A Beast Among Gods (The Mac Tire Chronicles)

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A Beast Among Gods (The Mac Tire Chronicles) Page 1

by Garnet Davenport




  Contents

  Title/Author

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Note From The Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  This book is a work of fiction. Names. Characters or likeness, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination pr are to be used fictitiously for an element of the book. Any mention of mythological characters are based solely for fiction and are not to be considered as true mythology.

  Copyright © 2021 by Garnet Davenport

  Cover design by Fantasia Cover Designs

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Love is pure.

  Love is kind.

  Love is more.

  Love is death.

  Thank you for picking up A Beast Among Gods. This is the first novella in The Mac Tire Chronicles series. This book should be read after Emerald Secrets. Before you read on this book is about Striker. It is only from his perspective and as you know he has gone through a lot during his time on earth. Hints have been given to the trauma that he has had to endure along the way. He’s strong though and will keep fighting. A few secrets are revealed during this novella that have a lot to do with how the series will end. There’s a lot of death. It’s not pretty. There’s ugliness. There’s tears. There’s strength and loneliness.

  Obsidian Secrets, book 4, will reveal it all. Then A Slave Among Gods will release to explain the rest. You may even see other point of views and a spinoff series later on. So, I hope you enjoy.

  To follow me for more news about this series and more make sure you sign up for my newsletter on my website: www.garnetdavenport.com

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  Follow me on TikTok @authorgarnetdavenport https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeNj36YN/

  Don’t forget to leave a review so others can find this series and more by me. Being an indie author is hard and every review helps.

  ➣ Chapter 1

  In the Dark of Night

  William

  Age Five

  “William.” The faintest whisper tickled the hairs on the back on my neck. I know I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t let anything come into focus. “William, Sweetie. We’ve got to go.” I opened my eyes and rolled over to look my mom in the eyes.

  I rubbed the back of my finger in my eye to clear the fog. “Mommy?” She finally came into full focus.

  She nodded. “We’ve got to go.” She stood and grabbed my Captain America backpack from the doorknob and started stuffing clothes into it. I realized this was it. She was finally going to leave my abusive father and run. This was what she was whispering about to Aunt Gloria the other day. She planned this. The day we would escape.

  I jumped out of bed. I was wearing my green Hulk pajamas and grabbed my favorite action figures from my night stand. She wouldn’t make me leave them, would she? She looked over her shoulder, probably to make sure I was out of bed, and shook her head.

  “Only one baby, we don’t have the room.”

  Tears built up in my eyes, and I started to cry. If I was going to leave my home, I wasn’t going to leave without my action figures. She came to me and bent down in front of me, “William, we can’t. Only what’s necessary.”

  “They are necessary,” I explained with staggered breaths. She looked around my room as if she didn’t have time to deal with my emotional reaction to just some toys. I knew they meant more to me than just toys. Every year on my birthday, I got a new action figure, and so now I had five of them: Captain America (my favorite), Hulk, Iron Man, Hawk Eye, and Superman. Superman is DC and not Marvel. But he’s still really cool. My Uncle says Superman is the shit. Whatever that means. I thought shit meant doggy poop. My father had yelled at the gardener one day about a dog shitting on the grass. Shit was definitely dog poop, which subsequently meant that Superman was dog poop.

  My mom spots another backpack, just my size, and held it open for me to stuff everything inside of it. After I got them all in, I grabbed the soft brown puppy stuffed animal off my bed and barely crammed it into my backpack. I took a look around my room for the last time, and my mom grabbed my hand and we walked out of my room. She kept me close behind her while she peered around corners and looked for my father’s guards. They had a schedule, and I knew they would stick to it. We would be able to leave. Then we would be on our own. Just the way she wanted it. My father wouldn’t find out until morning that she was even missing. That I was missing. They haven’t slept in the same room in years. At least that’s what the maid says to the housekeeper.

  This moment should have been frightening for a five-year-old. But my father was the frightening one. Everything about the man terrified me. His dark hair and almost black eyes bore into me when he watches anything I do, and his voice was the deepest voice I’ve ever heard. It sounded like a lion roaring when he whispered, which wasn’t often, in fact, never.

  My mom pulled me down the hallway toward the back door. The alarm had already been turned off, and she slid through the door, pulling me against her back. Her giant purse rubbed just over my head. She must have all her belongings she wanted to take in her purse. I hoped there was a juice box. Sneaking out of the house was thirsty business.

  I could see her waiting for the security cameras to swivel away from us. I remember seeing inside the security office one day. I barely saw the TV screens covering the walls before I was rushed from the room and demanded to go to my own room and stay there.

  My mom was anxious. She kept looking around, her eyes never focused on one single spot. We almost ran from the house that I had known all of my life. Where I never left and this was the first time I would set foot outside the property line and could remember it.

  Around the corner from our drive was an old blue four-door car. There was another woman in the car. Older. Kind eyes as my mom opened the back door and strapped me into a carseat that had already been put into the car. The woman kept her eyes on me. They started to shine with water. Why was she looking at me like that? I clutched my bookbag to my chest and looked at my mom.

  “We’re safe. I promise,” she whispered to me and then caressed my cheek before she pulled away from me and got into the front seat. She breathed out a sigh, and the woman started driving.

  “Did anyone see anything?” the woman asked.

  “I hope not. I’m sure we would have an army chasing after us if he knew.”

  “Honey, I’ve missed you,” the woman spoke with shaky words.

  “Mom, I’ve missed you too. Let’s get as far away from here as we can,” my mom said.

  Was this woman my grandmother? I
had knowledge of this type of family member. My father’s mother had come to see me on my last birthday. She told me to call her Grandmama. But she looked like she was the same age as my father.

  “How are you feeling? Still sick?”

  I looked from the older woman to my mom, and she nodded her head. Was my mom sick? She couldn’t be. I needed her. She couldn’t leave me. Who would take care of me? Love me? The woman reached over and patted my mom on the leg.

  “It’ll go in time. You’re only about eight weeks along.”

  I felt more and more confused as they talked, but before long, I was drifting off. I woke when the woman that was possibly my grandmother carried me into a run-down motel somewhere along the journey. She had tried to be quiet, but I was on edge with all the excitement and nerves. I wiggled with uncertainty in her arms, and she chuckled.

  “All right. Down you go. Catch up with your mama.” She smiled at me. It was new to me. The love people could share with each other before they really knew one another was amazing.

  I had caught up with my mom and put my hand in hers. “Sweetie?”

  “Mommy, what’s going on? Are we hiding from him?”

  She knew who I was talking about. I didn’t like calling him Dad or Daddy. I just tried to avoid calling him anything at all. In fact, I would avoid him altogether if possible. It wasn’t too hard to stay off his radar. He was always busy with meetings and appointments. Mom had never been upset by his lack of attention.

  “Come here baby,” she cooed.

  I crawled into her lap and wrapped my arms around her waist as much as I could. I wasn’t able to touch my fingers, but she was right there—in my grasp. I wish I could have pressed pause on that moment with her. One where she was possibly the happiest she would ever be. We had gotten away. She had the possibility of a future for us in her grasp.

  “We are going to go live with a friend for a little while. She invited us to come visit her and wants us to keep her company. Is that all right?”

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “Nan. She is very excited to meet you. She’s heard so much about you.”

  “Did you tell her about me?”

  “I did. But she also heard about you from some of her other friends.”

  Her comment hadn’t made sense to me at the time, but it would all come together after I found my home and my forever. But that’s another story, one that is not mine to tell. My mom studied me for a long moment. Finally swiping my hair from my forehead before she kissed my temple.

  “I will love you for always, mo mac tire beag.”

  As I laid there with my mom, she gently fingered my hair until I fell into a deep sleep.

  ➣ Chapter 2

  The Day That Changed Everything

  When the sun came up in the morning, I was lying by myself on the hotel bed. I sat Captain America up on the bed and turned on the TV for him to watch. Then, I scooted off the bed and walked sleepily to the bathroom. “Mom?” I said into the corner of the doorframe.

  “Hold on just a second,” I heard her call out, but it was muffled. Within the next few seconds, my mom swung open the bathroom door and gave me the warmest smile. “Good morning.”

  “Mommy, I gotta go,” I said, wiggling while keeping my legs crossed.

  She giggled and stepped to the side so I could run to the toilet. When I came back out, she had a granola bar and a fruit cup sitting on the little table beside the bed for me. I wish we had some milk, but I guess she wasn’t able to get cold milk for me.

  “Eat up, baby boy. We’ve got to get going soon,” Mom said.

  I had just taken a bite from my granola bar when there was a rushed knock at the door. Mom stopped packing; she grabbed something from her bag and tucked it behind her. She turned back to look at me. There was some kind of fear in her eyes. She put her finger over her lips to indicate I needed to be quiet while she answered the door. I guess she hadn’t been expecting anyone.

  She left the chain on the door and opened it just slightly.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, opening the door for whoever it was to come in.

  The same woman from last night who had to have been my grandmother walked through the door, and then my mom closed the door and slid the chain into place.

  “Were you able to find what I needed?” she asked.

  My grandmother lifted a small, brown paper bag. “I did.” She handed the bag to my mom, and she smiled. “I know. But you are just so easily spotted. You’ve got to do it.”

  “I know,” she said, looking in the bag and frowning.

  “Better get to it. I’ll sit with William.”

  “Okay. Mommy will be just in the bathroom.”

  “All right,” I said and continued to eat my granola bar while Captain America and I watched cartoons.

  When my mom shut the door to the bathroom, my grandmother smiled at me. “I also got something for you.” I perked up with excitement. “Here you go,” she said while she pulled a McDonald’s biscuit out of her purse and handed it to me. I could smell the bacon wafting from the wrapper. I felt my mouth salivate, and I reached for it. She chuckled and handed it right over. “That’s my boy.”

  I tore open the wrapper and saw there was more bacon than normal. My nose was going crazy sniffing all the delicious scents. I felt like I could have eaten at least six of them. I was so hungry. My grandmother sat and watched as I devoured the entire biscuit.

  “What have you and Captain America been up to this morning?” she said with a smile as she pushed my shaggy hair out of my eyes.

  “Mom said I could watch cartoons.”

  She looked at the box TV and smiled again. “I like The Jetsons too.”

  We sat there for another hour before Mom came out of the bathroom. When she did, her hair had changed. Her hair now a dark brown and cut to shoulder length. She immediately started to pick things up around the hotel room and stuff it into her backpack. “We’ve got to get going. She’s expecting us in late tonight.”

  “This is Nantosuelta…she will be able to protect you and William?” my grandmother asked.

  “She said the prophecy is coming. We have to keep him safe.”

  “I want to keep him safe, but I want you to stay safe too. She will be able to protect you?”

  I looked over at my mom when she didn’t immediately answer the question. She came over to me and scooped me up into her arms as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I promise we will do everything possible to keep everyone safe. That’s why Grandma is going on a little vacation while we get where we need to be.”

  “You get to go on vacation? Like to the beach? I love making sand castles,” I said with exuberance.

  “Something like that,” she said and went to help clean up my things off the bed and put them into the same backpack my mom had already crammed her things. “I will take pictures when I see the beach.”

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “Promise.” She said.

  Knock. Knock.

  All of us whipped our heads to the door. Grandma looked at Mom and she mouthed, “Bathroom.” Grandma took me from my mom’s arms and hurried to the bathroom and shut the door with barely an audible click. She set me down and motioned for me to get into the bathtub. She kept her ear to the door. I could hear everything perfectly.

  “Who’s there?” I heard my mom’s voice. She sounded worried and anxious.

  “Sheriff’s Department.”

  I heard a sigh from my mom, and then she answered the door. I could hear the chain on the door as it pulled tight. She hadn’t undone the chain to speak to the man at the door. She must not have trusted him.

  “How can I help you?” Mom asked.

  “Do you mind?” the officer said.

  “I do,” my mom said.

  BANG! THUD!

  My body jumped with the racket. Tears started to run down my cheeks. I put my hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet.

  “What are you doing? GET OUT!” Mom screamed.


  “Where’s the boy?” the man yelled at her.

  “There is no one else here,” she pleaded.

  It was silent for a moment and then the man said, “He’s here.”

  “NO!” Mom yelled.

  Grandma moved the shower curtain across the bar and blocked my view of the man breaking down the bathroom door.

  “Where is he?” the man called out.

  I peeked out from the side of the shower curtain and saw the man’s hands gripping my grandmother’s clothes, bringing her close to his face. His eyes were like my dad’s when he got mad—a violent emerald green. They glowed just the same.

  “Is he in there?” another man yelled from the bedroom area of the hotel room.

  He sounded like he was close to the floor. I stretched out my senses and could see the man holding my mother to the ground with his knee in her back and her arms trapped. She couldn’t move, and he was hurting her.

  “I don’t see him,” the man said. He pushed my grandmother up against the door and growled, “Where is the boy?”

  “He’s already gone.” She spat at him. “Franco will never get him back.”

  He growled in her face. Off in the distance, I could hear sirens starting to get louder. They had to be coming to help. The real police. These men were from my father and not from the Sheriff’s Department. They weren’t even dressed like police officers.

  “Fabrizio is going to be pissed,” the man holding my grandmother called out to the other man.

  “Let’s take them both. Fabrizio wants his property back.”

  I heard my mother grunt as the man holding her to the ground pulled her up. They must have heard the sirens I had already heard because they wanted to get out of there quickly.

  “Let’s get out of here, Mick,” the man holding my grandmother said.

  As I heard my mom fight against the man called Mick, it was a quick movement that changed my entire life. A slashing sound came from the room where my mom was fighting. Soon after, her lightweight frame fell to the floor. Small gasping sounds were coming from my mom.

 

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