Number of the Beast (Paladin Cycle, Book One)

by Lita Stone

  His arms encircled her waist. Barbs protruded from his tongue, barbs he used to lash her cheek. Blood poured down her face.

  She wrapped herself around him and nuzzled the side of her face against his chest. A crimson tribute of blood stained his yellow shirt.

  “I don’t know how, but I know what you are.”

  Geminus blood and essence surged through her aura, but she knew not what she was other than the carnal instincts she possessed. A perfectly hidden cub.

  She will require my unwavering protection until her instincts are fully awakened.

  Isaac lashed kisses down the bridge of her nose. At the base of her neck, his barbed tongue branded her slick-with-sweat skin, carving the numeral two in their archaic language. He pulled her against him. Their separate auras swirled from their bodies and merged, fusing him and her as a one-soul being. The whites of her eyes morphed yellow as a warmth touched his own.

  Isaac growled, “For every breath I expound, you shall devour.”

  In a strained whisper, she said, “For every breath I release, you shall ingest.”

  “I’ve grown weary of stalking worlds for centuries without you, my eternal mistress.” Isaac sealed his lips over hers. Tongues tangled. Teeth scraped. He tasted her lower lip. Blood trailed down her chin. His tongue savored the metallic liquid pooled on her salty skin. “My Geminus. My love. My twin.”

  Face flushed, breath coming in pants, she tore at the waistband of his slacks but he stayed her hand. “What do the mortals here call you?”

  “Lynn.”

  He palmed her cheek where he’d scraped her skin with his tongue. “You have much to learn Lynn, and I, Isaac, your eternal master, will teach you everything you need to survive, but you must be patient. Now is not the time to seal our destinies with a mating. We need the blessing of our Mother and now that we’ve begun the Fusing our predators will sense our presence. They will hunt us.”

  When Lynn tore Isaac’s dress shirt open and nibbled on his chest, he pushed her to arm’s length. “Nothing will stop me from protecting you, but you must follow my direction without question or hesitation.”

  She let out a shaky breath and held his stare, the conflict within her evident in her rapid breaths. He felt her frustration and lust as if it was his own, because now they were fused and shared everything, pain and joy alike.

  She hung her head. “Command me, my master.”

  Isaac put a finger under her chin and lifted her head until their eyes met. From the ground, he retrieved a juice box and crushed it in his fist. Red liquid trailed down his forearm. “Your existence as a mortal is no more.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  From behind, Scooter loomed over Amy as she unlocked the trailer door. She threw a look of impatience over her shoulder but Scooter just grinned, shifting his weight. He had harassed her, begging to get a better look at the dagger, but she insisted he wait until they got home.

  In the kitchen, Amy placed the carton of worms on the counter next to a portable FM radio playing a local country station. She heaved a sigh as Scooter peered over her shoulder and inside her purse. She removed the strange weapon.

  A fish chomping at bait, Scooter snatched the dagger. He let the cloth fall and stared, mesmerized at the archaic weapon and lifted the blade like a scrawny, young Conan. “Incredible.” He turned it, running his fingers along a rope of gold intertwined on the handle. “Strange lettering.”

  Amy leaned closer to get a better look. “What do you mean?”

  “It seems to be a runic alphabet popular in the 7th century. And I don’t think it’s a replica either.” He turned the dagger again. Written in modern day English, with a crude flair, was the name TOBIAS. Scooter glared at her. “A friend of yours?”

  Amy tucked a lock of hair behind her ears. She grabbed a pitcher from the refrigerator and gave a nervous huff. “Nobody I know.” She poured a glass of tea. As she sipped, she eyed Scooter over the rim of the glass. He quirked his brows in question. Coughing, she spilled tea from her mouth and wiped spittle from her chin.

  She took the strange artifact from Scooter’s grasp, whirled and strode toward the living room. “You know Abe. He’s always messing with me.”

  Scooter followed her. “But where on earth would he have gotten something like that?”

  “Where does Abe get half the junk he collects? Probably an auction or the scrapyard.” If only she believed that.

  Amy plopped on the couch. The dagger balanced on her lap. With shaky fingers she gripped the sofa cushion.

  Scooter sat beside her. “You okay?”

  My God, Tobias. You are real. She palmed her forehead.

  Scooter grasped her hand. “Are you about to faint?”

  She shook her head and pulled her hand from his grasp. “I’m fine.”

  So she wasn’t losing her mind. The thought should be comforting, but the alternative meant a Beast might really be coming for her.

  Tobias? You there?

  But her mind remained quiet. Her hands trembled.

  Scooter turned and grabbed a vial from the end table. “Here.”

  She took it from him and sipped, grateful she had more in the house. She leaned back against the cushion and closed her eyes. The black herbal mash scratched at her throat, she swallowed several more times. I need to know. Who are you? What is a Dark Trinity?

  A distant crackling sound filled her head, like paper being crinkled, or perhaps crackling of a campfire.

  A gift. The voice was abrupt, but clear.

  Amy smiled at the sound of Tobias’ deep voice. His random visits to her mind were becoming familiar and she got worried when he didn’t respond right away. Thank you. It’s remarkable.

  “Can I keep it?” Scooter asked, reaching out and patting the hilt.

  Amy shook her head. “I think I should hold onto it.”

  Give the dagger to the boy.

  You said it was a gift. Amy sent the telepathic message to Tobias.

  Never said the gift was yours to keep. The boy must have the blade.

  Amy nodded.

  Scooter carefully took the weapon. “Zack will have a nerdgasm when he sees this!”

  Are you sure about this, Tobias?

  The crackling fire faded and her mind fell quiet.

  Scooter waved Amy on, pointing the dagger like an officer of the cavalry. “Come and play a session of my new war game.” he ordered.

  She locked all the windows and the front door.

  Harsh laughter sounded in her mind. Locks will not keep you safe from the Beasts.

  I don’t see you doing anything about it except giving Scooter a sharp, pointy knife.

  In my world the boy would have fathered three offspring and killed a dozen men at his age.

  Kids here do that too...if they’re in the Aryan or Tango Blast gang!

  If you do not trust me then all the nightmares you attributed to vengeful rats will become your world’s reality.

  What do you know about those nightmares?

  They were not nightmares. They were visions of mine. Visions of possible futures that may still become.

  “Are you coming?” Scooter called.

  Amy reluctantly followed him down the hall.

  The easy-going sound of classic rock filtered from his bedroom. She stopped at the doorway.

  Do you know how much stress those nightmares...visions caused me?

  Your days of stress are inconsequential to my greater goals.

  You’re a jerk sometimes, you know that?

  Scooter laid the dagger on his bed. He began placing small pewter soldiers on a wooden table decorated with a tiny scaled-down forest, actual rocks taken from their driveway and plastic highways. “I’m setting up the armies for combat now. Some have swords and magic, and others have assault rifles and SMGs.”

  Amy leaned against the door jamb. Once again her mind had gone quiet, signaling that Tobias had left the building. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing with action figures?”

/>   “Action figures?” Scooter scowled. “These are genuine metal miniatures that I diligently painted myself.”

  Amy palmed her heart, feigning interest. “Pardon me. My mistake.”

  He grabbed a figurine. “This knight has 10d Confidence and is equipped with a 2d8 Valiant Scythe that can obliterate an army of dread goblins in one roll. Hardly a children’s game.”

  Amy pushed from the doorway and picked up a tiny knight. She examined it quickly before placing it beside the figurine Scooter had just held.

  Scooter shook his head. “No. That’s an Imperial Gunsmith. He can’t move that many squares away from his original formation. This is more complicated than you realize. Allow me to explain the—”

  Amy's phone rang. “Hello, sweetheart,” she answered while leaving Scooter’s bedroom. She poked her head back into the room. “As intriguing as this sounds, I have to take this call.”

  “There’s been a slight setback in the plans,” Shane said. “The Jalopy blew a gasket. We’re about two hours out of Pecos. Mechanic said it won’t be fixed until tomorrow morning.”

  “I got some worms. We going fishing when you get home?” If the Beast hasn’t eaten me by then. Should she tell Shane about the voice and the dagger?

  “You know I’ll be itching to take you fishing.”

  A flash of white light suddenly lit up the entire house. Thunder boomed, causing the trailer to shudder. Amy braced herself against the wall to prevent from falling over. “Oh my God.”

  “Damn,” Shane said. “I think we’re having a mild earthquake.”

  “Same here,” Amy said. “You think we’re experiencing the same earthquake?”

  “Maybe. Got some freaky ass lightning.”

  “I saw the lightning too! But you're hundreds of miles away. How could we be watching the same storm?”

  “Great,” Shane said. “The world is ending and I’m stranded in East Bum Fuck with Birch. This day just keeps getting better and better.”

  “I haven’t seen any more lightning and the grounds not shaking anymore. Maybe whatever it was is over.”

  “Stay put until we know for sure.”

  “That works for me.”

  “I’ll see if there’s any reports about the storm on the news. My battery is low and all I had was a car charger so I got to say audios, babe.”

  “I'll see you in the morning. I love you.”

  “Later.” As the phone went silent, darkness swallowed the trailer.

  “Amy?” Scooter called from behind her. “The power went out.”

  Amy entered the master bedroom. She threw open Shane’s closet and took out one of his hunting rifles: Remington 30-30.

  I will protect you when the time comes.

  Amy shoved a cartridge into the rifle. That’s comforting but I’m still gonna sleep with the gun.

  Chapter Twenty

  Shane stood on the street corner in front of T & T Towing. Across from him was an Applebees. To the left a coffee shop. Down the street to the right was El Salvator's Cantina. Without a word or a second glance, Shane and Birch walked east toward the smell of jalapenos and grilled meat.

  “I heard they found an empty pill bottle in Kevin's truck,” Birch said.

  “I know a lot of guys on the rig end up in the gutter, but I wouldn’t have pegged Kevin as one of ‘em. I know he had shit going on, but it doesn’t make sense.”

  “Just a matter of time before we all end up like him.”

  The job sucked but Shane would never let it get the better of him. “During my two year tour of Iraq we only lost two guys in our unit. Two years on this goddamn rig and four men have died. Remember that kid, Rick, who got sliced in half by the steel cable? I never saw that much friendly blood in the desert.”

  “The kid didn’t follow procedure,” Birch said.

  “Bastards just threw him at the job. Not a lick of training,” Shane added.

  Sounds of mariachi music grew louder as they neared the cantina.

  Shane opened the colorful glass door. Cool air blasted from inside the dimly lit restaurant.

  The uniform of mini-skirts and low-cut tops gave the place a Hooters feel, but families with babies and children doodling on kid’s menus suggested different.

  From a corner booth, Shane moved two dirty mugs to a neighboring table.

  Birch slid onto the cushion. “I'm not going back to the oil field.”

  Shane slid across from him. “You’re kidding right?”

  “The job’s not meant for a family man. I’m gonna go home, hug my wife and play Xbox all night long with Matt.”

  “Never dawned on you until now to play Xbox all night with your son? But your co-worker dies and you’re suddenly father and husband of the year?”

  “It’s natural when someone you know dies, to assess your own life.”

  “What happened to Kevin doesn’t make me question my own life.”

  “Maybe it should.”

  A waitress approached. She had cropped black hair, a modern-day Audrey Hepburn look. One of the straps of her red bra hung rebelliously off her shoulder. But Shane couldn’t help noticing that her eyebrows looked like streaked charcoal.

  “Howdy boys. I'm Lizzy. Can I start you guys off with a couple beers?”

  “Bud,” Shane said. “Bottle, not draft.”

  “Modelo Negra,” Birch said.

  Lizzy hurried off.

  “Bud? Broaden your horizons,” Birch said. “Mexican beer when at a Mexican establishment.”

  “You drink your foreign piss. I’ll stick with the King of beers.”

  “Fine. Stick with your watered-down cheap beer. Leave the real beer for the men.” Birch flexed his scrawny arm.

  “I’ll show you who the pussy is.”

  Lizzy started back their way. Shane gave her a lazy smile and a wink.

  She set the froth mugs down. “You guys set to order?”

  “Nachos,” Shane said. “And your phone number.”

  “If I was that kind of girl, I’d love to.” Her face flushed, playing coy as if she hadn’t been fucked upside down and inside out before.

  “We’ll just take the nachos,” Birch said.

  Shane folded his arms against his chest and leaned back. “You’re definitely that kind of girl.”

  With a strained smile, Lizzie scribbled in her notepad, ripped a page off and slid it across the table to Shane.

  When she strode away the red skirt covering her chiseled ass swished like lava bubbling over hard stone. Shane glanced at the note where a phone number was written in cursive, girly print, along with a smiley face.

  “You won’t be happy ‘til you screw things up with Amy, will you?”

  Shane frowned. “I’m just fucking around. I got no intentions of calling that skank.”

  “Stop punishing yourself for Vicki’s death and let it go.”

  Shane slammed his mug down. “Jesus, dude. What backwoods road did you take to get there?”

  “You think you don’t deserve happiness so you’re always trying to fuck up everything good in your life.” Birch shook his head. “So stick the number in your pocket, let Amy find it in the dirty laundry, then she’ll dump your sorry ass. All because of the self-destructive guilt you inflict upon your life because of the accident.”

  “You want a quarter for that Freudian bullshit?” He slid the paper across the table. “Stick your psychoanalysis in her.”

  #

  Sitting in the passenger seat of Isaac luxury sedan, Lynn pressed her face against the window. Silhouettes of cottonwood and cypress trees rushed past. In the distant shadows, a rabbit dashed as a copperhead struck; a thorny leaf fluttered from the rabbit’s sudden departure, its thudding heart close to bringing on deadly shock. Exhaling, Lynn observed it all. Senses heightened, mind sharpened, and body vibrant, an awakening consumed her. It felt like Mother Nature, draped in exotic fig leaves and morning dew, had touched her soul, enchanting her with the spirit of a forest nymph.

  In all her t
hirty-one years she’d lived sightless...soundless. But now the depths of the world flowed in torrents she’d never thought possible. Even the soft touch of cool moonlight tickled every inch of her skin. An urge to chase prey into the woods clutched her. Fingers gripped the door handle.

  A savage impulse, but one born of natural instincts.

  She glanced at Isaac. His short black hair was slicked back, the complexion of a rugged outdoorsman, and a face carved from raw beauty. Smokey colored brows arched over his dark copper eyes.

  Without thinking she traced her fingers down his sports jacket, feeling the well-toned biceps. His muscles twitched.

  Isaac turned the vehicle down her street. Her heart raced with warning. Since the moment she met Isaac, not once had she thought of her children or husband. Guilt, though mild, overcame her. Heat warmed her face. She palmed her cheeks, trying to cool her skin.

  They pulled into her driveway. Lynn sucked in a hard breath.

  After shifting to park, Isaac exited the car. He removed his shirt, shoes and slacks, placing them on the hood.

  Lynn glanced at her modest ranch home. The porch light offered dim illumination for her aged deck. Parked on the right side of the house, the frontend of Joe’s Harley glared at her like a chained guard dog, snarling with suspicion.

  She tugged at the door handle.

  It didn’t budge.

  Nude, Isaac stalked toward her front door. The jewel embedded in his chest flashed like an angry beacon.

  Lynn glanced to the neighbor’s houses and cringed. It was dusk, but not quite dark. If they glanced out their window they’d see Isaac, in all his glory and the brightly glowing stone. Her lips stretched into a grin. Peering down her blouse, she palmed her own chest, wondering why she didn’t possess a radiant gem anywhere on her body.

  The porch creaked beneath Isaac’s feet. The front door was flung open, and Joe’s bare torso blocked the threshold.

  Weren’t her children in the house? How many did she have...two? Two human children...

  She tried the door again. And again. Fear, confusion and anxiety raced through her. Gripping the handle tightly, she yanked.

  It snapped off. Furiously, Lynn hurled the plastic handle behind her.

  Joe looked up and down Isaac’s naked body and scratched his bandanna covered scalp. “What the fuck is this?” He craned his neck to peer around Isaac. Lynn caught the filthy daggers in his dark gaze.