Number of the Beast (Paladin Cycle, Book One) (41 page)

With his back toward them, Abe lifted
a hand over his head and waved. “I’ll be by later to check on her.
Sure hope she’s alright.”

As Abe disappeared
outside, Shane thundered, “Fuck!” With both fists, he pounded the
Coca-Cola machine. When the face of the machine shattered, when his
knuckles bled and even when his vision went red, he kept
hitting...again...and again... 

Carmen and Birch shouted but their
voices sounded distant. Shane grabbed for the vending machine and
tipped it over. Birch and Carmen darted out of the way. Chips and
candy bars spilled onto the floor along with shards of
glass.

Several orderlies ran into the
room.

Shane clipped one in the jaw and sent
him to his ass.

Three men in scrubs struggled to
restrain him. One yelled, “Tranq!”

Shane felt a prick in his left
shoulder.

“
I’m gonna beat all you
muther—” Shane’s legs became jelly. The room spun.  Voices
dimmed, now even more distant and incoherent.

And then...

Isaac lay sprawled on the floor of his
master chamber, wide jungle leaves beneath him. Dozens of exotic
jungle trees and bushes surrounded the edges of the room, creating
an artificial environment. Had it not been for his hellion
offspring he would surely have died and rotted in the
woods.

And his mate would’ve died shortly
after.

It was unclear how long he had been
lying unconscious before opening his eyes and realizing he was back
in the mansion, his temporary lair while in the realm of
Texas.

Texas,
he scowled.
Forsaken refuge of wretched
mortals!

Galmoria had promised to
make him King of the Beasts, giving him domination over all realms
and all the Zodiac tribes. He would reign with pride and serve his
mother well, but this land called Texas was a prick in his thumb,
an insignificant realm littered with imbecilic and primitive human
peoples.

Once he found and recovered his twin,
he would leave this place. But not before devouring the Paladin
that scorched him.

He needed little more than to feed and
bed his Lynn. But where was she? With Amy’s people?

Galmoria had informed him of Amy’s
habits, where she worked, how old she was, where she lived and who
she fucked. Was Lynn with Amy’s mate?

Isaac’s head lolled. A low rumble
vibrated from deep within. If the man tainted Lynn, he would skin
the male alive and chew on his bones.

A pungent scent of burnt flesh mixed
with sweet acai permeated the room, with a foulness that induced
vomiting. Air squeezed from his lungs in shallow gasps. He coughed
and choked. Chunks of half-digested deer spilled onto the
foliage.

Whatever had attacked him had wielded
cosmic flames like nothing he’d ever encountered. The fires of his
assailant made the holy flames of angels cool in comparison.
Geminus were of the strongest among the tribes, but Isaac had been
reduced to a crisp shell by a single strike.

He could stand and he could walk, but
his essence felt sapped. The energy strained to mend his ruined
body. He was as weak as a mortal man, he thought with a snort. Now,
in his current state, even a gunshot to the gut would put him down
just as it would a doe.

“
Master Isaac,” Ira
whispered from near a fig tree. “You have awoken!” She glided
closer, but he shot a hand out.

“
At bay,” he snapped. “I
need no assistance.”

“
Yes, Master.”

Isaac struggled, writhing and
squirming, and managed to rise to a standing position. Craning his
neck, he exhaled loudly. “You did well.” If it hadn’t been for
Ira’s cunning illusion then his mate would certainly be dead or the
very least critically wounded, but it had all been part of
Galmoria’s test. “You served me well.”

“
My honor and my pleasure,
Master.” She bowed.

“
I must find my
mate.”

Isaac slipped a new suit from a hanger
in his closet. Each piece of clothing clung to his blistered,
pus-ridden limbs. Grimacing, he ground his teeth. “I have given her
a new vessel to occupy. But it is crucial that I find her, for she
will come into heat soon and require my seed.” He shuddered. “If
she cannot acquire my seed she will become frenzied.”

“
You cannot leave yet,
Master,” Ira begged, shaking her head. “You are far too weak.” Ira
reached out to steady him.

“
I have no choice.” He
flicked his skeletal hand at her. “Lynn’s essence will send the
local humans into chaos. It will be Sodom and Gomorrah in
Texas.”

“
What do you care of this
Texas?”

Isaac took a cautious
step. “Chaos will attract the attention of the ill-begotten
slayers. I must find her before they do.”

Ira floated in front of him. “I beg
you Master! You should not leave your haven.”

Isaac snarled, his arms twisted and
bent, his gait wobbly. “Move out of my way.” He fell onto his face.
Wetness bloomed across his forehead and cheeks and he tasted blood.
Muscles and tendons screamed with renewed pain. He hissed and
howled.

Isaac pushed himself,
strained and summoned all his might but only managed to roll to his
side. “She won’t make it without me, Ira. She needs me.”

Ira knelt beside him. “You will only
bring about your own death if you try to leave. Let me fetch
Mistress Lynn for you.”

Isaac closed his eyes and breathed
deep. “She will be rabid with lust and possessiveness. The moment
you turn corporal to grab her, she will destroy you like paper
mache. A vixen in heat cannot be reasoned with.” He coughed and
vomited pieces of reddish-brown goo. “I cannot send you. I would be
sentencing you to your final death.”

Ira nodded, for all wraiths knew the
Geminus possessed the power to banish them back to Purgatory in an
excruciating fashion, even recently born vixens like his twin
possessed the innate ability.

Isaac motioned Ira
forward.

Ira offered herself as a crutch and
wobbled Isaac to the greenery where he had lay earlier. “What of
Lynn? What do we do?”

“
We wait until I am well
enough to pursue and meet her need. Until then, may whatever god
the humans pray to bless this wretched land of Texas.”

Scooter turned off the
television and shuffled into his bedroom. Knights and soldiers
readied for battle, strategically placed on the white card table,
waiting for Scooter’s next command. Centered on the battlefield was
a clock tower, along with two die cast car models. Scooter recalled
Amy’s expression of confusion as she listened to him explain the
rules and her teasing that it was a kid’s game.

He paced around the table,
eyeing the soldiers, the structures and the ‘69 model Corvette
parked in the shadow of the clock tower. The scales didn’t match so
the car was actually five times wider than the clock
tower.

Scooter held the car at eye-level. The
blue flame sticker on the sides of the car were wrinkled and
crooked. What must Amy’s car look like? Was it as crumpled as the
sticker on this model car?

How bad was she hurt?

Who hurt her?

Would she die?

What would Amy’s death do to his
brother?

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he
let out a deep groan.

Amy wasn’t going to die. She couldn’t
die. If she did Shane would become more of a jerk and be
unbearable. Scooter would have to stay in L.A. permanently. The
thought made Scooter want to hit something. But that was Shane’s
style, not his. And Shane was the last person in this world Scooter
wanted to emulate.

Shane was arrogant.

Crude.

Impulsive.

Selfish.

Reckless.

And if something happened
to Amy...Shane would be devastated. He had been beating himself up
for years since the accidental death of their sister. Shane never
spoke to Scooter about it, but Amy had told him the story in
private a couple years ago, after Shane had gotten real drunk and
started throwing tools and screaming for no reason. Scooter had
only been five when the accident occurred, and his parents had
shielded his young ears from the true reason behind Victoria’s
death. He could barely remember anything about his sister, but the
accident had obviously affected Amy a great deal.

For a flicker of a moment, Scooter
thought about falling to his knees and praying to God. But he knew
that was a useless gesture. Only the doctors could save her now.
 

Scooter closed his eyes. Gripping the
model car in his fist, he pictured their small-town church filled
to capacity. Neighbors, diners from Roxy’s, Mike Bullock from the
Rising Bull, and Carmen and Shane all readying to say goodbye to
the most beautiful, intelligent, sensitive and fun person he’d ever
known.

Ivory satin coddled Amy’s lifeless
body. The capering flames of candle light shimmered off the black
casket. Stillness would forever afflict her sexy body.
 

Still circling the table with the
pride of a wealthy collector eyeing his trove, Scooter scoped the
mock battleground and the knights and army soldiers, all prepared
for war.

He gave the Corvette a
hard shove. It rolled over a squad of soldiers but stopped in front
of a tall metal figurine. Scooter focused on the single black
knight that stood alone on the corner of the battlefield. Red eyes
and a sharp scythe defiantly challenged Scooter’s bad mood. Those
red eyes glared at him as if looking for an answer. But what was
the question?

His cell
rang. Zack’s ring tone. “Sympathy for the Devil” by the
Rolling Stones.

Zack said, “Ready to
battle for the fate of the universe?”

“
I can’t tonight. Amy was
in an accident.”

“
Dang dude. That sucks.
Why don’t you come stay over?”

“
Sorry but not
tonight.”

“
You know I’m always here
for you, dude. We’ll get through this together.”

“
Thanks,” Scooter said. “I
just wish I knew if she was okay. If I could just talk to
her.”

“
You can talk to me,” Zack
snapped.

Taken aback, Scooter said, “I know.
And I don’t take that for granted.”

“
Don’t you trust
me?”

“
Of course,” Scooter said,
feeling strangely defensive.

If it wasn’t for Zack,
Scooter would’ve been eating lunch in the corner alone for the last
two years of high school and been the biggest dweeb at Buckeye
High. Somehow, Zack pulled off cool, even though he was really a
nerd to the bone, just like Scooter. In fact, Zack was smarter than
Amy and Scooter put together. Zack was a god of mathematics and an
encyclopedia of world history. And made advanced physics, seem like
child’s play. Although, he’d never admit that to Zack. Being
friends with Zack made being smart look cool.

And the greatest things about Zack and
Amy were that they both accepted him for who and what he was and
weren’t constantly trying to change him.

“
Maybe I can get your mind
off things,” Zack said. “How’d you do on the English lit
exam?”

Scooter paced next to the
game table. “Solid B+. I think.”

“
You know you got an
A.”

“
You know, that new girl
Hillary is in our lit class. She’s real smart and reminds me a
little of Amy.”

“
The blonde girl who sits
two seats ahead of you, right? But she’s got bigger tits than Amy.”
Zack chuckled.

“
I guess so.”

“
Stay away from those
types of chicks.” Zack’s voice took on a deep guttural
sound.

Scooter remained silent for a few
moments. “Why? She seems nice enough. I think she might even like
me.”

“
She’s a skanky whore,”
Zack said in a harsh tone.

“
Really? How do you know
that?”  

“
Cause I fucked her last
month.”  

“
Are you
serious?”

“
Come over to my place
tonight and I’ll give you all the dirty, wet details you can
handle,” Zack moaned, as if reliving the moment.

A strange discomfort wiggled through
Scooter’s head and body when he heard his friend moaning. A visual
of Hillary’s and Zack’s bodies entwined flashed in his mind. He
stifled a groan. His jeans tightened around his groin.

“
So I guess you guys broke
up?” Scooter asked.

“
Don’t even think about.
She’s used goods. Sloppy seconds. Ever seen a half-eaten rotten
cantaloupe?”

“
Gross,” Scooter said, but
the straining in his pants only got worse.

“
Swear you’ll stay away
from her.”

“
Sure.”

“
Swear on your
soul!”

# # #

Amy blinked her eyes open. The blurred
silhouette of Carmen cleared into focus. Her body felt heavy as it
lay on a firm mattress. A thin white sheet and multiple ivory
blankets warmed her body. The sound of a rhythmic beep resounded
from beside her. Glancing down, she noticed a tube protruding from
the back of her hand. An IV.