by Cara Lake
“Cassi…I have to go.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathy, nervous.
“Have you got anything yet, anything useful?” said Cassi, blocking her exit.
Just goose bumps and an unwanted kiss…although, really? Had it been unwanted? Irina shook her head and brushed past Cassi as quickly as possible, trying to defuse the tangle of emotions zipping through her brain. Outside in the corridor she sank back against the wall, desperate to calm the incessant thump of her heartbeat, her thoughts a tumble of incoherent sensations and impressions of him. Tyr. A murderer. Savage. Wild. Uncontrollable. Beautiful.
As she stood looking up at the ceiling, a door opened at the far end of the corridor and a group of men approached the interview room. Irina pulled herself straight, trying to give some semblance of normality to her appearance and as they passed her, she recognized the wealthy businessman and would-be politician, Aamon Abrasax. Alongside him were Leo and another detective she had worked with on occasion, Shax Tannin.
Leo was deep in conversation with Abrasax. Glancing up, Irina caught the curious appraisal given her by Shax, a weird yellow light in his eyes, as if he were seeing her clearly for the first time. He nodded in acknowledgement and disappeared with the other men into an adjoining office. An uneasy shiver of fear tingled its way down her spine. Before she could give it too much consideration, Cassi emerged from the interview room. Cassi too was looking at her with a strange expression on her face as if she knew something that Irina did not.
“Are you all right? You look pale,” she said. “Did something happen?”
“No… I’m fine, just a bit tired from working all these cases,” Irina found herself saying, when usually she would have told Cassi everything. Cassi, who knew her history, how her family had been brutally murdered, who knew almost all her innermost secrets. How could she explain this overwhelming fascination for a violent, brutal man, who might have been part of her family’s deaths?
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 w
ith 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 rar
og 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.”
