Beast

by James D. Horton

  A low chuckle rounds the room.

  "You, of course, are innocent of the recent fire in the warehouse district? Oh, and you know nothing of the increase of theft there do you?"

  "Of course I know of it, we all know the things that happen in the City. Are you accusing me of paying attention?" Sarah rallies back to the attack, turning to keep her eyes on the Keeper as she is circled.

  The Keeper raises one delicate hand, perfectly manicured and colored nails point to the ceiling and she makes a come hither motion. Two men come out from what must be an alcove that has been hidden behind one of the tapestries. Between them they drag a bruised and beaten man, his face is swelling and he smells of sweat and blood. They each have him by one arm and his legs hang limp, scratching along the marble floor as they haul him forward.

  "Are you sure Sarah?" The Keeper says, stopping between Sarah and the Regent.

  The Regent watches impassively. Someone to the left titters softly as anticipation builds. Sarah looks down at the man, then back at the Keeper. I can feel her calculating her next move.

  "Perhaps I mistook the intentions," Sarah says at last.

  "Oh?" The Keeper says, not willing to let her off the hook that easily it seems. "A mistake?" She smiles, small fangs pressing into her perfect lips.

  I've always been a straight woman but even so I find myself wanting to taste those lips, to run my tongue over those fangs. I am reminded of the earlier confrontation with Griogar, these vampires must have a supernatural sway over human bodies. I feel like a yo-yo played on a string.

  "Of course, I'm sure now this must have been a misunderstanding," Sarah hedges.

  "I see," the Keeper replies. "So you don't know this one?" She points down at the beaten man. "You are not the progenitor of this one? You did not send him on a 'special' mission?"

  The trap closes around Sarah and she knows it. I feel fear coming off her in waves as her eyes flash wildly around the room, desperate for escape. The two men holding the beaten one let his arms go and he hits the floor with a thud, only then do I notice he is not breathing.

  "No, he is not one of mine," Sarah says. "I apologize for wasting the Assembly's time." She begins to back away.

  "Sarah," the Regent speaks for the first time since Sarah came forward. His voice is soft, almost a whisper but she freezes in place at it. "We are not beasts. We do not kill our own kind."

  "Of course Regent, we all know this. That is the Law!" I can hear the emphasis on the word law in her voice. If they do not kill their own kind, then what happened last week when Wolf and I killed Stones?

  "Yes, the Law." The Regent's voice rises to a normal volume. He speaks to Sarah but his eyes lock with Wolf. "The Law must be followed. The Law is all that separates us from animals. It is what contains the beast inside." I feel Wolf bristling next to me, something in him rising to the challenge presented, not backing down and it raises more goose bumps on my arm.

  "Madam Keeper, what is the punishment for attempting murder?" the Regent asks.

  "Oh," the Keeper is coy, licking her lips again. "Negative impacts to one's reputation and of course the voluntary giving up of some property deemed of equivalent value. Virgil is young and of low value, as well he did provoke her. I would say three blocks of territory as well as hosting the next Assembly and providing refreshment from her own herd."

  "Agreed," the Regent says.

  The Keeper returns to her place by the Regent's side. A tension hangs in the room as if every vampire there is waiting to pounce. I can feel them daring Sarah to react, they want her to lash out. I see the fat rolls on Sarah's neck vibrate as if she is struggling to not move, then she goes preternaturally still.

  "Of course Regent," she says at last and Wolf chuckles next to me. Sarah's eyes dart around the room again; I can feel the desire to run pulsing off of her. She has the look of a cornered animal as she slowly backs her way out, obviously struggling to stay in control and to not turn away and run.

  "Very well, what is next on the agenda for Assembly tonight?" The Regent calls out and the tension drains from the room. I try to process what I just witnessed. They traded parts of the city for peace. Bile rises in my throat once more as I realize they are trading human lives like poker chips in a high stakes game. Her payment had been in people. I am not a person to these creatures, not a human. I’m food, property.

  I sink back against the wall, exhausted without knowing why. An hour passes as different people approach the Regent and Keeper with similar results. It becomes clear that human life is nothing to them, simply a bargaining chip to be used in this game of lives they play.

  Wolf watches it all without reaction and I do my best to emulate him, stone still against the wall but I'm betrayed by my own body's needs. I can't stand as still, I have to breathe, and my muscles get tired. I stand up from the wall and stretch, running my fingers through my red dyed hair to pull out any tangles.

  As I return to leaning on the wall the Keeper looks directly at me.

  "Now there is the matter of Dallas," she says.

  I gasp, locking my eyes on hers and wishing I hadn't. Her slight smile and shocking green eyes pull me in and it feels like the floor drops out. My heart beats faster and my pulse becomes a throb of desire. I want her; I want to feel her tongue on my body, her fingers on my flesh. Something in me resists, and then I hear a low growl as Wolf steps between us which breaks my gaze from hers. My knees shake and I put a hand against his back to brace myself. She can't do that to me! I inhale a deep, steadying breath and look up, furious at myself and her.

  "Yes Dallas," the Regent says. "Come before Assembly."

  Wolf walks forward and I don't want to be on my own so I walk stiffly behind him, anger tight in my chest.

  "Dallas, your property murdered Gregory Stones," the Keeper says.

  "She must stand trial for her crimes," the Regent says, pitching his baritone voice over Wolf's snarl. "We are NOT animals Dallas," he speaks vehemently now. "Your desire to live apart from society does not give you the right to flaunt the law!"

  "Trial by Combat, I had death rights." Wolf says.

  "That does not give rights to a mortal over one of us!" The Regent's voice rises in anger. "Property does not have power; property does not get to decide life and death!" My hands ball into fists. Property? I'm a god damned human being!

  Wolf towers over the Regent but he doesn't back down. The monster in the Regent must be under complete control, I can feel Wolf resisting the urge to kill as the hair on my arms stands on end, but the Regent stands without reacting at all. The room is silent and tense. The two men face off like dogs sizing each other up, neither backing down, not even blinking as they stare at each other.

  "Without the Law, there is chaos. You may choose to embrace your beast, society does not!" The Regent's words are punctuated by several couples's moans apparently climaxing at the same time. Wolf's hand closes to a fist but I see the claws starting to extend before he hides it. His mouth is pulled back into a snarl, baring his fangs. Murder hangs in the air between these two men. "She must stand trial. It is the Law!"

  "When," Wolf growls.

  "Two nights hence," the Regent says.

  "Agreed."

  I look between Wolf and the Regent in disbelief as they discuss my fate without once consulting me. A smile spreads across the Regent's face as Wolf capitulates to him. I don't even think, my hand is in motion before any conscious thought and it connects with the Regent's face, slapping him squarely across the jaw. My palm stings from the impact but I am rewarded as the Regent's head rocks to the side.

  "I am NOT your chattel!" I yell at him.

  I don't see the blow that takes me down. The next thing I know, I am on the floor and looking up at the Regent, tasting blood in my mouth. Tears of pain and anger stream down my face, blurring my vision. I feel my jaw with my hand, gingerly testing it, the pain is intense but I don't feel anything broken. I do feel the imprint of his ring on my face. The room is silent as I struggle
to my feet, my head still spinning.

  I feel Wolf grab me roughly and pull me behind him, blocking my view of the Regent. He backs towards the door, keeping his eye on the Regent as we retreat. I stumble along behind him, struggling to get my bearings. He doesn't stop until I'm pressed against the back wall of the elevator behind him and I hear the door ding close. Then he turns to look at me, I expect anger but I see respect. Well, maybe anger, too.

  "Damn stupid," he growls. I feel the beast in him beating against me in waves of frustration mixed with what feels like desire. He shakes his head then turns away from me. I blink to clear my eyes, shaking my head gently to try and clear it.

  "I'm not property," I mumble, reaching up gingerly to my bruised face.

  "Here, you are." Wolf's voice implies finality. "Now we have to fix this shit." He is angry and his fury is growing. I groan inside. This is not going to end well, for me or someone else is the only open question.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I

  rush to keep pace with Wolf as he storms through town. I can feel his anger beating against my skin in waves of heat and danger that slam into me with each step we take. I start breathing hard in my effort to keep up with him. His rage is like an assault on some primal instinct in me, something tells me to run, a danger sense from humankind's earliest days living in caves and hunting prehistoric beasts. He slows as we enter the woods and I stop just inside the trees, putting my hands on my knees I gasp trying to catch my breath.

  "Wolf, what the hell?" I grab for his arm, trying to stop him.

  He turns fast, growling; his fangs are bared and glint in moonlight. His full height looms over me and my already struggling heart stops. I can't breathe, I can't move, fear clamps down on me and I see the monster behind the man. His cheeks are sunken, his eyes are edged with a red tint, his nose seems to be elongating and I sense more than I see the nails of his hands extending into claws. My bladder tightens, sweat soaks me but I can't move, frozen like a bird mesmerized by the snake that will be its doom. His hand raises back and I know this is it, the end; it's what I get for my time with a vampire.

  Somewhere in the distance a wolf howls. Wolf stands before me with the preternatural stillness only a vampire can manage. No breath, no blinking, none of the myriad of small movements of someone alive. My heart beats again, going from stop to jackhammer rate in an instant. My legs quiver, I push with all my will to remain standing, to keep my eyes locked with his. His hand slowly lowers, his face relaxes in stages, the fangs retreat first, and then his lips lower to a scowl. His cheeks fill back out and his nose appears to shrink looking less like a snout. I take one shaky breath which burns as it enters my lungs.

  Wolf turns from me moving away several paces before he crouches down, one hand touching the dirt of the forest. He brings that hand to his face and I hear him sniffing the dirt, his head bowed. One of the giant wolves he keeps as friends or pets, I'm still not sure, walks up to him and nuzzles his neck. Idly, he scratches behind its ears, for all the world like it is any house broken dog. My clothes are uncomfortably clingy and soaked with my sweat; the night air causes me to shiver with chills. I want to be anywhere but here. I wait for him to speak, still afraid to move.

  "Wolf," I say at last softly. "Please . . ." Please? Please what? Tears form in my eyes then start streaming no matter how I fight against them. I sniff trying to hold them back. My knees finally give out and I drop to the dirt. The tensions, the fear, all combine to overwhelm my remaining strength. On my hands and knees, my head bowed to the ground, once more having faced death, it all comes in on me. I see Stones's head, the sick splatter; I feel the kick of the gun as it recoils in my hand. I remember the terror of being attacked and the helpless feeling of not being able to fight back. I still can't fight back, that has just been proved tonight. My stomach heaves and I have no ability to stop it, bile and half digested food pours forth, making me cry all the harder.

  Something nudges my side, and then a rough tongue licks my face, lapping at my tears. With blurry eyes I see the wolf is nuzzling at me. I'm just too tired to be afraid anymore, too drained. I put an arm around its neck. If it kills me, I probably deserve it. Maybe that is the best I can hope for, I'm a murderer now. I killed Stones without a moment’s hesitation. What kind of person can do that? What am I becoming? I bury my face in the wolf's fur and let out one last sob. I inhale deeply, feeling the soft warmth of the animal and it helps me start putting my composure back together. I try to put on the mask of Lynx. Lily is weak, Lily is prey. Lynx is a predator.

  "Wolf," I say, ignoring the slight quaver in my voice. He is watching me, judging me. "What does this all mean?" He stares at me with amber eyes. My emotions conflict inside; remorse, fear, and want blend into a confusion that I push down. Focus on the moment, right now. Nothing else matters but this moment.

  "Trouble," he says at last.

  "I got that," I yell, my voice rising now in anger. "Now get over the fucking man of few words crap and lay it out for me!" Anger is better than fear, anger is warm and embracing, anger pushes me to survive, to not give in.

  Wolf smirks, the closest he ever comes to a smile apparently, at least from what I've seen, and then he nods.

  "There are Laws," he says with emphasis on the Laws. "It is how they contain the beast inside. They gild it around with gold and treasure to control when they let it out. It is how they avoid losing themselves to its embrace."

  To control the beast. This has something to do with what Griogar was talking about and some things start to come clear to me. Like the way I can feel Wolf and the others, the differences in their animal natures.

  "So it's part of your . . . vampire state?"

  Wolf nods. "It is the source of our power and their curse."

  "Their curse? Not yours?" I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  "Why not? Why are you different?"

  "I'm stronger than they are," he says softly. "I walk a much older path, different than their constraints. No gilded cages, no false facade, I embrace what I am."

  "What is the forbidden fruit then?" An idea is starting to form in my mind.

  Wolf shakes his head again. "No," he says.

  I wait for him to say more but he just sits there staring at me. "So the 'beast' that is what you call it?"

  Wolf nods.

  "It gives you your power, but ..." I try to wrap my mind around this. "What does it want?"

  "Blood," he says and I sense something surge in him at the word.

  "So... feed it?" I make it a question, it seems so simple. I've seen him feed on animals at least and now I've seen the city dwellers and their preferences as well.

  "Not enough. It doesn't stop, it wants destruction, it wants death, and it wants to bathe in it then still have more. Once it's free, there is no stopping it." His explanation is terrifying.

  I shudder, the image of blood spatter flashes in my mind. "Well note to self, let's not do that."

  Wolf continues to stare at me. I try to organize my thoughts, my stomach is still rolling. I need to move. "Can we go to the river?" He nods to my request and we rise.

  I use the time walking to think, sorting out what I now know. The beast, it implies so much, is it what I imagine? A monster inside the shell of this man? His steady gait, the swing of those long legs, that chiseled face, is it a wrapping for a monster? Of course it is, he's a vampire for Christ-sake! A monster, one who kills. My hand feels the phantom weight of the gun in my hand, the sudden recoil as I squeeze the trigger. He's not the only one.

  The sound of the river breaks into my reverie. Several nights ago I would shudder at the thought of a cold river for a bath, now I can't think of anything else I'd rather do. I drop the guns from my side and walk eagerly into the water fully clothed, shuddering and gasping as the cold rises up my legs. Wolf stands on the river side watching me but not entering the water. I duck my head quickly to wet my hair and scrub my face with my bare hands, rinsing away dried tears and sweat. It feels bette
r.

  I dunk again, then when I rise up with water streaming down my face I see him staring at me. I feel his eyes moving over my body and tension forms in my stomach. I feel desire pouring out of him which my body answers with my own.

  "Is this the beast?" I ask my voice soft, low and throaty. I walk out of the water towards him. "This desire you feel, I feel?" I reach him where he stands, tall and silent, amber eyes staring down at me. I press my hands against his chest, sliding them up and pushing at the black duster he wears, moving it off his shoulders and letting it slide to the ground. I press myself against him, feeling my breasts crush between us, the beat of my heart falls into a rhythm with the pulsing need I feel emanating from him.

  "Yes," he growls. His arms close around me, his hands tangle into my long red hair, pulling my neck back. His other hand slides up my hips and presses against the small of my back, pulling me into him and I feel the hard ridge of him beneath his clothing. "It is basest desire, hunt, kill, and mate."

  My neck is exposed to him, my lips ready for his. He presses into the curve of my neck, nuzzling where my shoulder edges to my collar-bone. I feel the roughness of his tongue, desire flaring higher. I want that tongue; I want to taste him and to be tasted. A low rumble comes from him, the sound of it steadily increasing. Then he is pushing me away and I stumble.

  "No," he says, stepping back from me. He appears to be panting as if just having done some heavy exertion. His eyes are locked on me; I can feel his desire hitting me in waves. The world seems to be spinning around me, I don't understand.

  "No?" I ask. "No what? You want me, I can feel it! I want you!"

  He shakes his head at my words, backing up another step from me. "Not like this, not for . . . not yet." His words have finality to them, the desire I felt coming from him is suddenly gone, like a light switch being flicked. I stumble again when it disappears as if it has been a wall I was unknowingly leaning into or against. His words spin in my head, he turned me down. Again.

  "Am I not good enough?" I ask, bewildered.