“Thank you for coming! You paid a high price for entry, and the Beast Master does not disappoint!” Boris grinned at the crowd, standing in front of his chair to grip the bannister overlooking the ring. Two hulking gorillas flanked him and Van, and a young woman – possibly even a teenager – sat behind him, looking distracted. His daughter. Her face was a scarred mess, and her body also looked to be physically mangled. Not a cripple, but a survivor, for sure.
I frowned at that. The BM hadn’t mentioned her injuries.
Apparently, he hadn’t always had such control over his beasts.
My mind raced with possibilities, wondering if this was information that could help in the upcoming battle, but I was interrupted before I got anywhere.
“Next up is a truly… unique specimen. One I’ve wanted to acquire for ages. Thanks to a favor owed to me by an ex-Justice,” he winked as the crowd hooted in derisive laughter, “we have some fresh meat to initiate…” I growled at his mockery of Rufus’ plight. And his knowledge of Rufus in the first place. Boris held out his hands, and the pallet doors to the pit opened again, this time revealing two women. One was a girl, a teenager at most. Her eyes darted about wildly, panicked for a few seconds at the loud cheers and shouts. Then she flinched, shoulders locking rigid. Her face went slack, and a look of calm took over. I almost growled out loud. The Beast Master controlling her fear.
But Tory did gasp out loud.
I turned to her quickly, only to find her staring at the next fighters. I turned back, and truly saw the other fighter for the first time. And my brain temporarily shut down.
“Misha…” Tory whispered, voice stunned and haunted.
“That… isn’t possible,” I whispered. But it was. Tory’s old flame – no pun intended – stood beside the small child. A full-grown woman with red hair, and red eyes. The mother to the Reds. A fiery red weredragon. I remembered that a red dragon had been abducted, but I had thought it to be another kid. No wonder Raego had known nothing about it. Because we had all seen Misha die in the Grimm War. But I stared at her now. Impossibly alive. And…
She.
Looked.
Pissed.
I latched onto Tory’s arm as she placed a hand on the bannister overlooking the ring. “It’s not her, Tory,” I hissed under my breath. “It can’t be her. This is a trick. No doubt meant for us.”
Then Misha-not-Misha let out a very familiar laugh, and Tory’s spine locked rigid. It was uncannily accurate. But that just wasn’t possible. We had all seen her die while fighting the Grimms. Had we been mistaken? Had she survived? Dragons did have remarkable healing abilities… No way. I looked up to see the Beast Master staring directly at me. He let out a nod and a triumphant grin. As if to say, your move.
I shivered, but couldn’t do anything. Not yet. It was too soon. We didn’t have what we had come for. We couldn’t fight his enforcers, his pets, the crowd, and find the victims at the same time.
The two contestants strode to the center of the ring, encouraged by the hulking gorillas. They stood facing each other, no longer concerned with the crowd. The gorillas stepped away, and Misha let out another laugh. “A child! This will be fun. Roasted children taste so delicious. Extra crispy. My favorite.” Tory was shaking, whether in horror at her words, or at the realization that it just might actually be Misha.
The child smiled back, and then exploded from her clothes, and I gasped.
Camilla.
The chimera.
Misha exploded into her own dragon form, crouched low, and then breathed a lick of fire at the chimera. Tory let out a shout, but it was drowned in the roar of the Beast Master.
“A dragon and a chimera. This ought to be fun.” And he shot me a wink as the crowd went wild.
Chapter 53
Camilla, now a horrifying monster, let loose a blast of venom at Misha, who deftly avoided it with a duck of her scaled head. The chimera roared in frustration from her lion-headed chest, the tail hissed, and her goat head bleated.
Simultaneously.
I shivered.
I physically restrained Tory from interfering, squeezing her arm hard enough to bruise. We couldn’t do anything yet. We needed the chimera back in Rufus’ hands, and that meant that the fight must go on. But at least we now knew where she was. And that she was safe.
If she survived. Against our pal, the resurrected weredragon.
But my heart was pounding as the two monsters flew at each other, because I found a fatal flaw in my plan. We effectively now had opposing goals, Tory and I. I needed Camilla saved. She wanted her lover saved. Which was probably exactly what Boris wanted. To keep me distracted. All he really had to do was throw my friends against each other, and watch my torment, knowing I couldn’t do two things at once. Couldn’t challenge him and save my friends.
I glanced back to see Mallory staring at me with wide eyes at the change in situation. Or maybe it was because Misha was alive. Didn’t matter which, really. I dipped my head at Tory, grimacing, and he nodded, slicing through the crowd to get to us. No one seemed to notice or take offense, much too engaged in the fight down below. Mallory stepped up, and wrapped his arms around Tory as if in an affectionate embrace.
But it wasn’t affection.
It was restraint.
I let go of her, hands shaking from exhaustion.
In case anyone had forgotten, Tory was strong.
But so was Mallory.
Not as strong, but stronger than me, and I hoped strong enough to keep her restrained. Still, seeing the love of your life suddenly back from the dead, suddenly in harm’s way from the child we had to save in order for any of us to walk out of here alive…
Let’s just say it was a test in resolve.
And I didn’t think it was going to end well.
The red dragon was throwing up a good fight, but it was essentially like she was fighting three opponents. The chimera would switch from a charging horned goat on all fours, to a bipedal fire-breathing lion, to a striking cobra, and the child was fast. Sometimes managing to successfully attack with all three forms in rapid succession.
I suddenly saw for the first time why these things had been eradicated.
And this was an untrained child.
Which possibly made her more dangerous. She showed no restraint, a wild, reckless abandon, and Misha wasn’t faring well. The goat head slammed into her, goring her stomach with its horns, causing her to momentarily shift back to her human form as she rolled to safety, now a much smaller target. She clutched her stomach, scooted clear, and then shifted back into dragon form, a powerful sweep of her wings launching her a dozen feet away.
Blood flowed freely from her scaled abdomen, and she wobbled as she landed.
Dragon scales were tough, but the chimera had torn through them like crepe paper.
The chimera rounded on her with a triumphant roar, and the Beast Master held up a hand. For a moment, the chimera didn’t seem to notice, and then her shoulders locked rigid and she stopped. The Beast Master called out. “I don’t want to lose any of my new pets…” he winked at the crowd. “Yet. Looks like the infamous chimera is truly as magnificent as they say. Perhaps we will bring her out later, against more even odds.” The crowd had been roaring – at first in disappointment, and then renewed vigor at the thought of seeing an even better fight later. “Unless my ringmaster has anything different to say…”
Van Helsing.
He assessed the two fighters, and held a hand pointing at the chimera. The crowd screamed with renewed frenzy at the official winner, and I could see bookies suddenly overwhelmed with bets for an upcoming fight with the chimera. Several patrons simply watched Van with deep, thoughtful eyes. Syndicate members, or just people who had crossed paths with him once before?
I growled under my breath, cursing my choice to get Van Helsing involved in this.
Misha wobbled again, licking her stomach with her dragon tongue, and staring with pure hatred at the now adolescent girl. She was cradling on
e arm as if it was broken, but I couldn’t be sure. I had once seen Tory snap a dragon’s arm practically in half, only to see her entirely healed the next night. Misha – if it truly was Misha – would be fine. I let out a sigh of relief, thankful that dragons healed fast. I just hoped it was fast enough to be of assistance when we made our move. Because there was no question that we now had to save her, too.
But then Misha suddenly shot me a significant, desperate look, as if trying to tell me something. Then she glanced pointedly at Tory.
I stumbled back a step. What the hell? How had she known I was here, what with fighting for her life? And what had she been trying to tell me?
Tory hadn’t noticed, struggling and arguing with Mallory, and Misha’s look was over before I could second-guess it.
Misha was alive, and knew I was here.
Then another thought entered my brain.
Had she… thrown the fight, knowing I needed the chimera?
I had seen Misha fight before, and… now that I thought about it, I wasn’t entirely sure the fight should have gone the way it did. Misha was balls-to-the-wall crazy in a fight. She had even been Raego’s primary guard, and that wasn’t an occupation one got for seniority.
And my mind began to fumble around with new thoughts, considering, as the fighters were escorted from the ring. “Two minutes to place bets on the next fight. An all-out fight to the death this time, with teams…”
And I suddenly couldn’t hear a thing as Mallory shot me a desperate look, mouth opening and closing as he shouted something at me.
His arms were empty.
And Tory was gone.
Chapter 54
Mallory and I met. I grasped his shoulders as he shouted at me. I almost didn’t hear him over the screams of the crowd. “She’s gone!”
“Where is she?” I hissed. “You were supposed to keep her occupied!”
He looked embarrassed, and very, very angry. “I damn well know that, Laddie. She’s fecking strong! And a wee bit emotional at the moment!” he snapped, face a thunderhead.
I nodded, gritting my teeth.
I spotted the Huntress in the crowd, cloaked in shadow.
But she was staring at me with a desperate look on her face, clutching a phone to her ear. She must have found Ichabod. But I didn’t have time to go beat down my ancestor. Not Yet. I needed to find Tory. I shot her a look, silently telling her to keep her eyes on Ichabod. She shook her head urgently, fighting to move through the crowd, closer to me. I shook my head adamantly, and turned my back on her.
Mallory and I began mingling through the crowd, searching for Tory. But it was no use. There were too many people, and they were all milling about like it was a High School party and the parents had left town. All too soon, we heard Van Helsing’s voice pierce through the din, casting the tent into an eerie silence. And we had seen no sign of Tory yet.
“Say hello to our new contestants! They may be a little shy, but not for long…” he added darkly, and I thought I imagined a slight undertone of guilt, as if apologizing to me for the display, and asking me for a sign so that he knew when to end the charade. But I didn’t know if there would be a sign. Not if Gunnar and Rufus couldn’t get to Camilla in time.
And I wouldn’t even blame him if Van threw in with the BM if things seemed to be going his way. After all, I would no longer be a threat, and he did want to live, even if under the rule of a psychopath. At least he would live. I craned my neck to see the ring, and groaned.
Alucard, skin seeming to glow, as he turned his back on his competitors, waving at the crowd.
Ashley, eyes on fire, challenging everyone.
And then I gasped.
Sonya stood on battered legs, looking shaken and terrified as she stared at Alucard’s back.
“What the fuck?” I roared, panting in horror. How? How the hell had they gotten to Sonya?
Then it hit me. Alucard. She went to save Alucard. The next best thing to her father. She had argued in his defense, but none of us had seemed to back her up. And her sister had been hurt. And she was a rebel. So, she must have decided to save him herself. To save her family. To escape Raego’s supervision.
Goddamn it.
I saw the Huntress – closer now – staring into the ring, face frozen in horror. Then she began frantically looking for someone. Tory. Of course. She would want to be there to support Tory. But she looked to be torn between saving the woman she had a crush on, and saving that woman’s daughter. Consequences be damned.
Mallory groaned. “This is a right clusterfuck, Laddie.”
I could only nod as Van chimed back in. “Now, rules are simple. Last man… well, last beast standing.” He held up his hands dramatically, eyes discreetly scanning the crowd as if looking for me, and masking it as building anticipation. With a breath, he dropped his hands. “FIGHT!”
A woman screamed.
And a dozen monsters in the crowd suddenly collapsed in a ring of unconscious bodies.
Tory stood in the center of them.
Then she was moving, casually striding towards the ring, walking like a puppet on a string. And dozens around her collapsed to the ground as she approached. Those lucky enough to remain conscious within her proximity simply stared up at her adoringly.
Mallory suddenly had twin lightning spears in each hand, revealing them for all to see, having been invisible up until now. They sizzled, causing shouts of outrage and confusion as the crowd around us jumped back. I clenched my fists.
Well, shit.
Chapter 55
The beasts in the ring flew at each other while Tory climbed the bannister and dropped into the pit. Mallory shot me one pained look, and then tore after her, stumbling from both the slightly distorted view through the stupid glasses and the sudden interest from the crowd at seeing two fellow fans jump into the ring. I shoved clear a path, hand on the hilt of my sword cane, knowing it was now next to useless as a magical totem, but hopefully as a physical weapon it would be useful against fang and claw.
The fangs and claws of my friends as they tried to kill me for trying to save them.
Because they were under control by Boris the Beast Master.
What a stupid fucking name, I growled to myself as I reached the bannister around the pit.
My spectacles almost fell off as I swung myself over the ledge, using the bannister to carefully drop into the pit since I didn’t want to waste the last of my Maker’s power to break my twelve-foot fall. I didn’t want to enter the fight physically and magically crippled.
Talk about a dead Maker.
I landed on the rough, rock floor, and scanned the area leading to the cages, hoping to see Gunnar riding a pony as he led Camilla to safety. Of course, this wasn’t the case. I saw only hungry faces staring back at me, faces suddenly starving to see not only death from the contestants, but also the three idiots stupid enough to enter the pit uninvited.
With no knight in shining armor to announce Camilla’s safety, and one – or all – of my friends about to die, I gripped my cane in a sweaty fist, and tapped into that last shallow pool of my Maker’s power, ready to burn it to ashes in one final – hopefully fruitful – act.
So that my wizard’s power could come roaring in, and hopefully be enough to save the day.
But my Beast had other plans, having meekly waited in his Prison long enough.
The moment I touched my Maker’s power, my Beast ripped it away from me.
And I nearly collapsed from a sharp, spiking pain in my chest.
And my cane began to glow in my fist as my Beast used his centuries of knowledge to fight back. Resist suicide. To fight for his life.
No…
I fell to my knees as he bulged against the weakened Prison walls, hammering my mind with fists of molten lava. They weren’t strong, but I was helpless. He had wrestled control of the Maker’s power from me, and I still couldn’t tap into my wizard’s gift – although I felt it deep inside me, pulsing with a warm, healthy glow. Like an Oasi
s just out of reach in a desert of despair.
There just simply wasn’t enough room in my limited head space to simultaneously access both powers. Both Beasts.
I lasted only moments before gasping, palms crashing to the rock floor, the cane flashing ice cold before it tumbled free from my grasp. The Prison crumbled away to pulverized dust, and thanks to my spectacles, I saw this clearly – even though no one else could. Screams tore at my ears as my friends continued trying to kill each other. I barely managed to raise my head, and found an apparition standing before me.
The Dark Presence. My Beast.
He looked not that different from me, although ragged, beaten down, and malnourished from his sojourn in my Prison. My eyes latched onto the cane handle lying a few feet away from my palm. Amazingly, it hadn’t been destroyed upon his escape.
This thing wanted payback, revenge, and freedom. At any cost. He knew my plan. Knew me. Knew I had been willing to sacrifice his existence to go back to being a wizard. And this displeased him.
Greatly.
He glared down at me, smoky eyes seeming to burn with black fire, and he snarled. A lightning spear suddenly sailed through his chest and he gasped in shock.
I blinked in surprise, seeing Mallory off to my right, hefting his other spear to a shoulder. I turned back to my Beast, wondering how the spear had harmed him, if even a little.
And how the hell had Mallory seen the apparition?
Wasn’t he just in my mind?
Then it hit me.
My Beast, my Dark Presence was physically here, having broken free from my Prison, and with me no longer controlling my Maker’s power, he was quite literally… a free spirit.
“Want to make a deal?” I whispered weakly. His frown deepened, seeming to be only annoyed at the spear-wound now. I threw up a hand as Mallory prepared to launch his other projectile. “The way I see it, we’re both about to die unless we team up.” He continued to watch me with those ageless eyes. “You’re weakened, injured, and still only a spirit. One more spear and you’re fairy dust.”
Beast Master: A Novel in The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 5) Page 29