do you think he died?”

“Because Sal knew something about me that
you didn’t want me to know.” Tyr crossed his arms holding in the still-raw
throbbing pain of Sal’s death.

Abrasax regarded him carefully. “And why
would you think that?”

“Is that what you always do, counter a
question with a question?” Tyr decided to play him at his own game. Talking to
Abrasax was like playing a game of chess. You had to be two or three moves
ahead to survive.

“What you need to ask yourself, Tyr, is
what I can do to get you out of this little…predicament,” said Abrasax with a
lazy smile. He had taken his gloves off, seemingly relaxed and at ease. Tyr
knew he was about as relaxed as a cobra ready to strike.

It had taken Tyr a while to see through his
gratitude toward this man, for taking him off the street and away from the
spiral of criminality he had fallen into at a young age. He had once thought
Abrasax had saved him, giving him the opportunity to succeed as an athlete.
More recently, he had begun to realize that Abrasax’s image as a legitimate
businessman, running an empire of clubs and property investment, was nothing
more than a façade to cover up his real operations involving drugs, arms
trafficking and fraud. The gangs of feral street kids he appeared to give his
charity to were really another part of his growing army, his to command, and to
Abrasax, Tyr was just another pawn to be sacrificed at will. Just as Sal had
been.

Tyr was not about to give away too much of
what he already knew. Before he died, Sal had promised to reveal some things to
Tyr, things he said Tyr needed to know. He had also intimated that Abrasax was
something other than human, that Tyr was something other than human. This was
the part that had confused Tyr, but watching Abrasax now with his heavy-lidded
blue eyes that suddenly appeared to flash yellow for a fraction of a second, he
had no doubt there was something undeniably
other
under the urbane
façade.

“So, what do you think you can you do for
me?” he asked. He might as well find out what was on the table. Abrasax waved
his hands. “I can make sure all this goes away.”

“For what price?” Tyr demanded.
Nothing
is free
.

“Unswerving loyalty.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means you would swear to do anything I
asked of you.”

“You want me to sell my soul to you?”

“Yes,” Abrasax answered without hesitation.

“Are you the devil?”

Those slashing brows rose with unconcealed
arrogance. “No. I am much worse.” Tyr could believe it. Something about Abrasax
radiated evil. “And if I don’t?”

Abrasax curled his lips. “Have you heard
from Leah? What about Melanie and Delora?” He didn’t need to say more. Tyr knew
his soul was as good as gone. He would have to play along until he could find
out what had happened to Sal’s family. Before he could reply, Abrasax
continued. “I’m sure once you are back with us and all this,” he waved a hand
dismissively, “has gone away, they would love to see you and reminisce.”

Tyr needed some time to work on a battle
plan, so until then it seemed he needed Abrasax on side. “Do what you have to
do,” he said, a dark pit of bile growing in his chest. To protect Sal’s family
he would sell his soul. They had done so much for him. A vision of Mel and Lori
lying on the couch, laughing while they played video games and ate pizza
marched across his brain as the bile intensified. Tyr gritted his teeth, giving
Abrasax nothing more and watched as he left, knowing his own fate and the fate
of his family would depend on his ability to anticipate the next moves.

 

Leaving the building, a smile of smug
satisfaction on his lips, Abrasax reflected that his cause, the Discordant
cause was on track this Realignment. As one of the senior Discordant
commanders, Abrasax was charged with overseeing operations in Western Europe.
The current conflicts stirred up by the forces he controlled was most
encouraging, and not only because they had an identified Esseni in their
clutches.

Bellor had been in their sights for some
time but now, finally they had the leverage they needed to truly control him.
Abrasax detoured toward Detective Shax who was waiting outside and was
indicating with some head tilting that he had news. Shax was one of his most
trusted informants. It was good to have friends in the right places.

“Did you see his aura?” asked Abrasax as he
casually strolled down the steps, Shax at his side sticking to his heels like a
lapdog. Abrasax smiled to himself. Perhaps he would get himself a pet.

“Yes, and there’s something else.” Abrasax
waited, the man seemed excited. Shax continued. “One of the female lawyers is
also Esseni. I saw her aura. It was blue.”

Abrasax was ecstatic. This would be a major
coup. If he could single-handedly bring in a pair of Esseni then the world, no,
the universe would be his oyster.

“Excellent work, Shax. Keep an eye on him
for the Taijitu mark,” he said calmly. It wouldn’t do to appear too overjoyed.
“We will still go for extraction tomorrow. The usual manner. Find out as much
as you can about the girl and keep her under observation.” He nodded at Shax, pulling
on his gloves, his face alight with a satisfied grin as he headed toward the
awaiting Bentley. Time to visit Choronzon.

Chapter Six

 

The Chthonian landscape, headquarters of
the Discordant army and home planet of many species that aligned with the
Discordant cause, was aflame with smoke and fire. Red, scorched rocky terrain,
cracked and parched as far as the eye could see. A burning mass of lava winding
its way down the side of a distant mountain and Abrasax was again reminded of
why he loved his current assignment on Earth.

Chthonia was Hell.

Most free Chthoni couldn’t wait to get away
and many in the Discordant faction couldn’t understand why Choronzon, their
leader, didn’t up sticks and relocate to more salubrious climes. Earth with its
lush vegetation was one of the most popular destinations in the universe and
most Discordants clamored for a posting there. Abrasax had fought tooth and
nail to get his current assignment and it wasn’t one he would give up easily.

Ophiuchus, sister planet of Chthonia, was a
home away from home to the Discordants, similar to Chthonia and occupied by a
rabble of hellraising warlords who lived solely to oppress, kill and sacrifice
others. If you weren’t at the top of the food chain on Ophiuchus, you didn’t
last long.

Of the other inhabited planets in this
quarter, Lyra and Eridanus were fine to visit, having much better climates than
Chthonia, but Eridanus being mostly liquid did pose difficulties for those
without gills or the means to breath underwater. Lyra would have been a good
base of operations but the Discordants only had a small foothold there, the
majority of its populace sitting squarely in the Eunomi camp. It was also the
planet from which the wiccani drew a substantial amount of power, light magick as
opposed to the dark magick of the Discordant warloki. Not a situation he saw
changing in the near future unless his team had a spectacular result this time!

Consequently Earth was the most visited and
coveted. The weak Earthani being relatively easily to manipulate due to their
lack of any magickal power, and their total ignorance of the reality of the
universe making Earth light up like a theme park. And Abrasax intended to enjoy
the ride for as long as possible. A good result during this Realignment and he
might even be promoted.

Abrasax disembarked from the starportal
vortex he had used to travel from Earth to Chthonia feeling pretty pleased with
himself. Discordants 2 Eunomi 0. As far as he knew, his identification of an
Esseni pairing was the first in this current Realignment, which made it all the
more exciting. Although he also knew that this high would soon dissipate when
he confronted Choronzon, Lord of the Abyss, as he demanded to be known.
The
arrogant prick!

Still it was good to know that at this
Realignment, he was on target and set for a triumph. Not like the debacle of
the last one, eight hundred years ago. Still, he would rather not dwell on that
painful period and yes, it had been painful for a couple of hundred years, but
he had somehow clawed his way back up the ranks and now he was going to focus
instead on the good times to come.
Eyes on the prize.

The starportal had brought him close to
Choronzon’s palace, if you could call it that. It was a bizarre structure of
interwoven, bleached bones, amassed to form a circular base, the walls of which
were at least fifty feet high. After entering through the massive archway of
mammoth tusks and the main gate forged out of the shell of a chemosh beast, one
of the hardest substances in the universe, Abrasax found himself a the
bowl-shaped arena. In the center arose a tall, conical-shaped tower, another
mass of interlocking bones from a variety of species both large and small. It
sat, perched above a large pit that spewed red lava and ash, belching up a rancid
stink that had Abrasax gagging before he’d taken even two steps inside.
Choronzon’s Abyss.
A great holiday destination.

Entering, Abrasax passed through three
gateways each guarded by pairs of shedu commonly known as storm demons who were
Choronzon’s minions of choice. They currently appeared as huge gray, scaly
beasts with leathery wings and bull-shaped horns. Abrasax employed a number in
his team on Earth, as they, like him were a species of saevici, creatures with
shapeshifting capabilities, their second skin other humanoid forms. In their
current state their eyes were completely yellow with no pupils and they
delighted in flashing huge razor-sharp fangs at him as he passed by.
Storm
demons. Such poseurs!

Many species in the galaxy had the ability to
change form, however the shedu were unusual in that they were also part
sanguini, blood drinkers. These vampiric tendencies meant that most other
species kept well clear of them. Choronzon however enjoyed using this foible to
his advantage. They didn’t need to kill the creature whose blood they drank but
invariably Choronzon encouraged them to take it the max. Choronzon was all
about excess and liked to remind his guests of that, taking every opportunity
to revel in an overindulgence of debauchery and licentiousness.

Abrasax rolled his eyes as he realized that
Choronzon had also recently redecorated the corridor, which appeared to be
wallpapered from top to bottom with pairs of eyes in various stages of decay,
some of which seemed to follow him as he passed by. The fine hairs on the back
of his neck stood to attention. It was always unnerving approaching Choronzon’s
lair. The Lord of the Abyss did like to make a statement to guests that set
them at a disadvantage, but Abrasax was used to his games and even though the
sight made him nauseous, he fought to control his reaction. There was no way he
would give Choronzon the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.

Having reached the throne room, he was
slightly relieved to see that the décor had not extended to this section of the
palace. In fact, this space was much more hi-tech with a large number of plasma
screens giving Choronzon extended viewing, not only of his torture chambers,
but of a variety of programs from Earth as well as observation points of
Ophiuchus and Lyra.

Choronzon himself was sprawled out across
his throne, which was a construct of skulls, again from a wide variety of
species. A couple of rarog females were in the process of attending to the
needs of various parts of his anatomy. He looked to be enjoying himself as they
undulated with abandon, their tongues licking and sucking across the green and
red scales of his skin. There was nothing Choronzon enjoyed more than putting
on a show for others. Sometimes Abrasax found it hard to believe that Choronzon
was actually his superior. He acted more like a teenage surfer on crack and
that was on a good day.

Abrasax waited until Choronzon opened his
eyes. He squirmed in his shoes while watching those eyes—yellow circles
encasing a red slit, narrowed in pleasure as the females achieved the desired
result. Orgasm over, Choronzon licked his lips, grabbed a female and bit into
her neck sucking and chewing greedily as green blood trickled down his chin. He
tossed her aside and she fell to the ground her body slumped like a ragdoll,
arms and legs askew. The other female did a runner, disappearing off to a side
chamber.
Sensible girl
.

Choronzon kept his attention on Abrasax as
he picked clean his teeth with long, razor-like claws and adjusted his rather
prominent phallus. “Her teeth were too sharp,” he complained, “and she
certainly hadn’t been flossing. I did warn her you know.”

He flicked his fingers toward Abrasax. “Why
are you not in your true form, Abrasax? How many times have I told you,
Earthani form is for Mondays and Thursdays only?”

“Forgive me, Oh Lord of the Abyss.” Abrasax
bowed low, gritting his teeth almost choking on the words. “I have some
important news and in my haste forgot the day. I will endeavour to change if
you require it.”
Please don’t.

Choronzon sighed, rolling his eyes. “This
had better please me or you’re in for a rotation cleaning out the shedu toilets
and you won’t enjoy that. The shedu are full of shit and not particularly well
house trained.” He waved his hand again. “Continue.”

Abrasax took a deep breath. “I have located
two Esseni and they are a pairing. Both are within reach, one as good as yours
already and obtaining the other should not cause a problem.”

“Which pairing?” Choronzon’s red slits
flared with barely contained excitement.

“War and Peace, Sire.” Abrasax announced as
if awaiting a fanfare. Which he didn’t get, as usual. And that was so annoying.

“Hmmm.” Choronzon meditated for a moment
tapping his chin. “Let me think. This reminds me of the last Realignment, eight
hundred years ago, Abrasax, ring any bells?”

No chance you’d forgotten then?
“How so, my Lord?” he countered, chancing his arm.

“I believe you assured me then that you had
contained a certain pairing. You were particularly confident if I remember
rightly, but things did not go according to plan.” Choronzon paused, probably
for effect. “You. Failed. Me.” He enunciated each word through gritted teeth
and leaned forward causing Abrasax to cringe and bow low. Choronzon’s clawed
fingers gripped the arms of the throne, crushing the left side into dust. “You
will not fail me again, will you, Abrasax? Do you know why?”

“No, my lord, I mean yes…” blustered
Abrasax, desperate to claw his way back.
This was meant to be a good day.

“You won’t fail me because you don’t dare
to fail me. How does three hundred years chained in the play pits sound? My
balauri babies are always looking for new playmates. They like fresh blood.
They are particularly fond of kidney and adore raw intestines. They especially
like it when their playmates regenerate so that the fun can start. All. Over.
Again. Get the picture?”

Abrasax nodded. “You have nothing to fear
my lord. The deal’s as good as sealed.”

“Oh, Abrasax,” intoned Choronzon, “I fear
nothing. Just take care to avoid the balauri play date and perhaps I will
reward you with the chance to cause chaos in the Americas. Now go suck those
lovebirds dry. I do so love a happy ending!”

Abrasax turned and left quickly before
Choronzon decided to toy with him as he had the rarog female. Well, not so bad
he thought. A play date with balauri young. Choronzon kept a kindergarten full
of these three-headed dragons, creatures prized not only for the fact that
their saliva could be transformed into rubies if you knew the recipe, but also
because it was incredibly poisonous. One bite from a balauri and chances were
you‘d be dead in no time. Luckily Abrasax’s species had a rare immunity from
which an antidote could be made, although being chewed on relentlessly by them
would be no picnic. At least he would have a chance of surviving the torture.
It could have been worse however. He could have been threatened with doing time
at a balaurimothers’ convention. Now that was a real nightmare. Especially if
they all had pre menstrual tension and once one had it, they would all get it,
female biorhythms being what they are.

As he left, he could hear Choronzon behind
him whining. “Now who’s got the remote? I want to see the latest installment of
Keeping up with the Kardashians
. I do love Kim’s mum. She reminds me so
much of my own dear, sweet mama.”

Teenage surfer on crack, scratch
that—middle-aged mummy’s boy on LSD! Psycho Alert.

Back on Earth, from the penthouse suite of
the Abrasax Tower, with its superior interior décor, Abrasax called together
his own chosen minions to plan an extraction. He needed to ensure that Tyr
Bellor was tied and bound, body and soul and he was going to use all means at
his disposal. If only Sal had not turned soft, letting his affection for the
boy override his Discordant vows, Bellor would have been bagged and tagged by
now. However, this little glitch had enabled him to make contact with Tyr’s
Esseni pairing. Abrasax stared down at the information provided by Shax. Irina
Columba. Lawyer, and to all intents and purposes adopted daughter of Merak
Espenson. And Cassiopeia, like a sister. Well, well, well.
What goes around
comes around.

They must have been shielding her for a
while. He smiled to himself relishing the thought of the upcoming battle.
Abrasax had crossed swords with this pair of Eunomi protectors before. This
time he would ensure it was the last.

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