Thad had shifted uneasily, turning to the man next to him. “What is a first encounter?”
The man had sighed. “I told you about the Blessed Mothers? Well, the first time Brother Damon has one of them, it is called a First Encounter.” He took a deep breath. “They are obviously planning one as part of the night’s festivities, and with a special woman, no less. The Majesty.”
Thad blinked. He was remembering one of the stories that he had translated from that book. A story about a human woman who would be found wandering the desert. A woman who must be taken as part of the ritual of the stars. A woman who was called the Majesty.
His heart tightened. Keeley. It must be Keeley. She had been found just days before this event was to take place. In their twisted minds, they must believe that she is the human woman foretold in the story, he thought.
And he was the one who had brought her to them. He had handed her over to them on a platter.
“Are you alright?” The man was staring at him. “You’ve gone pale.” His face changed. “It’s your friend, isn’t it? She was found with you in the desert a few days ago?”
Thad hadn’t been able to speak. He had nodded, his mind whirling. He had not been able to sleep most of the night, staring up at the stars. And when he had finally managed to, his sleep had been filled with violent visions of her screaming as a demon advanced, panting, towards her.
It was tonight. He had to do something, anything, before it happened to her.
He took a deep breath, trying to think. If the invalids were scheduled to be sacrificed before the First Encounter, then he had time. His life didn’t matter anymore. He could wait for his moment and change into the wolf, with the intention of killing Brother Damon before he touched her. They would kill him in retaliation, of course, but at least he would have saved her from the twisted fate they had in store for her.
It wasn’t a foolproof plan. Much could go wrong; it was dependent on whether they unchained them for the sacrifice. But he simply couldn’t think of anything else at this late stage.
He tried to slow his breathing down. He needed to prepare himself. Psyche himself into it. It was hours away, but he was going into battle with his old foes again.
And this time it was for the last time.
***
His eyes were closed, picturing himself as the wolf. Hurtling through the air towards Brother Damon. His fangs sinking into the demon’s neck. The soft hiss of the puncture wound as he severed the artery…
The gate creaked open. A guard strolled in. Everyone in the compound looked up, trembling. Was it time?
The guard stopped in front of Thad. “You. On your feet.”
Thad winced as he stood up. The welts on his ankles were getting worse. He could feel the iron chaffing against the raw, open wounds, causing them to bleed afresh.
The guard pushed him towards the gate.
“Godspeed,” called out the man who had spoken to him.
Thad turned to look at him. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Gazing at him with sympathy. And something else.
Respect.
He didn’t say anything. He merely turned and walked through the gate, the guard behind him.
He was lead back into the building, through twisted back corridors that were so dark he could barely see. They stopped before a small doorway. The guard opened it, and he was pushed into an ornate room.
A man was standing with his face towards the elaborate fireplace, leaning against it. A man dressed in a black suit. He was tall, and large. He slowly turned around.
“Ah.” The man smiled. His eyes were coal black. “The shapeshifter.”
Thad stared at him. Against his will, he felt his hackles rising. A growl escaped his throat.
The man laughed. “You can growl all you want, wolf, but it will do you no good,” he drawled. “If you start to change my guards will kill you in an instant.”
Thad stared at him. He had to keep it under control. He knew now was not the time. He was still in chains, and besides, he needed the element of surprise. And as the man had said, there were guards in here, watching him like a hawk.
But the wolf knew a demon. He could smell it. The scent from this particular one was so powerful it almost filled the air with its acrid odour.
The man smiled again. “I have a special place for you in tonight’s ceremony,” he said slowly. “But before that, I wanted to see you. I am Brother Damon, by the way. The leader of our glorious community out here in the desert.”
Hatred coursed through Thad’s veins. Of course. The illustrious leader, who wanted to gloat about how powerful he was to the imprisoned wolf shapeshifter before he was sacrificed. He wanted to rub it in. Salt into the wound. How he must be crowing inside, thought Thad, staring at him with contempt.
The man approached, sniffing the air. “You stink,” he stated. “Festering wounds? Yes. Those chains have made you bleed.” He smiled suddenly. “You are my second gift, shapeshifter. The chance to see you die as my race approaches its ascendancy will be one of the sweetest things tonight. A very fitting end to the pack that have blighted my race from the beginning of time.”
“You won’t win,” hissed Thad, glaring at him. “I won’t let you.”
The man laughed incredulously. “You are the one in chains, wolf. While my race is hurtling towards unlimited power. Tell me, what can you do?” His face twisted. “Your pack is destroyed. The city that you swore to protect is a chaotic mess. You are nothing. Nothing.”
Thad took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. The urge to transform into the wolf was almost overwhelming him.
Brother Damon circled him, his black eyes opaque. “Yes, you are my second gift for tonight,” he drawled. “Shall I tell you about my first? My very special gift who will take pride of place in the ceremony?”
Thad’s fists curled. Don’t, he thought. Don’t attack him. But he knew what was coming.
Brother Damon smiled. “She is very beautiful,” he whispered. “So beautiful that even without the fortuitous timing I would have known she was the one. The Majesty. I must thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for bringing her to me.” His smile widened. “She is obviously a friend of yours. Or were you hoping for something more?”
“Don’t speak of her,” Thad growled. “I’m warning you.”
Brother Damon laughed again. “Or what, wolf? What can you do?” He walked up to Thad slowly. He was so close that he could feel the demon’s breath whistling past him. “I am so looking forward to having her, wolf. My blood is aching for it. And when I do, a small part of me will be thinking of you, and how you yearn to be me in that moment.”
Thad’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t get to lay a hand on her, demon,” he hissed. “I promise you that.”
Brother Damon sighed. “Such bluster,” he said. “I almost admire it. You should go out thinking you can do something, I guess. You certainly shouldn’t focus on how useless you are. Or on how you let your fellow shifters die, and let your pack be destroyed. And how you brought the woman you desire to me.” He smiled slowly, his black eyes suddenly gleaming. “I am going to take her, again and again. And she is going to bear my children until she is so old and grey she can’t possibly carry another.”
Thad suddenly lurched out towards the demon, swinging wildly. Brother Damon laughed, taking one step back. The guards swooped, dragging him away.
“I’ll kill you!” Thad screamed, his eyes wild. “And I’m going to enjoy it, demon.”
“Take him away,” said Brother Damon, in a bored voice. “Prepare him for the ceremony. Make sure that everything I have told you is followed down to the smallest detail.” He smiled. “Everything must be perfect.”
Thad was barely able to think coherently as they dragged him out of the room, kicking and screaming. The walls were red. His mind was red. Everything was a haze of red.
Only one small thought penetrated the rage.
That demon must die.
***
Keel
ey trembled as the silent women rubbed a strong, exotic-smelling oil into her skin, massaging it in circular motions into her flesh. This was taking longer than she had anticipated. Her eyes flickered towards the spot that she had left the knife, hidden in a safe spot. She had to make sure that she got to it and secured it when they weren’t looking.
She had been here for what seemed like hours, preparing for the ceremony. First, they had stripped her of her white dress and told her to step into a hot bath, which had almost scalded her skin. The two women who attended her had rubbed her so vigorously she felt like they had taken off a layer of skin.
It was during the bath, as she had gritted her teeth at their scrubbing, that she had first felt it. Something moving inside her, like a strong wind. And then an intense pain had stabbed her abdomen. She had gasped, sweat pouring down her face.
“What’s wrong?” It was one of the maids, her brow puckered.
“Pain,” she gasped again. “In my stomach.”
The women had exchanged looks. “It is coming,” said the other, underneath her breath. “You must prepare for more pain. The injection they gave you was a massive dose of hormones, forcing you to ovulate at this time.”
“But it will come and go,” said the other, matter-of-factly. “Stabbing, and then nothing. You must be brave through it.”
Keeley had puffed and panted through the pain, but the woman had been right. It left as quickly as it had come. And then they had dragged her out of the bath and started massaging her with oils.
The door opened, and Sister Valeria walked in, a gown draped over one arm. She stared critically at Keeley’s naked body, glistening with the oils.
“You are too pale,” she complained, her head to one side as she stared at her. “But there is nothing we can do about it at this late stage. It has all been so rushed.” She took a deep breath, holding up the gown. “Well? Is it not magnificent?”
Keeley stared at the gown. At another time, she might have agreed with Sister Valeria. The gown was indeed beautiful. It was white, and made from a very fine lace, which had the appearance of cobweb. It didn’t have a high neck like the gowns the Blessed Mothers wore. This had a plunging décolletage, and a high split on the left side.
Keeley’s blood ran cold. It was a dress made for seduction. A dress for enticing a man. She couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her just looking at it.
Sister Valeria didn’t wait for a response. She slipped the gown over Keeley’s head, pulling it down. The two attendants stepped back and stared at her. All three women gasped.
“You are so beautiful,” said one woman, reverently. She dropped to her knees. “You truly are the Majesty.”
The other woman sank to her knees as well. Only Sister Valeria remained standing, but she looked pleased.
“Now the final touch,” she said, walking to a corner of the room and picking up a headpiece. “And you will be ready.”
She placed a thin circlet of gold on Keeley’s head. The centre of it gleamed with the strange material that looked like crystal.
“There,” said Sister Valeria, with a note of satisfaction in her voice. “You are complete.”
The door suddenly opened. All the women turned towards it.
Keeley paled, and her trembling intensified. It was Brother Damon. His cold black eyes raked over her, and she could see the barely controlled lust brimming in his face.
“Brother Damon,” said Sister Valeria quickly. “This is highly irregular. You aren’t supposed to see her until the moment before the First Encounter.”
Brother Damon smiled slowly. “I think we will dispel with tradition tonight.” He clicked his fingers. “Leave us. I want to speak to my intended alone.”
Sister Valeria huffed a bit, but walked out, followed by the two attendants. Keeley’s heart started to hammer as the door closed firmly behind them. What was he going to do to her?
Her eyes flickered towards the spot where she had hidden the knife. No, she couldn’t get there in time. He would intercede before she took a single step.
She turned her eyes back to him, watching carefully. If he made a single move to touch her, she would bolt for the knife. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, and she could barely conceal her hatred as she stared at him.
He gazed on her, a smile spreading across his face like melted butter. His face with skin that looked like plastic. He had come here to gloat, she thought suddenly. To crow to her about what was about to happen. Or what he thought was about to happen, she thought darkly.
“You look beautiful, my dear.” His voice was like silk. “Exquisite, in fact. You will forgive me for wanting to gaze on you before our union?”
She took a deep breath, staring him straight in the eye. “As you wish.” The effort of being civil and compliant towards him was killing her, but she knew that she needed to keep him onside. He needed to believe that she was harmless and agreeable until the moment.
He walked up to her slowly, his eyes slowly trawling over her, from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. The gaze was brazen, almost slapping her in the face. The insolent gaze of a man who believed that he owned what he beheld.
“You are indeed the one.” His voice was a whisper. “The one who has been foretold. Do not worry. I will take care of you. Even more so after you have conceived the child tonight. Your children will be great, I promise you.”
She gulped painfully, trying not to take a step back. He was so close she could feel his cold breath on her face. And then he reached out a hand and trailed it down her arm slowly. As soon as his skin touched hers she heard his sharp intake of breath, and his black eyes darkened considerably. It took all her effort not to spit in his face.
Fear gripped her heart like a vice. She started trembling. Would she have the courage to do what she must?
His face twisted with lust as he discerned her tremble. He believed that she was responding to him, she thought. Either that or fear turned him on. Her eyes widened in alarm as he stepped even closer, so that his body was almost touching hers.
“Such a pity,” he rasped. “I want to have you now, but I know that it is hardly the time. And your body will not be ready for the child yet, anyway.” He sighed, stepping away from her quickly. “Until tonight, my dear.”
She almost sagged with relief when he turned and walked towards the door. He grasped the handle, then gazed back at her. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention that you will be seeing a friend of yours at the ceremony. He will be playing a starring role, the same as you, but not in quite the same way.” He chuckled. “It will be bon voyage for him, I fear.”
He left. Keeley stared at the door, her heart pounding harder. It was Thad. That was the only person he could be referring to. She almost swooned with relief. He was alive!
But as soon as the relief hit her, it was quickly followed by fear. What was the madman planning? He was enjoying this, she thought. It was like a game for him. He enjoyed watching the fear and horror. Thad had been right about everything, she thought. These creatures were evil to the core.
She took a deep breath. Demons. He had told her they were demons. And she understood now. They were demons from the pits of hell. And they must die, before they grasped their ultimate power.
She walked swiftly over to where she had hidden the knife. With a trembling hand, she grabbed it, securing it quickly. It was going to be harder to conceal in this dress than the other. But she could do it. She had no choice.
Rage coursed through her veins. He wasn’t going to hurt Thad, either. She would die before he did.
***
The roar of the crowd was deafening as she was lead into the outdoor stadium. She gazed around her in wonder. If she hadn’t known what they were planning here tonight, she would have been impressed. They had spared no effort to make it look as spectacular as possible.
In the centre of the stadium an enormous geometric sculpture had been created, made from the same compound that the building was. Cyanmar. It glitter
ed so brilliantly in the fading rays of the sun that she blinked sharply, unable to gaze on it for more than a second. The sculpture was obviously integral to what was about to happen.
A rope of cyanmar stones had been placed around the perimeter of the stadium as well, in what looked like strategic positions. She craned her neck, staring at the sky. No stars yet. The sun was still slowly setting.
She was lead to a box near the central stage. Sister Valeria and Sister Katya were standing primly, dressed in new outfits, flanking the Blessed Mothers, who were also wearing fancier versions of their regular white gowns. Only Abbey glanced at her as she was told where to stand, slightly in front of them.
Her eyes scanned the crowd anxiously. There was no sign of Brother Damon yet. Or Thad.
Suddenly, a drumroll sounded. The crowd hushed. It was a strange, rhythmic beating. She almost had to resist her body swaying to it. She felt her heart start to thud in unison with the drum.
One heartbeat. And then two. The drum was invading her blood.
Pain suddenly gripped her, and it took all her effort not to double over in agony. She could feel a cold sweat break out on her neck. She fingered the knife beneath her sleeve desperately as if it were a talisman, keeping her safe.
Chapter Twenty
Coyote River
Claire Walters glanced anxiously at her husband sitting in front of the television. The sound of gunfire from the western playing on the screen filled the room. He was getting agitated. Rocking more swiftly. The momentum was almost pulling him from his armchair.
She walked up to him, bending down and taking his hand. “Gil. What is it?”
Her blood ran cold as she watched his eyes start to roll back in his head. The rocking was getting more frantic. To her horror, flecks of spittle were flying from his mouth.
“Gil!” His hand flew out of hers. “Gil! You must stay calm.”
But he was anything but calm. Suddenly, his body twisted, and he slid out of the armchair onto the floor, bucking frantically.
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