In the Arms of the Beast

by K. A. Merikan

  He’d lived here his whole life. He knew all the shortcuts and secrets, and the changes the in landscape wouldn’t keep him from reaching the clubhouse.

  The ground was irregular under his feet, with hard black rock separating the soft undergrowth that was so familiar, but Beast ran between the densely-growing trees that had been there for centuries. His pulse quickened when he saw bright walls loom beyond trees, and he managed to move faster despite the ache in his lungs. Somewhere out there, Laurent was waiting for him, safe. He needed to believe that, because if that wasn’t the case, then everything he’d done, all the sacrifices of the past year would have been for nothing.

  He stood still when he was close enough to see the magnitude of the damage sustained by the clubhouse. Half of it was rabble, the other might collapse soon, for all he knew. It was a picture from a war zone, but the tiny national flag on top of Magpie’s tent waved at him in greeting.

  It was only when he heard a child cry in the distance that the paralysis to his limbs wore off. Mind blank, out of breath, he sprinted across the lawn, all the way to the encampment, but what he saw once he encircled the palisade made no sense.

  Laurent’s long hair and slender body captured his attention like a magnet, but while he had the crying child cradled against his chest, a whole swarm of tiny human beings lay on a silk robe next to him. Some were bundled in towels, some with blankets, and Magpie’s bodyguard held yet one more baby, rocking it in his stiff arms.

  “Laurent?” Beast uttered.

  A soft gasp left Laurent’s lips when he looked Beast’s way. His brown eyes spoke of fear when he whispered, “Beast. You’re alive.”

  In a heartbeat, Beast was on his knees, with Laurent against his chest, and he kissed the smooth forehead lovingly, itching to squeeze him harder yet not daring to due to the baby’s presence. “What... Marcel?”

  “Y-yes. This one is Marcel.” Laurent said, lifting the boy in his arms. “B-but there’s seven. There’s seven of them. There was seven. In the egg.” His breathing sped up, and Beast still didn’t comprehend what happened, but seeing Laurent falling apart instantly pushed him toward reassuring him first. “Magpie said… we used too much blood. I don’t know. I don’t even know anymore.”

  Beast stared at the five tiny human beings laid out on the robe, itching to get the seventh one out of the Malachite’s inhuman paws. A scream was dying to rip out of his throat, but when he glanced at the bodyguard again, he knew there was nobody to shout at for this mistake. Whatever Magpie had done to stop Baal from spilling into their realm, he wasn’t there anymore.

  “Seven,” he whispered, trying to stay strong, because what was he to do? Throw a fit?

  This was it.

  This was what they’d done.

  Laurent put Marcel down next to his brothers and wrapped his arms around Beast as if he wanted to crush him. “Magpie went into one of the cracks in the ground, and then everything was over. I think… I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  He couldn’t believe that a creature like Magpie had done this for them. No matter how close they’d become lately, Beast had assumed when push came to shove, Magpie would have made everyone burn too, if he was to suffer himself. Yet again, Beast’s beliefs about the world around him had been proven wrong.

  Beast swallowed hard, resting his chin on Laurent’s head and letting himself enjoy this moment of relief. They had seven children to care for, their home was ruined, and so was the local infrastructure, but they could have died, and the fact that he was holding Laurent in his arms, whole and safe, made him want to burn offerings to any gods out there in an expression of gratitude.

  “What matters is that you’re still here.”

  Laurent nodded so hard his head hit Beast’s jaw. “I was so scared for you. B-but, we will manage, right? Are our friends safe? Was anyone hurt?”

  “I—”

  “There you are!” Gray shouted, but when they looked his way, it was impossible not to notice that he was riding Shadow’s back, not his motorcycle. Blood stained the leg of his pants, and when they approached, Beast noticed a sheen of sweat on his friend’s face. Other than the obvious swelling of his shin, there wasn’t anything outright wrong with him at first glance.

  “Do you know what happened with the others?” Beast asked, squeezing Laurent against him when his husband tried to pull away. He was not ready to let go yet.

  “Knight, Rev and Elliot are coming by car, but it’s hard to drive on the roads now--what?” Gray stopped talking when he noticed all the babies laid out like little angels, not one-third demon creatures about to erupt with infernal cries.

  Beast stared at the crumbled facade at the front of the building. “We’ll have to see what we can salvage,” he whispered, afraid to look down, even when one of the children gave a tiny cry.

  He still didn’t know what to think, numb with shock. He’d been afraid if he’d be a good father to one, so how was he to make one for seven boys?

  Gray cleared his throat. “Beast. I was asking about the kids.”

  Beast shut his eyes and hugged Laurent even tighter. “We’ll… think of something. I guess we need a bigger apartment,” he said in a voice that was much weaker than he intended. They needed much more than a bigger apartment. So many things in fact Beast would rather reminisce about almost dying in a shower of burning gasoline half an hour ago than face those unexpected challenges.

  Shadow seemed torn, but crouched down and put down Gray in the grass. “And they’re all yours? All these babies?” he crawled close on hands and knees like a puppy eager to meet new friends.

  Laurent gave Beast a tender kiss and pulled away enough to sit back on his heels and lift Marcel into his arms again. He took a deep breath. “Y-yes. These are our sons. Not planned but already loved.” It was good that he at least was finding his voice, because Beast was far too lightheaded to speak.

  But when Marcel once again let out that tiny whine, he tentatively reached to stroke the tiniest head, so much smaller than even his fist.

  The baby’s skin was damp and so soft he feared it might tear if he touched it too hard. He was a tough guy and had always been, but this little being already had such overwhelming power over his life he was left speechless. All the children looked pretty much the same, with wrinkled skin and closed eyes, and he was overcome with the realization that they wouldn’t remain like this forever. That he would see them develop into people in their own right, even if at this moment they felt like pieces of his own flesh and Laurent’s.

  He slowly pulled his fingertips over the forehead of each one, unable to resist the need to let them know his scent. He only looked away when the hum of an upcoming car penetrated his fuzzy mind.

  Shadow stroked one baby’s ear, and no matter how gentle he was, Beast instantly yearned to hold the baby to his chest and protect it from anyone and anything it might encounter.

  But Shadow moved away from the robe when the car parked nearby with a squeak of tyres. “You need to be taken to the hospital,” he said to Gray, and helped him up.

  “Is that a car? Hey, who is this?” called out a distressed voice.

  “Nao? We’re out here, by Magpie’s tent,” he shouted back, reaching out to the last baby, the one buried in Malachite’s arms. The man stiffened, as if he intended to run off with the child, but after half a second, he released the tiny boy into Beast’s arms.

  “His name’s Jasper,” he said in a raspy voice.

  Laurent let out a shaky breath and rubbed his eye. “Yes. Jasper.”

  Beast frowned, but everything became clear when two sapphires peeked at him from beneath bald eyelids. “Fucking hell,” he whispered and glanced Laurent’s way. No fucking way.

  Rev didn’t move from the driver’s seat, eyeing Shadow and Gray, but the men, who came with him, stumbled outside, unharmed apart from some scratches and bruises. There was a minor problem with Fox’s leg, but he didn’t seem in much pain, and approached the gathering with worry marring his for
ehead.

  “Is Violet okay?” was the first thing he asked, but his wife emerged from behind the palisade with Nao, carrying Xavier in her arms, and he ran to her despite the limp.

  Nao had mascara streaks running down her cheeks when she spoke. “We were in the kitchen when the quake started. We went out through the window. And then everything collapsed!”

  Nick was there to give her a hug, but Beast’s attention was on Knight. He hated having to face his friend’s sunken expression. Lana’s remains had been consumed by one of the holes in the ground, as if Baal wanted to take back what he considered his. There was no body left to mourn. What had happened with Joker still needed to be addressed once everyone was ready to talk, but for now they had to make sure the living were taken care of.

  Knight took the baby from Violet and sat in the grass while Elliot tailed him without joy in his step. They remained close, but Elliot didn’t try to get his hands around Knight like he usually would have done, and waited in silence instead. In the background, Rev helped Shadow move Gray into the car, accepting his sort-of-son-in-law’s help.

  Everyone needed time to lick their wounds.

  Beast kissed Jasper’s forehead and sighed, once again taking in all his children. “I think we should move to Magpie’s tent for now. Then we can think what to do next.”

  Only then did Knight wake up from his stupor and stared at the septuplets. “S-seven,” he uttered.

  Beast nodded, carefully getting up with two children resting in his arms. “Seven.”

  All the survivors who chose not to visit their families in surrounding towns took shelter in the upscale camping site, and soon enough anyone who could was wearing clothes worth thousands of dollars, because nobody was ready to face the carnage left of their clubhouse yet. Beast had watched some baby care videos in preparation for the birth, but faced with the real thing, he was so overwhelmed Fox and Violet needed to take the lead and instruct him and Laurent on how to clean the babies. Thankfully, Magpie’s obsession with Marcel had resulted in a whole tent he’d kept filled with baby supplies, so they were at least covered on that front for now.

  Beast was torn about leaving Laurent with their kids even for half a second, but someone had to check on the house.

  Laurent once again proved their compatibility when he spoke. “Beast, now that I’m not alone with them, would you go check what happened in there? If there is any chance to save Magpie, we must investigate.”

  Beast looked into his eyes, then at the seven babies wrapped in silk scarves found in Magpie’s things. He didn’t want to leave Laurent nor face the reality of what happened to the building yet, but knew what his responsibilities were.

  “Jake. Come with me,” he said, slowly backing away toward the exit.

  Laurent gave him an uncertain smile and glanced at the newborn in his arms. How would they navigate seven? Laurent already had a favorite in Marcel, but the babies needed equal treatment if they were to develop into healthy adults.

  Beast couldn’t come up with any answers yet, so he focused on the task at hand and led Jake to the ruined building. “We’ll climb over the rubble.”

  Most of the front wall, which until earlier today featured period details, was a pile of brick and mortar, but miraculously, once they walked past the wonky door that somehow still retained its frame, the gargoyle statue was still there. Jake patted its muzzle as if he were meeting an old friend. The ground was covered in rusty dust from the crumbled building materials, but plenty of wood, concrete, and other material dotted the carnage. The upper floor had collapsed in this part of the building, and the sun’s rays warmed the bald side of Beast’s head through a giant hole in the roof.

  He chose not to think of mundane issues such as the cost of dealing with all this for now. If Magpie was still alive somewhere, only one place came to his mind.

  “We need to get down there,” Beast said, pointing at the wooden panels hidden behind a fallen slab of concrete.

  Jake understood what was being asked of him. Beast took a step away, still freaked out by the way the black goo dripped out of Jake’s mouth, nose, and ears only to rapidly cover him, forming muscles, horns, and claws until Azog’s full form stood next to its artistic rendition.

  As a gargoyle, Jake pulled rubble away the same way Beast would’ve rummaged through a messy cupboard. Stone by stone, Jake was able to uncover the panels, which lay ruined among brick and plaster. The entrance to the cellar only needed a bit of clearing, because the vault ceiling hadn’t collapsed.

  Cool air blew into Beast’s face as soon as they unblocked the passage, and he met Jake’s eyes. “Be on standby. Just in case,” he said before hunching to fit into the corridor meant for someone much smaller than him.

  Down there, he saw no changes, though when he tried to switch on the light, he found that there was no power. The glow of his cell phone guided him down the narrow steps and into the cellar that guarded too many secrets to comprehend. The door to the sigil room, the same one where Laurent had been assaulted by Fane, was closed, but Beast didn’t hesitate and entered.

  Magpie wasn’t there, or so it seemed at first glance.

  It was when Beast passed the threshold that he spotted something red glinting on the floor. They’d put the stone back in place after the failed attempt of stopping Baal with concrete. No one had felt comfortable leaving a door into hell open.

  The ancient block of stone marked by Baal’s sigil carved and made permanent with iron, now glistened as if someone had scattered ruby glitter over it. The lines that made up the demon’s mark were covered with what looked like liquid crystal, but when Beast touched it, the red substance proved to be solid.

  And warm.

  He shut his eyes, rubbing the smooth texture that sealed the passage between worlds.

  “Thank you,” Beast whispered. “Your sacrifice won’t be forgotten.”

  Epilogue 1 – Knight & Elliot

  Elliot stood just a step away from Knight, and the silence gutted him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Knight so devastated. A part of him itched to run to where their apartment used to be, see if any of their research materials could be salvaged from the rubble, but being by Knight’s side was much more important than physical possessions or even fruit of their hard work.

  Everyone was focused on the seven newborns and the chaos they created, leaving the two of them on the sidelines, but that was for the better. Knight sat cross-legged in the grass, his face darkened with soot, his hair a tangle, the baby asleep in the basket Knight had taken from Lana’s car, blissfully unaware that he no longer had a mother. Elliot scooted down next to Knight and touched his knee. “You wanna go somewhere more peaceful?”

  Knight hesitated when his gaze darted to meet Elliot’s, stiff as if he were afraid Xavier could erupt into choking cries if he moved by an inch. In the end though, he dragged himself up and took a couple of steps toward the peaceful lake with arms hanging limply at the sides of his body.

  After the two deaths, after the uneven fight against the trees Knight himself had planted, unaware of their menacing power, he was drained and in need of support. Elliot had never imagined Knight needing his help, but now he felt the itch to hold Knight, even if he couldn’t offer any promises other than his unyielding love.

  Because Knight’s world would never be the same.

  He stroked Knight’s arm, wary of his lover’s every expression. “Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to take Xavier off you for now?”

  It was the least he could offer despite having no idea what to do with a child. The boy was sleeping so it couldn’t be too hard to watch over him while Knight reloaded his batteries.

  Knight blinked, staring at Elliot with a flat expression, but then his arm rose in a familiar gesture, and Elliot took his place under it with relief pooling in his chest.

  “No, I just… she’s dead. She came here to be safe, I invited her, and now she’s dead. I should have known there was risk involved.”

  Ell
iot wrapped his arms around Knight’s waist. “You couldn’t have known. No one could. And you couldn’t have told her about Baal either. I’m so, so sorry, Knight.”

  Knight shook his head and let go of Elliot when his expression became even more serious. “You won’t like this.”

  “Like what? Babe, you know you can do no wrong in my eyes,” Elliot said, desperate to offer his man some relief. He’d do anything to put a smile back on that handsome face.

  Knight swallowed and moved his jaw, as if he were trying to relax the tense muscles around it. “Xavier can’t go back to his father.”

  Elliot stared down at the baby sleeping in the carrier, but the meaning of Knight’s words didn’t sink in yet. “Oh. Where would he go then? Can one of your siblings take him in?” he asked, but deep down, he knew where this was heading already.

  Knight chewed on his lip. “Can’t trust any of them with a baby. They’re too young. And Mom’s… she raised me, so I know very well she can’t be trusted with a child.” He took a deep breath and looked at the bulging ground under their feet. “Say something.”

  Elliot found it hard to swallow, let alone speak. He wasn’t ready for this. He had no paternal instinct whatsoever and knew nothing about raising kids. His childhood had been traumatic and taught him nothing but self-hate and misery.

  “I… I guess there will be many children at the clubhouse now,” he uttered with a nervous smile. Was this happening? Was this his new reality? Then again, he couldn’t blame Knight. It wasn’t like he’d suddenly changed his mind about having kids and was now giving Elliot an ultimatum. Knight’s sister had been murdered, and he needed to take care of her kid. That was all it was—life.

  Knight gave a choked laugh and walked past the Moses basket before taking a seat on a tree that must have fallen during the earthquake.

  “You’re radiating enthusiasm.” But before Elliot could try to explain himself, Knight pulled on his hand and played with the fingers. “I get it. Maybe… we’ll need to rethink living arrangements or something. This is my problem, not yours.”