The Beast Inside

by Monique Singleton

  ‘So you think it might be one group of Watchers pitted against the other.’

  ‘Makes sense because the council is doing that with the subjects. They are pitting Azazel and me against each other.’

  The discussion took a much darker turn. This was getting to the core of what was irritating me. I was being manipulated again, and that pissed me off no end. Why was I taking orders from the council to start with? Was it the disorientation because I finally had some kind of explanation for what was happening to me? Were they taking advantage of that? Or did I somehow long to finally belong somewhere?

  Panat saw the confusion and conflict in me. He moved his chair closer and put his arm around me, pulling me close. I rested my head on his shoulder. It felt good. He had a way of soothing the unrest inside me. Though we weren’t intimate in a sexual way. We did have the deeper intimacy that comes with love.

  There, I thought it out loud in my head. The L word —Love.

  What the hell was I getting myself into?

  And what could I do to quell the rising stress?

  It was just a question of time before the beast had to be released.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  The evening with Panat helped me to order my thoughts and emotions. Acknowledging the feelings that I had for him gave me peace. I no longer had to fight the inevitable. That was one less tension in my life, and believe me I had enough.

  But our conversations also brought other feelings and comprehensions to the surface.

  I was being manipulated again. The puppet-master in all this is Joseph, and he was a pro. He had been doing this for a long time. My doubts about him were growing every day. He was way too slick and there were a lot of unanswered questions where he was concerned. For starters—how old was he? Panat didn’t know either.

  ‘He has always been there.’ He told me. ‘The clans never had much interaction, only at the highest level. Sure, the leaders knew each other, but the rest of us just kept to our own clans. There was never really cause to meet each other. Not until Aze went rogue.’

  Panat only met Joseph in person once before we arrived in Holland. He had seen him before in the hologram room, but physically they had met three years before I turned up. He had no recollection of how Joseph looked more than ten years ago. But he did mention that the man didn’t seem to age.

  The Watchers lived longer than regular humans, one-hundred and thirty was no exception with them. But they did age. Only slower.

  What was Joseph after? What did he stand to gain if—and when—I killed Azazel? Part of me could not reconcile the man with the mission. There had to be more. Or maybe I was just paranoid. Ok I am, but still…

  And then there was Aze. Someone like me. Someone who had been around for centuries. He knew so much more than I did about immortality and how to survive it. It seemed like an oxymoron. How to survive immortality? But that was exactly what kept me busy every single day. He could help me. Help me come to terms with all this. But no, I was apparently destined to kill him.

  Another thing was the balance. How did I balance who I was with what I have become? Deep down inside, I was still the person that I once was long ago when I was still human. I still had the same basic morals and ethics. Only now I had to reconcile myself with the fact that I could not live by what was so clear to me— “Thou shalt not kill.”

  I kill, a lot, and there is no end in sight. It just keeps happening. I’m not looking for excuses. I’m the one killing. I know that. And most of the time it is a conscious choice. I am responsible for that choice. No one else. But still. I choose who, and why, but I have no choice in the actual deed. I’m compelled to kill. It is my nature now. My Primal nature. There is no escaping the Primal. The only way that I can mitigate that is by choosing who my victims will be. Basically, by playing God—Judge, jury and executioner.

  And even that was being manipulated by the Watchers. They had expertly manipulated all the reasons why I had to do this. Why there was no other option. But was that true? What if I spoke to Azazel? What if we came to an understanding? He had to know about me by now. The mole must have filled him in about who I was and what my mission was. I believed that he didn’t want to die. He’d been around so long, if he were suicidal he would have done something about that by then. He’d found his balance.

  What were his thoughts about all this?

  Was he someone who would listen to reason? But why should he? He was basically living his life as a God. There was nothing that could touch him.

  Only me…….

  I played with these thoughts. About what I would say. How he would react. Deep down inside I knew discussing options was out of the question. I needed every ounce of my self-restraint to stay sane even at this distance. There were no bets on how I would react if and when we actually come face to face.

  But, what if?

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  They thought they were safe in Canterbury.

  Nothing was further from the truth.

  Azazel grew weary with waiting for Anadi and decided to force the issue. He would take the battle to her. Give her an incentive to go after him. Not a patient man by any standards, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and dread about Anadi. She was like him—a God. But she was also on a mission to kill him. And If there were ever anyone who could—it would be her. It had to be her.

  He was torn between anticipation and apprehension. Would he die? Or would they somehow join forces?

  Whatever the outcome, he had no intention of waiting to find out. His mole had finally come through. Anadi was in Canterbury. At last—she was close. He would get to meet her. Not voluntarily of course for her. She would not agree to a friendly chat. Her “mission” was counter-productive to that. She was out to kill him. Well, let her try. He had taken care of one of her kind before.

  Ok he hadn’t—she had committed suicide. But that was beside the point. He had driven her to do it, so ultimately, he was responsible for her death. Only now that was not the outcome that he was looking for. He wanted her alive. He wanted her as an ally.

  But first he had to get her involved. Really involved. The waiting game was over.

  He would push her buttons. And what better way than to get to her heart.

  His mole had been adamant about that. “It was the only way to get to the cold bitch”. There was a lot of anger there. A lot of resentment. Love rebuked. He could always count on that.

  He would go after her heart.

  That would unnerve her, if all went well.

  He was off to Canterbury. It would finally get interesting.

  Sarah phoned Gideon early in the afternoon. Gideon put the phone on speaker, not that it was necessary, we could hear the excitement from across the room.

  ‘You need to get over here right now’ she said. ‘Rafael just went into the Old Weavers Inn.’ He’s sitting at a table near the bar, talking to a guy with red hair. This is the opportunity to tail him, he could lead us to Aze.’

  Rafael was one of Azazel’s acolytes. The main man in his entourage. He was the reason that we were in Canterbury. This was where we might come in contact with someone from Azazel’s group. That was what we were waiting for. And finally, it was happening.

  And whatever the reason he was here, we couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to put a tail on him. We also needed to hear what he and the other guy were talking about. Maybe we would finally get a handle on how to proceed. To be completely frank, we didn’t have a clue. We were winging it, and badly. Our only plan was to follow Rafe. Not really a great plan, or detailed in any way.

  I was just about ready to throw in the towel and get the hell out of here. The whole mission was looking stupider every day. And I was almost at my wits end. My moods were black as coal, and my temper flared with every word that was spoken to me. I had even snapped at Panat this morning. I needed either to get out of here or to kill someone. Probably both.

  ‘We have no way of knowing whether Rafael can recognise any of us
. So we need to be careful.’ Panat took the lead. ‘Stay out of sight, Sarah. Make sure that you do not arouse any suspicion.’ I was already grabbing my coat. We were in the hotel, about five minutes from where Sarah was now, in the town centre.

  ‘I’m sitting on the terrace just before the bridge. It’s far enough from the Weavers and besides it’s very busy. I don’t think he has any idea that he is being watched’ Sarah answered. ‘But get here quickly.’ With that she hung up.

  I pulled my knitted cap over my bunched-up hair and followed the others out the door. We headed through the pub on to the street and turned towards the town centre. The closer we got, the busier it became, with whole busloads of tourists by the sound of the different languages. They irritated me. Standing in the way, hampering our progress. Mind you, everything irritated me now.

  Gideon’s phone rang again. He listened, then turned to Panat. ‘Rafael just left the Weavers and is on his way to the bus station.’ We turned left at the High street and were quickly immersed in the crowds. Gideon spotted Sarah and we wove through the masses until we were behind her. She pointed to a large man in a long Australian-type coat walking about twenty metres in front of us.

  We kept a steady distance as we followed him. But it was difficult with all the people around.

  It didn’t feel right. I looked around. To the side and finally behind us. In the corner of my eye I just managed to register a redheaded man who ducked into a shop door. I got the distinct feeling that the followers—us—were being followed in turn. I turned back to tell Panat, but he was nowhere to be seen. Standing still, I scanned the crowd. I saw Gideon about thirty metres in front of me, but where was Panat? Swinging around I searched the countless people in the busy street. There. To my left, he and Sarah had crossed the busy pedestrian street and were about twenty-five metres from the French terrace where he and I had spent the evening two days ago.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. This was seriously wrong. I glanced behind me again and saw the redheaded man approaching, not trying to hide anymore. He was on a collision course headed straight towards me. He unbuttoned his coat and his hand went to a contraption he wore around his waist. I called out to Panat on the other side of the street. He stopped moving and turned towards my voice. At that precise moment, I saw Sarah turn and stab him in the neck with something.

  Everything after that seemed like slow motion. Panat grabbed at his neck and pulled the syringe out, throwing it down. As he fell to the ground I saw Rafael grab him under the shoulders and pull him into the alleyway.

  I fought against the flow of people to get to Panat. Pushing people aside left and right, with no sympathy for any pain I might inflict. At exactly that moment, the redhead jumped in front of me and pulled the handle on his belt. I pushed him away violently and then all hell broke loose.

  The bomb killed at least ten people in the overcrowded street. There were screams and crying all around. My head hurt like hell. The ringing in my ears was deafening. I shook my head in an attempt to clear the incessant noise. My wounds were already healing, in stark contrast to all the other wounded around me. But I was disoriented in a major way.

  Slowly, I got to my feet. My equilibrium was off and I stumbled. Trying to get my balance, I turned towards the narrow alley way where I had seen Panat being abducted just moments before. Through the dust from the blast I just made out the entrance to the Butchers Alley and made my way there. I almost fell over the body of a woman, but righted myself and continued. I had to find Panat.

  I stood at the entrance to the alley and leaned against a shop wall to catch my breath. It was dark in the small space between the old Tudor buildings. The dust cleared and I could make out a figure at the far end of the narrow street. Slowly he came into focus.

  It was him!

  It was Azazel.

  I was astounded. Glued to the spot.

  Whether it was the result of the blast, the fact that I hadn’t expected him, or just the proximity of another force, I don’t know. But it hit me like a brick wall. It was a physical blow that knocked the breath out of me. I staggered back to the wall.

  The darkness of the alleyway was framed by an almost unnatural sunlight. He was standing right in the middle of the bright rays at the far end of the narrow street.

  Once my eyes became accustomed to the brightness, I saw that he had what looked like a twisted smile on his face. He was laughing at me, or so it seemed. Maybe I was just imagining that.

  I tried to move, but my body refused. There was a general mutiny going on inside me. All the impressions that I was experiencing were vying for attention, throwing my mind and body into disarray. All I could do was look at him, at the handsome and fascinating man who had just kidnapped my soul-mate.

  I shook my head, gathered all my strength, pushed my body off the wall, and took a first step towards Azazel. He smiled once again, then in an exaggerated sense of flair, he bowed to me, swinging his arm in an almost medieval manner. Quite the dandy.

  He was mocking me. It angered me and gave me back some control over my body. Outraged I took another unsteady step towards Aze, then another. And then… … Everything went black.

  Gideon saw Anadi go down in the opening of the alleyway. He had been outside the direct blast area when the bomb went off, and had only sustained minor injuries. Some scratches, nothing more. For once, being short had been an advantage. The taller people around him had taken the brunt of the flying debris—protecting him. He made his way through the chaos to Anadi.

  She was lying on the street covered in blood. Her’s and other people’s. The bomb had gone off almost in front of her. It was only due to her Primal Nature, and that she had pushed the redhead away, that she was still alive. Gideon knelt down and found her pulse. He turned her on her back and did a cursory search for major wounds. There were none. Her body had already healed most of them. A ragged piece of metal stuck out of her shoulder. He pulled it out and the skin immediately started to close. She was out cold though. He pushed the hair out of her face and brushed the dust off. The blood on her skin smeared, but there was no wound. He called her name, trying to wake her. There was no way that he could carry her out of here in his own.

  Slowly, his calls had the desired effect and she haltingly came back to consciousness.

  I could hear a voice calling to me through the whining in my head. It sounded like my name, again and again. I focussed on the sound and tried to make my way to where it was coming from. It was hard going. Lots of light and loud noises that hurt my head.

  Finally, I opened my eyes and looked into Gideon’s face. It was blurry, but I could make out that it was him. Bit by bit, I started to focus. I was lying on the ground in the alley. Understanding flowed over me and I sat up. Too quickly as it turned out. Everything blurred again. Leaning back, I took a deep breath. Gideon was talking.

  ‘Slowly, Anadi. You were at the front of the blast. And I think you lost a lot of blood.’

  I took his advice and slowly, very slowly, raised myself into a sitting position. The world still swam around in my vision, but it was better than a few moments ago.

  I turned to look at the opposite end of the alley. It was empty.

  ‘He was here.’ I said.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Azazel.’ Gideon was shocked.

  ‘What happened? I can’t find Panat or Sarah.’

  ‘He has Panat.’ Gideon went pale.

  ‘What?’ he stammered. ‘How?’

  I put my head in my hands in an attempt to stop the incessant whining and to order my thoughts. The pain from the blast was intense, but I could also feel the Primal coming through. It was eating at the edge of my restraint, urging me to give in. But if I did, then there would be more blood, and not mine. I couldn’t let that happen. I pushed it back—for now.

  ‘Sarah’ I explained. ‘She took Panat over to the other side of the street. I saw the redheaded guy that Rafael had been talking to coming at me, so I called out to Panat. Sarah
stuck him with something and he collapsed. She and Rafael dragged him away. I tried to get to him, then the blast went off.’

  He encouraged me to continue.

  ‘Then, when I could finally focus again I moved towards this alley and there he was—Azazel—at the end of the alley. I tried to get to him but it was as though something hit me in the gut. Then I lost consciousness.’

  I put my hand on the street and attempted to push myself up into a standing position. Gideon helped me. He supported me as I took the first few steps into the alley.

  We should stay where we were, the police and the ambulances were on the scene now and they would want all the info they could get. But how would we explain that I had been in the front of the blast and survived with all my limbs intact? It would cause too many questions I was not prepared to answer. Besides, it wouldn’t help anyway. And we needed to get out of here.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  They went back to the hotel.

  It seemed as though the whole town was running in the direction of the town centre—to find out what had happened no doubt. The blast had been loud and Canterbury was built in a tight pattern with all the houses close to each other. The narrow alleys and streets had amplified the sound of the bomb. The smoke was another dead giveaway.

  Gideon and Anadi stumbled towards the Miller’s Arms, occasionally getting strange looks due to all the blood on Anadi’s clothes. One person offered help, but they refused, thanking him and pointing the Good Samaritan in the direction of the chaos where he could help.