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In the Arms of the Beast

Page 27

by K. A. Merikan


  Beast hugged Laurent, hurriedly kissing along the angular jaw line while the world slowly fell back into place. “And I love that you see the real me. More than anyone,” he whispered, finally reaching Laurent’s sweet, soft lips. Now that he’d gotten to know it, he couldn’t imagine ever living without his husband’s flavor.

  Laurent smiled, his gaze soft and hazy beneath long, dark eyelashes. “Always.”

  Beast breathed in his scent and, unable to pull away just yet, hugged Laurent more firmly. “We need wet wipes, or there will really be no hiding what did during this detour.”

  Laurent looked down between their bodies and gasped. “Oh no.”

  *

  If Beast didn’t periodically remind himself why the club put so much time and effort into organizing this event in the record time of two weeks, he might have forgotten Baal’s trees even existed. Shadow had draped colorful bunting over the claw-like branches earlier, and between games and nice food, Beast was positive most of their guests didn’t even see how unusual the tree was.

  The kids’ obstacle course was a hit. Fox and Nick did most of the work on it, reusing old garden playground slides, tires, a small bouncy castle, and some of the play items Beast and Laurent had brought back from the clubhouse. The children were happy with their tiny prizes, and the parents eager to donate to a local homelessness charity in order to let their offspring have another go at the never-ending contest that produced only winners.

  The Sweet Break also decided to participate in the event, serving beverages and healthy snacks out of a van. Beast was so proud to see Laurent hovering around all the food trucks with a clipboard as if he were some big celebrity's PA. All he needed to look the part was a headset to bark orders at his minions.

  Beast had been in the middle of unloading barrels of fruit-infused water close to the van containing fireworks meant for the evening when he spotted his husband at work. It hit him unexpectedly how good of a parent Laurent would be. Sure, he was a bit bossy at times, but age would surely temper the judgmental side of his nature. But many of Laurent’s qualities—his conscientiousness, and willingness to learn—would be invaluable in rearing a child. Laurent might have been brought up in a different, harsher time, and the methods used back then were often unacceptable to anyone in the twenty-first century, but he would surely soak up all there was to know like a sponge and make their home run like clockwork. Beast could already see Laurent with daily lists of what needed to be done at each hour.

  It would be better for everyone if he didn’t get too obsessive about doing things ‘right’, but taking care of his husband’s mental state was Beast’s job, and he intended to do it well.

  He briefly sat in a plastic chair, watching a teenage couple kiss at the top of the tiny Ferris wheel the Kings had rented for the occasion. The pop music playing from the speakers had no lyrics and provided a pleasant background for what evolved into a large picnic in the sun. Many of their guests brought chairs and blankets, creating circles of family and friends all around the organized carnival, and moved between their own gatherings and the stalls to enjoy games and activities. It was the kind of party Beast rarely attended—without alcohol, nakedness, and bodily fluids staining even surfaces one wouldn’t normally expect them to—but as alien as the atmosphere was to Beast, for once he felt strangely in tune with the community he was so often separated from.

  As much as he detested it, people stealing glances at him was normal. He was a massive man, a biker, he had burns and tattoos all over his body. People would stare, and he was fine with it as long as they remained civil.

  He wondered what it would be like to attend a local festival like this one with a small kid of his own, see faces of strangers brighten with relief. He would no longer be the menacing man who lived outside of the law but a father. With a child at his side, he wouldn’t seem as much of a threat.

  For now though, Marcel was safe in the backseat of Beast’s car. Laurent had insisted they left the windows slightly open because he’d read about pets dying of heat inside locked vehicles. Beast wouldn’t have thought about that himself, but his husband had a point. None of them wanted their future kid to boil and periodically checked the internal temperature of the vehicle.

  A loud sigh made Beast turn to Magpie, who looked beyond pitiful in his expensive shoes and hand-embroidered kaftan by some big brand Beast didn’t know. “What is it?”

  Magpie leaned against Malachite, who handed him a cloth kerchief, which Magpie used to dry his damp forehead. “You might want to know this stunt of yours is working. I feel so sick.”

  Beast’s mouth twitched, but he wasn’t happy about Magpie’s misery, so he stopped himself from smiling. “You sure it wasn’t one of Elliot’s sandwiches? Maybe you should go home and rest? We’ll be fine here.”

  Magpie glanced to the shabby little stand where Elliot proudly created his weird concoctions. “No, I didn’t dare touch those. I suppose you’re right, I will see you later. Be sure to stop by with Marcel once all this dreadfulness is over.”

  Once Magpie was off, Beast turned his attention back to the sandwich stand. Curiosity got the best of Beast when he saw Laurent discussing something with Elliot, and he moved closer to eavesdrop, wary of not being spotted.

  “You cannot serve these at this event!” Laurent said, raising his voice out of nowhere.

  Elliot shrugged, still working the bread over with some tar-like substance. “Why not?”

  “We are promoting healthy eating. Temperance. Not… whatever this is.”

  “This is a chocolate spread with squid ink. It’s 85% cacao. Very healthy.”

  Laurent threw his arms into the air. “Surely not. Especially if you put peanut butter all over it! This sandwich is the very definition of excess.”

  Elliot frowned. “I have the variety without palm oil!”

  It was intervention time. Beast grabbed Laurent from the back and kissed the side of his head through the lush brown locks. “Just let him have his fun. Aren’t you happy he wants to be involved?” he whispered, watching Knight grab a sandwich in passing, much to Elliot’s delight. It was cute how much Elliot wanted to be of use to his man. He’d come a long way from the shitty attitude he’d first moved into the clubhouse with.

  Laurent looked to his clipboard with a groan. “Fine. But this is it. Don’t make any more. And don’t give them to children.”

  Elliot snorted and briefly put the side of his hand against his temple. “Aye, aye, captain.”

  Beast stifled a laugh but stilled when he spotted a few dark particles surfing the breeze behind Elliot’s back. His heart briefly stopped, but he grabbed Laurent’s hand and led him toward the tree.

  “It’s dropping leaves,” he whispered, walking past a barrier of apple crates until the sulphuric aroma became obvious in the air. The black bark, shiny like reptile scales, looked as solid as ever, but the flowers? Was it just him getting his hopes up, or were they wilting?

  Laurent was completely still for a while, but then grasped Beast’s hand, his tense expression smoothing out into a glowing smile. “It’s working. It looks like it really is, Beast.”

  Relief was unwinding knots in Beast’s body, even those he hadn’t been aware of. Logic told him he shouldn’t feel victorious as long as Baal lived within the walls of his home, but this was progress. This was a battle won, even if the war was to last much longer.

  “You were right,” Beast whispered, even though he’d agreed to do what Laurent wanted only because they were momentarily out of other options.

  “I know it’s only a half-measure, but until we come up with a permanent solution, this could keep us going,” Laurent said, watching the flowers that had earlier bloomed lose their petals.

  Beast smirked. His gaze briefly wandered to take in all the happy people. Couples. Families. Friends. Now his life was also complete. For once, he had it all.

  An odd sound took him right back to reality, and he looked past the tree, at the van where they’d stored
all the fireworks. It was like the tapping of heavy rain against metal, but his heart rose into his throat when white fumes filled the cab, lit by sparks. He pushed Laurent back, stiffening like a wall between his husband and danger when the van blew out the smoke through the tiniest gaps around doors and windows. The white, thick cloud soon rose into the air like a distress beacon, and the sparks erupted both inside and out of the vehicle.

  The music died, replaced by cries of terror that turned into screaming when the van shot into the air, landed on its hood, only to roll to its side, overcome by a paroxysm of explosions and flames.

  Laurent held on to Beast’s arm. “Is that a bomb?”

  Beast remembered the explosion a few months back all too well, and just like that time, the pleasant hustle and bustle of laughter and conversation, devolved into screams.

  “No, no just fireworks,” he uttered, scowling when visitors left the stands and games behind. He looked back at Rev, who approached him with hands clasped at the back of his head.

  “Holy shit.”

  The festive gathering turned into a chaotic mess. Parents picked up their children and ran, and while Beast’s first instinct was to stop them, to say it had only been an accident and the party could proceed like normal, the potential for injuries was too great. Teenagers were already taking out their smartphones to record the fuckup, and the sudden migration of their guests toward the vehicle that still had explosives sparking inside made him act fast.

  “Guide everyone away. The party’s over,” he said sharply, before whistling to get Vars and Jake’s attention.

  The picnic could have lasted longer, generated more charitable donations and more positive energy to combat Baal’s power, but he couldn’t afford to have anyone accidentally injured if he wanted to repeat this kind of event.

  Vars grabbed a microphone to inform everyone the party was over while Rev and Jake ushered stubborn guests toward the cars parked along the road just beyond the hill. On the other side of the picnic site, Joker wheeled a mobile extinguisher to the smoking van. Bare-chested, he had his T-shirt wrapped around the lower part of his face for protection but didn’t hesitate to approach the cab, which still had sparks flying inside.

  Beast rubbed his face and met Laurent’s gaze. “Tell the businesses to wrap it up.”

  Laurent’s determined expression calmed Beast with the ease his kisses could. As soon as he was off, heading to Sweet Break’s van first, Beast stepped over the apple crates and glanced at the deserted obstacle course. At the south end of the picnic site, Shadow was helping the last of the passengers off the Ferris wheel, and people waited for those stuck on the attraction, but the party was pretty much done.

  Obligation was like a collar around Beast’s neck. He knew he needed to do his part, but his tongue was so dry he headed to a stand with healthy lemonade first.

  It was tasty. But only he knew how much he’d have given for a nice cold beer instead. The watermelon and mint-infused beverage trailed down his throat, but his moment of peace came to a crashing end when Gray gave a warning cry.

  “Fire!”

  It was then that heat tickled Beast’s neck. His hand rapidly tightened, crushing the cardboard cup and sprayed the cool liquid over Beast’s hand and T-shirt.

  Flames rapidly spread over the stall with granola bars just a couple of paces away. His stomach sank, but as he stepped back to search for another extinguisher, his eyes stopped at the burning canopy above the music console.

  The expensive equipment normally used during big club parties was under threat, and there was no time to evaluate how the flames could have spread so fast from one place to another, even though the answer couldn’t have been more obvious. Salvaging had to come first, finding the Trojan horse second, so Beast called his men for help and grabbed the first piece of the sound system in sight.

  The huge speaker weighed Beast down but was too expensive to risk leaving near all this craziness, even if Knight was already spraying the canopy with the extinguisher. But while minimizing losses was top priority, the viper of suspicion was already sending poison all over Beast’s body. It mingled with the ache in his arms and the discomfort in his mouth, but his focus remained on dragging the music equipment to safety inch by inch.

  He briefly looked around to see no remaining civilians, as at this point even the mobile businesses were evacuated, but the pale fumes exuded by the spreading fire turned the scene into a labyrinth where each man had to navigate between fallen items and equipment. The smoke burned Beast’s eyes, but he still searched for the familiar figure of his husband.

  Laurent was taking away money boxes into their car with Jake at his side, so Beast ran back into the thick cloud, searching the map in his mind in order to locate the other speaker while visibility was so poor.

  But the black limbs of the demonic tree remained a prominent presence despite the fog-like smoke, casting shadows where there should’ve been none and looming above the scene as if the threat of the ugly thing physically attacking was real.

  The Kings were the only ones left on the battlefield, and Beast bit down on his lips until they bled when he realized the demonic plant had stopped shedding its petals.

  A fresh burst of fire was followed by a female scream, and despite a second of hesitation, Beast put down the speaker and rushed toward his greatest nightmare. His whole being wanted to stay away from the heat, but he couldn’t leave someone else to such a horrible fate either.

  Joker stepped out of the smoke like a ghost. Under his arm was a mop of hair, and when the woman shook violently, uttering a hysterical sob, Beast felt relief when he recognized the voice as the one he’d followed. But something wasn’t right. Beast had to blink away the smoke to recognize the woman as Lana, Knight’s sister, but he immediately went tense when she attempted to pull away, and Joker yanked her back by the hair.

  Before Beast could have intervened, Joker released a loud cough and spoke, lowering the T-shirt he’d tied around his face to use as a mask. “We’ve got our rat!” he yelled and shook Lana so hard, she curled her shoulders, barely keeping herself up.

  Beast’s brain refused to acknowledge what he’d just heard. He wanted to think it was one of Joker’s dumb pranks gone too far. But Joker’s face held no hint of a smile, and the tears running down Lana’s cheeks weren’t those of anger. She wasn’t defending herself like an innocent would, nor was she screaming for her brother’s help, and the dark streaks on her face could have been left by mascara, but also soot.

  “What the fuck is going on here? Let her go,” Knight snarled, emerging from the dusty cloud like a hero appearing in the very last moment to save a lady’s life. Ash dusted his long hair, and the whitish smoke contrasted with the dirt on his cheekbones and forehead.

  Joker pushed Lana to the grass, his whole body tense. “I saw her set one of the stands of fire! What is wrong with you? That’s how you repay our hospitality?”

  Knight swallowed, and Beast flinched when he saw his friend’s hands ball into fists. “What did you do?” he said in a low, oddly quiet voice.

  Lana got to her knees and looked up at Beast with tears rolling down her face in huge drops that gathered the dark dirt, creating streaks. “I had to! You won’t believe me, but it’s all for my little boy! I wanted a better life for him. I didn’t want him to make the same mistakes and trust his heart to the wrong people. I swore on my life I would stop you from destroying the trees. I know it’s unbelievable, but the devil himself came to see me. I’ve got the mark to prove it!” She pulled down the collar of her top and showed Baal’s sigil burned into her solar plexus. “I didn’t know you would be so adamant about these trees. Please, leave them where they are, I beg you!”

  Beast’s thoughts were a jumble of fury and regret. He should have never agreed to Lana coming here in the first place. They couldn’t have warned her of Baal, and they couldn’t have prevented him from reaching out to her either. She was vulnerable, a lonely mother without a job and with the baggage of a di
fficult life. Knight should have rented out a room for her in town. A regular hangaround could be sacrificed—even if regretfully—but family? What were they to do now?

  Lana’s tearful eyes met Beast’s, pleading for mercy, but it wasn’t coming. Lana’s head shook, its back exploding with blood and bone, and then her neck exploded like a fountain, staining Beast’s jeans. Her passionate gaze turned to glass, and the overpowering smell of gunpowder shot up Beast’s nose, accompanying the two shots from Joker’s Glock. Beast stumbled back, sobering up from the stupor of dread.

  Lana fell forward, hair scattering over Beast’s boot while he stared at the blood gushing out of the hole at the back of her head and pooling around his feet.

  “What the fuck?” he uttered, too stiff to kneel and see if she was still alive. He knew she wasn’t. Nobody could have survived such massive blood loss.

  Joker holstered his firearm with a snarl made gruesome by the red of Lana’s blood, which had sprayed over his face and naked chest. “You said to shoot the rat! She said it was her!”

  Knight went down, rolling his sister over without a word. His breath came out so loudly it muted any other noise, but there was nothing they could do when the open wound on Lana’s neck seeped fluid as if someone were squeezing her dry. The blood stuck strands of hair to Lana’s face, but her eyes were still wide open and staring into the sky.

  She was dead.

  “She was our friend! Our family!” Laurent’s voice cut through the silence, booming as if it came from a man much bigger.

  Beast’s teeth clenched, and he sucked in a laborious breath that smelled of burning flesh. He wanted to shelter Laurent from this, but it was too late. “She wasn’t running. She was right here. It wasn’t your call to make!”

  Joker shook his head and wiped his face with his forearm, turning the tiny red droplets into streaks. “You heard it yourself! She promised on her life. It would have been her or us, anyway!”

 

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