Number of the Beast (Paladin Cycle, Book One)

by Lita Stone

  He grabbed a forearm and flipped his assailant over his head and onto the asphalt.

  Grunting, flat on her back, Carmen climbed to her feet, righting herself.

  His aura constricted around his person. The energy vibrated and hummed.

  The Beast was near!

  A small car drove from the back of the diner. Amy was driving. The Beloved gave him a quick glance before speeding from the lot.

  “Jumping rats!”

  A black car screeched by. Carmen and Atticus watched the vehicle nearly run Amy’s car off the road. Amy’s car accelerated but the other car matched her speed. It tapped her bumper. The car skidded slightly but Amy regained control. Both cars rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

  Atticus waved Carmen off. “Be gone, you dreaded nymph.” Inside his car, he mumbled, “Time is running out.” His glorified scooter hummed to life. He threw it into gear. Moments from catching the Beast...

  The passenger door flew open and Carmen slid into the seat. With both hands, she steadied a Glock. What a beautiful sight.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you are.” She tilted her head, gesturing toward the diner. “Or what the fuck that was, but something tells me you know who’s chasing my friend, don’t you?”

  “That was a time Reaver.” He lifted his chin at the road. “And that is the Beast,” he said, flatly. “The one which I keep telling you people of. No?”

  “Well, get after him already! And respect the nymph with the gun.”

  Ignoring the spicy-sweet fragrance drifting from the passenger seat, Atticus sighed and gripped the wheel tighter.

  The Beast was finally within reach.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Amy’s car jolted and skidded before she regained control. Glancing in the rearview to see what or who had bumped her, she spotted a luxury sedan inches from her bumper.

  The beast?

  Couldn’t be. Two people, a man and woman were inside the car. Tobias had said there was a beast, not beasts. They bumped her car again. Gripping the wheel tighter, Amy slammed the pedal. Damn!

  Whoever they were, they were obviously intent on pushing her off the road.

  Home was closer. Just take a left on Harper Top Road a mile ahead.

  The car’s grill bit at her rear fender.

  “Who are you?” she screamed aloud, stomping the pedal so hard it might go through the floorboard. Bright streams from the setting sun blinded her with white and orange sunspots. When she reached for the visor her car whooshed out of control. She put both hands back on the wheel and squinted through the sun’s glare.

  The speedometer climbed past seventy, hesitating between seventy-eight and eighty-two. Amy had never gone so fast in her life. The car slipped and jerked.

  Jesus!

  Steering with her left hand, she rummaged with her right through her purse, fumbling for her phone. From her lips came a silent prayer that the beast did not bump her while she steered with only one hand.

  Her trembling fingers punched in Shane’s speed dial, but the asshole pulled up on her left and swerved. She hooked the wheel. The tires skidded onto the uneven shoulder and the phone bounced from her hands. It thumped onto the passenger side floorboard, out of reach.

  She gripped the wheel with both hands again. Her foot slammed the gas pedal. The needle shot over ninety-five. The hayfields, barbed wire fences, and small stone houses rushed by.

  But the Beasts still followed.

  “Just leave me alone!”

  Her pleading was futile. The creep matched her speed. She could turn left onto Harper Top Road just a half mile ahead and get home quicker than she could get to the police station.

  But what if Shane was caught by surprise. Whoever was trying to run her down or maybe even kill or rape her, might kill Shane and Scooter, too.

  No, she thought, shaking her head. Only one person would know what to do and he was nowhere around.

  Tobias! Is this him? Is this the beast?

  She could see her turn. Almost home.

  All the warnings are making me feel crazy. Shane thinks I’m a nut job. Now you can’t even be here when I need you the most? Damn you! Damn you Tobias! I don’t need you or your future! To hell with you and to hell with the beast and that other freak from the diner, too. And to hell with Shane. To hell with all you bastards!

  Tear streamed down her cheeks. With her forearm she swiped the moisture from her face. The car jerked again. She quickly grabbed the wheel.

  The Lexus shot ahead and skidded sideways, barricading her intended left turn. She jerked the wheel and turned right onto Blackwood Road. The crumbling unmaintained road weaved its way straight into Sacred Oaks.

  Abe lived off of Blackwood several miles into the reserve. Maybe she could make it to his place.

  Her sweat-drenched hands slipped on the wheel, her ankle cramped from pumping the gas.

  No matter how fast she drove, the sedan remained steadily on her tail. It was like he was herding her along, the way Mike herded cattle.

  Her life was in serious danger and she might not see tomorrow, may never see Carmen again, or kiss Shane. But she had to stop panicking and start thinking.

  What if she slammed on the brakes and let the asshole hit her then she’d take off. It would destroy the front of his car and hopefully incapacitate the vehicle.

  What if it destroyed her car too? Bent the axle? And the beast got her anyway?

  The shadowy brambles and forest of Sacred Oaks consumed the shoulders of the road. The asphalt gave way to dirt, mud and clay. Road signs were bent and rusted.

  And into the mouth of Hell she drove.

  Abandon all hope. The morbid thought whispered in her head.

  What if she pulled over and made a run for it into the woods. She could lose him in the forest and double back around to Roxy’s and wait there for the police.

  Tobias. Help me, please.

  #

  Isaac watched The Beloved’s vehicle swerve and speed toward the forest.

  “Perfect,’ he said. “She is ours now.” He glanced at his mate.

  “Who is she?”

  “She holds the key that will allow our race to climb to the highest evolutionary chain. With her as a vessel, we will be able to enslave this universe and all others—including the other tribes.”

  “What other tribes?” Lynn asked.

  “Not important right now, my twin. We must capture The Beloved and perform an ritual so that you may have her body and nourish the seed within her womb.”

  Isaac pressed his foot to the gas and the car lurched. In confident pursuit they followed The Beloved.

  “She’s getting away, isn’t she?” his twin said.

  “She cannot get away. Not from us.”

  “But what of that Paladin that you sensed back there?”

  “I am not concerned with the zealot. He is young, weak, and no threat to me.”

  Isaac’s car idled down Blackwood at a leisurely pace, dust motes trapped in the headlights like millions of tiny, lost spirits. In the Geminus tongue, Isaac uttered a string of archaic syllables. He rolled all four windows down and crooned a summoning lullaby.

  Crows, hawks and other birds flew to the tops of trees and cawed in symphony with his voice.

  Isaac continued his incantation.

  The path appeared to sway as hundreds of snakes, small and large, slithered onto the road and darted toward The Beloved’s vehicle.

  “Come, my children of the forest and serve your king.”

  His mistress clawed at the dashboard, as if bracing for possible impact. She knew not of the strength her body now commanded. He had much to teach her. The Narkush stone embedded in her chest pulsed with a rhythmic beat, like a tiny heart.

  “What is so special about this girl?” she asked.

  Several crows dove to the ground and scooped up snakes in beak and claw. Isaac grinned at a diamondback dangling in the clutches of a rather small blackbird. Its wings fluttered, but it lacked the stren
gth to ascend. Isaac pursed his lips and blew. His breath carried the bird toward the Beloved’s car.

  “She carries a Paladin child within her womb,” Isaac said. “He shall one day become the prophesied Dark Trinity—the most powerful being to rule all other beings. Part human, part Paladin, and part Geminus.”

  The birds dropped their writhing and hissing cargo of serpents onto the Beloved’s hood and roof. Her car swerved, fishtailing out of control and veered into the ditch. Her grating screams sliced through the humid air.

  Isaac pulled over. He smiled at his mistress. “Time for your first lesson.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “Time to hunt our prey. Together.”

  #

  “Push it harder,” Carmen yelled at him like a fevered banshee.

  “This is the car’s top speed,” he snapped.

  “I could get out and push faster than this.”

  Atticus cut a glance toward her. She still held the gun but the weapon was trained on him more lazily. “Perhaps you should.”

  She waggled the weapon. “I said not to get smart with me, Mr. Renaissance Man. You just tried to kidnap my best friend…and with a sword no less. And you think being a smartass to the girl holding the gun is a good plan?”

  “The Geminus are after your friend. And they will stop at nothing until she is in their possession. I am here to protect her.”

  “What happened? You get bored with your Warcraft subscription and decide to play for real?”

  “I have no understanding of this ‘Warcraft’.”

  “You ain’t shitting me, are you? That’s fucking scary. What did you plan to do with Amy if you’d gotten her?”

  “I would transport her back to the Paladin compound.”

  “The compound,” Carmen said. “Makes perfect sense. Probably lived your whole life underground and now you were sent out to kidnap new women for your sick and twisted cult brothers.”

  “No.” Atticus shot her a stern look.

  “Amy is like a sister to me and if you dare put a hand on her, you may as well be putting your hands on me.”

  Atticus sighed. “I have given that serious thought.”

  “What was that?”

  “I said...I hope she’s not caught.”

  “Look!” Carmen pointed. “They’re turning! Turn. Turn!”

  “Yes. I can see, Miss Magellan.”

  As Atticus turned his car onto Blackwood Road shrill cries filled the sky. Hawks, crows and buzzards, soaring overhead, dropped piles of snakes onto the car.

  Carmen screamed!

  And she screamed some more.

  “Stop that!” Atticus said, having to raise his voice due to Carmen’s screams coupled with the loud clacking and thumping of the snakes.

  A large tortoise shell struck the windshield and cracked it clean down the middle. A white web expanded across both the driver and passenger side. Luckily the crack over the driver’s side hadn’t created too severe of a blind spot.

  A wide-eyed hawk soared straight toward them, dropping a twelve-point rack of antlers in the middle of the road like a makeshift caltrop.

  Atticus jerked the wheel to avoid running over the sharp horns. The back of the car swung too far.

  “Blazing ghost!”

  The car whirled into the ditch, bucking up and down. Something smacked the passenger window and Carmen squealed.

  “Shiiit!”

  The car came to a halt.

  “You drive!” Atticus ordered before shoving open the door.

  “Don’t you fucking go anywhere?”

  Atticus jumped onto the hood of the car. “Drive!”

  Carmen scooted behind the wheel, a deep scowl on her beautiful maiden face.

  “You can’t ride on the hood of the car,” she said.

  “Just drive the rotten car, wench! There’s no time!”

  Atticus fell to his knees on the hood, and stared down at the pendant. He had to think. Had to think quickly.

  “You’re not Bruce Willis and this isn’t the next Die Hard movie, you insane idiot!” Carmen shouted at him through the lowered window.

  Atticus racked his brain. Muttered some words.

  Carmen reversed the car out of the ditch and back onto the highway.

  Atticus gripped the hood with his palms, knees and toes.

  Three large buzzards rose up out of the woods. Two carried angry copperheads, the third carried an armadillo.

  The buzzards circled overhead and in front of the slow moving car.

  Summoning the powers of Earth and Mind, he shouted an ancient battle cry.

  The two copperheads dropped.

  His sword tore from its sheath. He sliced through one of the snakes in midair. The tip of the blade burst, releasing a solid beam of gleaming onyx; the stone bar struck the third bird carrying the armadillo. Both bird and armadillo imploded into feathers and bloody gristle.

  Carmen screamed again, and the car swerved. Losing his balance, Atticus fell. His face smashed into the windshield. In horror, he gawked inside the vehicle. Between Carmen and him, divided only by glass, Atticus watched the Copperhead writhing on the column of the steering wheel.

  The snake suddenly arrowed straight into Carmen’s face, piercing into her skin. Both her hands flung to her face. The car skidded chaotically along the asphalt.

  Atticus braced for the inescapable wreck. The tiny car careened left, rocketing over the ditch and slamming into a tree.

  Atticus was hurled from the hood. He tucked himself into a ball and rolled onto the ground.

  Regrouping his faculties, and steadying himself, he stood several yards from the car.

  The crash pried the driver’s door open. Carmen lay slumped halfway in and halfway out of the car. The copperhead coiled within her hair.

  “Carmen!”

  No response.

  Rustling prompted Atticus to whirl, facing the woods.

  A pack of coyotes stood on the edge. Foam poured from their open maws and their paws scratched threateningly at the soft pliable ground.

  Six of them. They had already begun to spread out in an attempt to flank him.

  “Bloody lotus,” Atticus muttered. Here he stood, a champion of holy warriors sent to track down the greatest Beast known to this world and beyond. He would not succumb to death by the teeth of mangy coyotes as a beautiful maiden lay dying only feet from him.

  Carmen uttered something.

  Atticus gripped his sword.

  Coyotes bound toward him. Atticus turned his side toward them making himself a smaller target.

  He charged. His blade slashed, thrust, and sliced; his body danced side-to-side, but always forward.

  Two coyotes fell.

  Two more on either side. They circled. The sound of snapping jaws and yelps only served to fuel his rage.

  Atticus raced forward and turned.

  The four canines charged.

  The blade jumped forward, swooped. Atticus kicked one of the coyotes in the ribs, hard, deadly. And his sword finished it, plunging into its neck.

  The last coyote backed away.

  “Run,” Atticus said. “Or perish.”

  The coyote let out one last defiant howl before whimpering and scurrying into the forest.

  He glanced to Carmen and his electric vehicle. A faint but sickly whirring from the engine pierced the fury coursing through him. Raising his sword, he ran to aid her.

  Swiftly, he stabbed the snake still writhing in her hair and flung it aside. Gripping under her shoulders, he carefully slid her from the crumpled vehicle.

  Her bosom heaved as her wheezing breaths came in frantic spurts. Pressing two fingers to her neck, he checked her pulse. Barely discernible. Swollen face. Lips a pale shade of blue.

  Two points on the pendant had burned out. The last one during his attempt to kill the birds.

  He called upon the realm of Heaven and the healing power of the Heart. Dusty pages of archaic grimoire passed through his memory as he tried to recall the pr
oper incantation. Placing a hand on her forehead, he began to chant.

  White glow radiated from his hand and pulsed through the dark skin on Carmen’s face. It was only a minor healing spell, a physical detox of sorts. But Atticus prayed it was enough to rid the snake venom from her bloodstream.

  The glowing point on the pendant abruptly faded, and turned black, charred.

  Carmen remained limp on the ground.

  Not since Rourn’s death had he felt such sorrow. This maiden of such beauty, intelligence and spitfire was one of the most astounding people he’d ever met.

  “I failed you, Miss Carmen…but I cannot fail Amy.” Atticus stood. He lost the battle but the war waged on.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Atticus pumped his legs faster and faster. Something deep inside his core told him he was about to face things far greater than coyotes and giant worms. The Glorious Seal only had one point remaining.

  Atticus came upon Amy’s flipped car. He circled it, panting, and searching.

  Footprints led into the woods.

  Followed by animal tracks.

  #

  Amy tripped over a thick root. Her shoe sailed into a thorny bush. A strip of blood trailed down her left cheek. She picked herself up and continued tearing through the forest, her pace slowed with only one shoe.

  A bird cawed from the left, locust chattered behind her; a snake rattled to her left then her front. Branches and bushes stirred with movement.

  She’d lost her sense of direction. The plan had been to ditch her car and shoot through the woods, double back to the road and head back to Roxy’s. But she wasn’t sure which way led to the road.

  Everything looked the same—oak, cedar and Buckeye trees, dead brown leaves, root-infested soil, slanted hills and deep creeks carved through the earth.

  When she was a little girl she used to spend hours in the woods. She was Indiana Jonah, always on an exploration into jungles in search of lost ruins and relics. Her worst fear was her mama when she would threaten to blister her bottom if she got her new clothes dirty.

  Indiana Jonah had never gotten lost.

  She sure missed that girl.