The Beast Within (The Elite Series)

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The Beast Within (The Elite Series) Page 18

by Jonathan Yanez


  The evening found Connor in the shower with Morrigan shouting directions to him from the other side of the door. It was beginning to become a routine.

  “Some of the reporters may try and stump you or ask you off-the-wall questions. Remember, take your time, and you always have the option of replying with no comment.”

  Connor was nervous and couldn’t help thinking that with such a big night ahead, he should be terrified. A room full of cameras and journalists all looking at him, not only for answers, but possibly for their lives if they believed in the prophecy. He would have been more nervous except something had happened in the last few days. Connor knew he was different. He knew he belonged here, and he was beginning to believe he was the Judge that was foretold. He was as strong as Lu, as fast as Laren, and this was only after three days.

  “I hung your tuxedo on the hook behind the door.”

  “Tuxedo?” Connor shut off the water and started drying himself.

  “Yes, tuxedo. What did you think you would be wearing? Converse and a V-neck?”

  Connor unzipped the garment bag, he had never seen a tuxedo before. At all his high school dances and proms, Connor had been content to wear his one suit or just a pair of slacks and a shirt and tie. He knew how hard his mother worked at the shop and couldn’t justify spending money on things that weren’t really that important to him. Any extra money from the job he worked aside from the shop either went to his mother or a savings account.

  The tuxedo was stunning. Connor was never one to keep up with trendy fashions or have expensive clothes. A good pair of running shoes and something portable to play music were all he had ever really wanted. This was a piece of art.

  His tuxedo was jet black with a white dress shirt, and black cummerbund and bow tie. The material it was made from felt expensive, the fabric was rich and soft. His black dress shoes were so shiny they were almost blinding when the light hit them.

  “Everyone will be at the banquet celebration as well; the Council, politicians, and, well, the richest and most powerful Elites on earth. Just remember to show respect. Also remember that they’re all here to see you.”

  Connor walked out of the bathroom, bowtie in hand. “I have no idea how this thing goes on.”

  Morrigan was also elegantly dressed in a long, sleeveless purple dress, her hair was pinned up and long silver earrings dangled from her ears. She looked Connor up and down.

  “Did I put something on wrong?”

  “No, Mr. Moore. Not at all, you look very handsome. You’re going to take everyone’s breath away.”

  The tuxedo transformed Connor from an attractive eighteen-year-old kid to a head-turning secret agent. He fixed his hair the way Laren had shown him, and shaved his face.

  Morrigan took the bowtie from him and wove her adept fingers through the material.

  Chin up, Connor stared at the ceiling. He was getting nervous as the time for his interview approached. You can do this. You know what you are now. You know what you’re supposed to do, he told himself.

  “There, perfect.” Morrigan took a step back to examine her work. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  The castle was alive with last-minute preparations. At this point, everyone knew Connor’s face. Word spread like wildfire since the trial, when the Council declared him a Judge. Servers passed by staring, some were even bold enough to say hello or venture a handshake. It was humbling and a bit empowering at the same moment. Morrigan quickly maneuvered around these exchanges politely, informing them they were on their way to an interview and couldn’t be late. She led him to a side door and stopped before she went in. “Do you need a minute?”

  “No, it’s like a band aid. I just want to pull it off and get it over with.”

  “Remember who you know yourself to be. Be honest and the rest will take care of itself. I’ll be there in the front row. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

  Connor nodded, readying himself for the chaos he knew would ensue as soon as she turned the doorknob.

  Whatever Connor was expecting, he was wrong. It was a zoo. As he entered the room, camera lights went off in such a quick succession it sounded like machine gun fire. Dozens of reporters all spoke at once, begging him to answer their, and only their, questions. Morrigan gave them all smiles and led Connor to a podium that was arranged for the interview. An interview that now seemed more like a press conference at the White House.

  “Please, will everyone be seated?” Adolpho’s voice was heard via microphone from the podium.

  With a reassuring smile, Morrigan left Connor standing next to Adolpho. “There’s no reason to behave like a pack of wild animals. I’m sure Mr. Moore will be more than happy to answer all of your questions. As was discussed, we’ll start left to right, beginning in the back. Each reporter may ask two questions, and for the sake of time, if your question has already been asked, please don’t ask it again.”

  The small room died down. Reporters were dressed in tuxedos and gowns, obviously attending the banquet celebration, eager to ask their “ground breaking” question. The only noise now was the steady clicking of cameras.

  Adolpho leaned in next to Connor and whispered, “A bit of advice. If you start getting nervous or freeze, just imagine them all as chubby puppies.”

  Connor looked at him, confused.

  “Don’t ask me why. It’s worked for me for centuries.”

  With that comment, Adolpho stepped down and took his seat next to Morrigan. Connor felt as though he was a valued object up for bid, everyone eyeing him and deciding how much he was worth.

  An elderly man in the back broke the silence. “Mr. Moore, do you believe that you are the next Judge that will fulfill the prophecy?”

  “Yes—and yes. Those were both of your questions, right?”

  The room giggled at his boyish remark. “Yes, Mr. Moore,” the elderly man smiled. “I’m done.”

  “One down.” Connor meant to say this under his breath, however he was standing too close to the microphone and it picked up his internal pep talk.

  The room laughed again. The next reporter was a young woman with curly red hair and cheerful amber eyes. “Mr. Moore, if you do think you’re the Judge of prophecy, and are going to save us from this impending doom, what doom do you think is coming?”

  Connor couldn’t help thinking of whoever Faust was talking to that night he’d spied on him. He couldn’t say that, though. “I don’t know. What I do know is that whatever it is, when it comes, I’ll be ready.”

  A few reporters smiled and even more heads nodded in approval.

  “And my second question is: are you prepared for the Tests?”

  “I’m ready and able to do whatever it takes to prove to you who I am and what I’m capable of.”

  The young lady thanked him and took her seat, giving the floor to a burly man that looked as though he had eaten too many jelly doughnuts.

  “Mr, Moore—”

  It was the fourth time Connor was addressed as “Mr.” that night and he couldn’t help cutting in. “You can just call me Connor. That goes for everyone.”

  The room exploded in smiles. Connor gave them a sheepish grin as the man began again. “Well, then, Connor, we understand that you have been recently turned, awakening the dormant Elite gene. How have you been handling the change?”

  Connor leaned into the microphone. “I feel like a superhero.”

  Morrigan told him to be honest, and at his answer, the room erupted in laughter. Connor won them all over within a few minutes by being himself.

  The remaining questions seemed to last forever; questions about his childhood, what he thought about his father’s imprisonment. One middle-aged woman, who was wearing a revealing dress, even asked if he was single.

  When the last reporter finished asking their two questions, Adolpho rose to take the stand. “Thank you, Connor. I believe there is a celebration being held in your honor next door. Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please follow us, the night is
about to begin.”

  CHAPTER 17

  EACH ELITE IN THE ROOM was invited next door to take part in the celebration.

  An orchestra played classical music as they entered the brightly lit ballroom. It was the size of a football stadium and still, it was packed with people. Everybody wore their best. After all, it was a once in a lifetime event—even for them. Rich paintings and drapes covered the walls and the carpet was spotless.

  Connor felt as though he was in a dream. It was the type of event one only heard about. Circular tables were set up around the room to provide seating if anyone so desired, and serving stations filled with every type of gourmet food imaginable were never far away.

  Everyone turned to look as Connor entered the room and he was immediately engulfed in a wave of excitement. He was introduced to so many people it was impossible to remember all of their names. They were full of smiles and support. He was given counsel on the Tests, words of wisdom about what he may encounter, and a plethora of other advice he didn’t ask for.

  It was during one of these talks, as a violet-eyed, self-proclaimed warrior was instructing him on a preferred fighting style, that Connor saw her.

  She was impossible to miss. Every male and female head turned as she walked past.

  “Excuse me,” Connor said politely to the young man.

  She saw him walking towards her and smiled. “They finally decided I wasn’t a threat and let me out of my room.”

  “Perfect timing. Kat, you look great.”

  She looked down at her strapless sparkling blue gown. “Do you think so? They got it for me when I asked if I could come to the ball. They had to let the waistline out a few inches. I’ve been stress eating, locked up in my room.”

  “Well, you’re out now. How are you dealing with the—the change?”

  “Well, I guess about as well as I can. I have a Transition Coach, it sounds more like I’m moving than my anatomy is changing. She’s nice, though, and every day I think I’m better able to deal with—” she looked around the room, “—all of this.”

  “It’s a big change, although it does have its perks. I mean not every eighteen-year-old can heal instantaneously or lift a bus, right?”

  “Maybe someday I’ll be there,” she laughed. “For now, my instructor is content teaching me how to hear what I want to hear and be able to tune everything else out. When it first started, I was picking up every sound and it was driving me crazy.” She looked at him with a teasing smile. “I’m sure you got the hang of things much faster than I did. You always were a quick learner.”

  “I guess. Somehow I always knew I was different. I never imagined anything even close to the truth.”

  “Yeah, I always had a feeling you were special. I had no idea that you were special on a prophetic level.”

  “I guess so. That’s all to be determined with the Tests, right?”

  “Connor, are you doubting yourself?”

  “I want to believe it and I know that most everyone already believes in me. There’s just something inside, a little voice that asks, ‘what if they’re wrong?’”

  “You’re not wrong. Tell that voice to shove it. You’re going to get through this and when you come back, we’re going to pick up right where we left off. I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a—”

  “There you are! Connor, darling, you mustn’t leave your reporters wanting.” It was the same scantily-clad older female reporter that had asked him if he was single during the interview.

  “I have a few more questions to ask you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Well, actually I was—”

  “Oh great, how good of you.” Turning to Katie, she asked, “Oh, darling, you don’t mind if I steal him for just a few minutes, do you?”

  “No, not at all. While you’re talking to him, make sure you ask the question boxers or briefs. I think you’ll be surprised.”

  The reporter’s eyes widened. “Oh my, Connor, do tell.”

  Connor gave a Katie a look of disbelief as she stifled a grin and left him alone with the reporter.

  “I’m sorry, what magazine or newspaper are you from?”

  “Elite Sixteen,” she said, tossing an extension behind her ear with a long acrylic nail. “But please, do tell. Back to the question, Mr. Moore. My readers will be dying to find out boxers or briefs?”

  “I… uhhh…”

  “Don’t be shy now.”

  “I think what Mr. Moore is trying to say is that he has more important things to think about with the Tests tomorrow,” Morrigan’s brother, Ardan Hayes, said, appearing next to him with a wine glass in hand.

  “Of course, Mr. Hayes, silly me.” Connor felt sorry for the woman as color rose to her face. “Well, I will be seeing you at the ceremony tomorrow, Connor. Mr. Hayes.”

  She awkwardly turned to walk away.

  “Boxer-briefs.”

  “What?”

  “I wear boxer-briefs.”

  Her expression immediately changed from embarrassment to joy. “Oh, thank you. I’ll be sure to send you our next edition.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Arden shook his head as they watched her walk away. “I know you probably thought I was rude to her. They’re like car salesmen: give them an inch and you’re driving away in a Porsche before you know what hit you.”

  “She seemed like she meant well.”

  “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Arden appeared to be saying this more to himself than to Connor. “You’re not drinking tonight? Come on, it’s your celebration.”

  “Haven’t been much of a drinker at eighteen.”

  “Well, yes, I guess that is a good point. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “That seems like an unsure response.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me. I have to be honest with myself.”

  “Connor, look at me. What do you see?”

  Arden was about his height, slim, and walked with confidence. He was wearing a similar black tuxedo and his brown eyes looked as though they held a secret.

  “I see a respected Council member. A member of my family and I’m—I’m missing the point of this conversation, aren’t I?”

  “Well, you are intuitive, and not that far off track. Somewhere far, far down the line we are related. We share the same blood. What’s even more important is that my sister believes you are the next Judge and the one that will pull us out of whatever evil is headed our way.” Arden paused here, choosing his next words carefully. “I love my sister, but even more than that, I trust her. She’s never been wrong. That’s why I believe you are the one, and the reason I’ve come here to help you tonight.”

  “Help me?”

  “Yes, rather, give you some information. There are too many ears here, follow me.”

  Arden led him right next to the podium where the orchestra was playing. Leaning into his ear, he whispered, barely loud enough for Connor to hear, “There is an evil rising, we know that for certain. The prophecy is becoming extremely real and we will need a hero, soon. There is a war coming, Connor and our race will call for its Judge.”

  Connor knew that Arden was trying to help him. To bring relevance to the prophecy. However, this just gave Connor more to think about.

  “What evil are you talking about?”

  “It’s not safe to discuss here. You have to trust me, it’s real and coming soon.”

  Connor saw by the grim look on his face that he was telling the truth and he wouldn’t be saying anymore on the subject. “Thank you.”

  “I know it’s not much, but I hope it helps. Now go mingle with the rest of the room. I can feel them staring at me, waiting for me to be done with you—vultures.”

  The rest of the night was spent much like the beginning; there were always more hands to shake, always more names to remember and forget. Morrigan was constantly within a few feet, as if she were a mother hen, ready to swoop
in if the situation called for it.

  Within the two hours, Connor needed a break from the hob-knobbing and advice.

  “Morrigan, is it all right if I step outside for a few minutes? I think I’m going to go crazy if one more Elite tells me, ‘I thought the Judge would be older.’”

  Morrigan nodded. “Of course. Don’t be long.”

  Connor agreed and headed for the castle’s main entrance. The hall was deserted when he entered, or he thought it was until he heard a loud sniff come from one of the many doorways. Faust walked into the hall, confident and wearing his usual sunglasses. “I thought I smelled a misguided youth.”

  Connor just wanted to ignore him, however, he would have to walk by Faust to reach the castle exit.

  “Listen, I don’t want any trouble tonight. I’m just headed outside.”

  “Oh, by all means, please continue. Don’t let me stop you.”

  Connor hesitantly approached him. His muscles were tense, prepared for anything.

  Just as he was passing his eyeless nemesis, Faust broke the silence. “I can’t help but wonder what you think taking the Tests will solve. Even if you are the Judge and come back victorious, you won’t win. You can’t.”

  Connor stopped to face Faust. He knew this is what his antagonist wanted but he was willing to give in anyway. “What are you talking about?”

  Faust smiled, pleased with himself. “I’m talking about your loved ones. Your mother, that pretty blonde, what’s her name? Katie, was it? Or Larentia? You’re quite the catch, Mr. Moore. Even if you do come back and everyone hails you as a hero, you’ll still be a boy powerless to protect your loved ones.”

  Connor could feel his heat rise. “If you touch them, so help me, God…”

  “Struck a nerve, did I? Is this where you tell me that if I touch them you’ll kill me? Well, rest assured, it isn’t me you have to worry about.”

  His vision was starting to blur now as anger invaded his senses. “That’s where you’re wrong. If anything happens to any of them, I’m coming back for you.”

  “There are things beyond your understanding. Ancient things that even you will be powerless against to save the ones you love.”

 

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