Beast of All

by J. C. McKenzie

  More snorting. “Hell of a way to come looking.”

  “Not exactly my plan.” Fucking fairy tits, I’d barely had time to relax and enjoy life after the Demon fiasco before…before everything was taken from me. Finding Veronika had been on my “To Do” list, but saving my Witch neighbours from the Elders had been my top priority at the time. If only I’d known.

  Tristan.

  A sob lodged in my throat, and I swallowed it down. I couldn’t save Tristan. Not now. Not ever. But I could save myself and still help my friends.

  Ben, Matt, Patty, and heck, even Christopher, though he was still a douche.

  An image of kind, soft brown eyes framed with shaggy dark blond hair flashed through my mind. Ben. Neighbour, Witch, and one of my best friends. His brethren had messed up a Demon summoning, which ended in catastrophe. The Witch Elders had ordered the entire den to appear and answer for their mistake. I promised Ben I’d rescue him if the Elders didn’t release them, or the punishment went on too long. I promised.

  Was it too late to help him, too?

  I gripped my white shirt and my fingers dug in, twisting the cheap cloth.

  “Sugar,” Veronika interrupted my thoughts. “You need a new plan. There’s no way you’re breaking out of these bars.”

  Not chemically declawed, I wasn’t. My skin itched as memories of shifting flittered through my mind. She had a point.

  “They gave me something,” I croaked. “I can’t feel my feras.”

  A sucked in breath. A pause. “Feras? As in plural?”

  Normally, Shifters only possessed one animal familiar, one that walked beside them instead of in their mind fondling their neurons. Being the Carus, I had special abilities.

  “You’re the supe Richard always goes on about.” Veronika moved in the cell beside me, her feet shuffling against the concrete floor while her clothes rustled.

  “Richard?”

  “Agent Richard Tucker.”

  “Ah, yes. We’re well acquainted, unfortunately.” ATF’s first name was Richard? Always knew he was a dick, but apparently his parents foreshadowed his future quite accurately at birth.

  A pause. More shuffling. She moved closer. “From your tone, I think we’re going to be good friends.”

  From her tone, she was right. The itching across my skin eased. “A useless friend. I can’t do anything. Have they done anything to you? What got you sent to the naughty corner?”

  A deep sigh. The scent of canned ham churned in the air. Despair. “They took away everything, save the one thing they use me for, and that won’t help us. It will only get us killed.”

  My brain pinged with a neurostorm of possibilities. “What is it?”

  “I’m a Demon portal.”

  The tiny hairs on my arms stood on end. “Scuzi?”

  “I can summon Demons without anchoring, calling for Hekate’s power, or the new moon. I just reach across the veil between realms and literally snatch any Demon I want and haul him or her here. Of course, without the ability to form a summoning circle or any witchcraft to protect myself, I’d be Demon pâté the moment they materialized.”

  My mind raced. Relief flowed through my veins as my brain rapidly made calculations. “I know how we can escape.”

  “How?” Veronika rasped.

  “You need to summon a Demon for me.”

  Chapter Three

  An enemy of my enemy

  “Remember that just because you hit rock bottom doesn’t mean you have to stay there.”

  ~Robert Downey Jr.

  In the distance, water dripped and Veronika’s heart thudded. Her breath came out in little puffs of air. All else remained silent.

  “Are you kidding me?” she finally whispered. Her tone, though light, cut sharply.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “The Demon will eviscerate me. Why on Earth would I welcome that?”

  “This Demon won’t.” This Demon better not.

  Before she could demand answers, footsteps echoed in the distance. Farther down than Veronika’s cell, a door clicked open. Feet shuffled. The door closed. I scurried back to my bed and sat down. Though it went against my nature to place myself at a lower, submissive position to whomever approached, my limbs had grown shaky and sitting appealed more than showing weakness.

  The air floating down the hallway announced our visitor. Boring as paper smothered with expensive cologne, his norm scent put my teeth on edge before he showed his smarmy face on the other side of the bars. Medium brown hair, Caucasian complexion, with average face, height, and weight. Even without any supernatural abilities, Tucker would’ve made an excellent agent, had he learned to apply himself. Instead, his perfect-for-blending appearance went to waste. His hazel eyes, the only striking part of his appearance, twinkled like a crazy crack addict as he looked me up and down from a safe distance on the other side of the bars.

  Veronika scampered away, remaining mute. Only her soft breath, noticeable because I listened for it, carried through the air in between the dripping water and Tucker clearing his throat.

  “Oh, hello.” I yawned. Be nice to stretch for added effect, but I’d probably face plant onto the floor. Stupid, untrustworthy muscles.

  Tucker’s lip curled up. “Carus.”

  “Please. Half of Vancouver already knows my secret. Don’t act so chuffed you finally figured it out.” Fifth graders could probably connect the dots sooner. Along with abandoning the life of an assassin, and opening myself to friendship and love, I’d lost my ability to keep my nature hidden. In other words, I’d grown soft. Former badass SRD assassin, now one giant, Carus softy. Ugh.

  “What I don’t understand is why Agent Booth withheld information from the agency.” He peered at me. “I never got the impression she liked you much. Yet she promoted you instead of booting you out of the agency, and she cleaned your file before she disappeared. Why?”

  A little smile tugged at my lips, and I let it show. Booth did like me. She was also an Egyptian goddess with better things to do with her time than babysit spoiled brats like Tucker. Once she got her husband out of the lab, she fled the SRD faster than a babysitter’s boyfriend when the parents’ car pulled up.

  Booth was smart. She got what she wanted and ran away.

  A sharp stab sliced through my chest. I should’ve taken off with Tristan. We should’ve gone on the vacation we always talked about. The one with the tropical beach, whiskey, and a bulk box of condoms. Now…

  The air wheezed out of my lungs, leaving them dry and empty.

  “Keep your secrets, then. What little you have left.” Tucker sneered, either ignorant or ambivalent to my collapsing heart.

  “What do you want?” My blunt, human nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists.

  Tucker leaned toward the bars. If I had full strength and energy, he’d be within striking distance. One lunge using supe-speed and my hands would wrap around the vulnerable soft tissue of his neck, finishing what I started months—eons—ago. I’d give his head a few good beats against the bars, too.

  Instead, I sat useless in a sweaty heap on the bed, with an upward angled shot of Tucker’s hairy, yet pruned, nostrils.

  “What do I want from you?” Tucker repeated my question. “Nothing that I didn’t already take.”

  My skin prickled with the implications. What did he take? Aside from blocking my abilities, what did he do to me? Take my blood? Clone me? Turn me into a mutant ninja to do his bidding as he commanded. Sweat broke out across the bridge of my nose.

  Too many Sci-Fi movies.

  Tucker leaned in, gaze gleaming.

  No way would I let this fucktard know how much his words freaked me out. “Then you’re here to gloat.”

  He paused as if he had to think about his answer. “A bit,” he admitted. “But more to observe.”

  “I’d think my hatred for you would be quite obvious by now.”

  His mouth twitched as if he found me amusing instead of scary like he should. “How are you feeli
ng?”

  “Your neck looks tasty.”

  His brows furrowed. “Sucking my blood won’t give you any sustenance. You’re not a Vampire.”

  “I plan to rip it out,” I snarled.

  “With what? Your dull human teeth? You can’t shift anymore, McNeilly. Can you even feel your feras?” he chortled, the sound so obnoxious it bypassed my brain and went straight for the eye twitching muscle.

  I gripped the crappy outfit they put me in. My jaw ached as I clenched my dull human teeth. “What did you give me?”

  “SomaX.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a derivative of somatostatin. It’s the hormone that inhibits cell division and growth, except this version has none of the gastrointestinal effects. You’re welcome for that, by the way.” He paused for a “thank you.” Not receiving anything but my best death glower, he continued. “We discovered SomaX while working with another experimental drug, one based on growth hormone. One I think you’re more familiar with—King’s Krank.”

  My body stiffened. The emergence of the genetic reordering drug had led to the deaths of many, including my former master, Lucien—good riddance—and my partner’s wife, Loretta. My stomach dropped at the memory of my friend’s pain. “That stuff’s fucked up. Why would you mess with it?”

  Tucker’s smug smile remained on his face.

  A light bulb flickered on in my head. The SRD’s complacency, the KK super-supe producing side effects, Tucker’s satisfied expression.

  “You’re working on KK with the Pharaoh.”

  The Pharaoh, an ancient Vampire had subtly played the supe community of the Lower Mainland for the last year, probably longer. His actions resulted in many deaths, and he aligned with Bola, the Demon tormentor from my past, which meant he had no redeemable qualities. Guess I didn’t need to ask Veronika which Demon she summoned.

  Tucker straightened and pulled on his shirt sleeves. “Well, I—”

  “I’m going to get out of here. And when I do, I’m going to slaughter the fuck out of all of you.” I spat. My blood boiled. “Every single person remotely responsible for Tristan’s death will feel my wrath, suffer my claws, and scream as my teeth rip into them.”

  A pause. Another annoying tilt of his head. “The SRD had no part in Tristan Kayne’s death. Although the turn of events ended up quite advantageous for us.”

  I hesitated. The assassins who killed Tristan lay dead on my apartment floor, or at least they had, but they acted on someone else’s orders. I didn’t need to investigate to know a hired thug when I saw one, and these men had gone after me before.

  When I found out who sent them, I’d rend their flesh from bone.

  Tucker snorted. “If you’re going to fling empty threats and curse the SRD, at least get the reason correct.” He spun on his heel and sauntered down the hall, pausing briefly at Veronika’s cell. He didn’t say anything, but her breathing quickened. Tucker’s healthy pulse sped up as he wordlessly watched the Witch. Until, without warning, he walked away. Nervous? Attracted? Just his normal sicko self? What did he plan for my Witch neighbour?

  The door finally clicked shut on Tucker’s fading footsteps, leaving me and Veronika to the near-silence of our prison cells, lost in our own thoughts, trapped with our own internal Demons.

  Images of Tristan kept running through my mind like an old video feed stuck on a loop. I’d failed him. He’d given his life to save mine, and I’d turned into a monster while the person or persons responsible for his death roamed free.

  My arms warmed as if Tristan ran his hands along them, as if he sat right beside me, holding me. As if he’d materialize if I closed my eyes and willed him into existence hard enough.

  But Tristan wasn’t in my prison cell. He wasn’t anywhere. He was gone, and I was alone. The silence of the moment allowed the weight of my reality to settle on my shoulders, pushing down until my body and soul threatened to crumple under the pressure.

  Tristan. My love.

  Even though we hadn’t completed the mating bond, we would have, given time, given the freedom.

  Good things come to those who wait? Hardly. Only more pain and suffering. More chance and possibilities of unknown factors popping up to knock me down.

  Well, one good thing would come from waiting.

  Tucker might think my threats empty, but I’d see them through. I’d crush them all.

  After all, revenge was one dish best served cold.

  “I’ll do it.” Veronika’s shaky voice whispered down the hall.

  I shook my head, wiping the tears trailing down my cheeks, and swallowing the sob lodged in my throat. “What?”

  “I’ll summon your Demon.”

  Chapter Four

  The summoning

  “Throw me to the wolves, and I shall return leading the pack.”

  ~Lisa Vanderpump

  A slew of emotions bubbled up to swirl around the base of my throat as if fate cackled gleefully while it stirred the pot. Excitement, fear…everything fluttered around, simmering, waiting to get out, while the grief—dark, ominous and with a mind of its own—continued to lurk a layer below, knowing it didn’t need to rage around with the other emotions, knowing it would always be there to haunt me.

  If Veronika was willing to summon a Demon, it left only one question. “When?”

  “After George brings us dinner.”

  My stomach rumbled. When was the last time I ate? “Is it any good?”

  “I feed my cats better.”

  “Great.” I withheld the crazy cat woman barb. Who was I to judge? Besides, Veronika planned to rip a Demon from the nether realm for me. Great time for me to keep my mouth shut.

  “I think they drug the meal to make us sleep.”

  “Just gets better and better…” I muttered.

  “Don’t eat any of it.”

  “But you’ve done such a great job selling it.”

  She snorted.

  I peered around my room, taking in more details, including the chipped paint in the cement on the far wall. I’d thrown myself at it. The scent of my blood and anguish still lingered.

  A small toilet jutted out of the wall. Beside it, a small sink with a soap dispenser.

  Well, isn’t this…cozy?

  Personally, I was a “keep the bathroom door shut” kind of girl. Not that I tried to deny what happened in there, but geez…maintain some kind of mystery.

  Whomever, whatever George was, he needed to bring our food and scram so we could get our escape on.

  Just as a whine trickled up my throat, the door at the end of the hall banged open and a large norm wheezed and lumbered down the hall. Something jingled with each step. Keys, probably.

  “Here ladies,” he drawled. Something clattered on the concrete floor. I turned in time to watch beige-coloured sludge in a shallow metal bowl slide under the bars. He must’ve kicked it over. The congealed slush slopped over the sides, and the edge of the bowl smelled of dirt. I’ve seen dog chow more appetizing.

  The guard didn’t travel down the hall far enough for me to view his foul, oily-smelling self. The shuffling of his feet grew distant, the door banged closed, and Veronika and I were once again encased in silence.

  “Real charmer,” I noted.

  “Yeah. He was one of the guards who brought you in. You pulled out of the drugs a bit and thrashed around. Gave them a good fight, even though you were heavily dosed. They call you hellcat.” She paused. “Anyway, you bit him, hard. He bled all over the hallway. It was pretty awesome.”

  My shoulders straightened, and I smiled.

  “He’s a jerk and totally deserved it. Even though you’ve been mostly comatose, he keeps his distance from your cell.”

  I glanced at the slop in the bowl he’d kicked under the bars at me. “Fucker.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  A thought flashed through my mind. With a little release of the animal magnetism I held from my part-divine nature, I could’ve lured him over, knocked him
out against the bars, and grabbed his keys. I’d pulled off more challenging feats. “I should’ve grabbed his keys.”

  “Wouldn’t do any good.”

  My elation and internal planning came to a screeching halt. Huh?

  “Our cells are magically locked as well as physically.”

  I grunted. Bloody magic. Always messing up my plans. “Well, let’s get this party started. Do you need me to do anything?”

  “Just keep quiet while I’m summoning. Once he arrives, though, you better yell something so he doesn’t smite me for my insolence.”

  “This one’s not much of a smiter.” More of a sex-mojo, orgy-inducing pervert, but I kept that detail to myself. She might get second thoughts.

  “Who is he? It is a he, right?”

  I groaned internally. Why did she have to ask? Now she’d definitely get second thoughts. “Sidragasum. I call him Sid.”

  An image of the seven-foot Demon with olive skin and a dark promising gaze flickered into my mind, followed quickly with a recent memory of him choking on banana nut loaf in my kitchen. A smile broke out across my face. Sid might not be a friend, exactly, but he wasn’t an enemy, either.

  “What’s his role in the nether realm?”

  “Err…” My voice trailed off as I mentally scrambled for ways to rebrand the Demon.

  “Andy.” Veronika’s tone turned hard.

  I cringed. Well, crap. I should tell her everything. I’d be pissed if the situation was reversed and someone withheld pertinent information. And heck, all Demons could be fickle and nasty. She already knew that. “He’s known as Sidragasum the Seducer, and he’s Satan’s assistant.”

  Veronika sucked in a deep breath.

  Fuck. She was going to back out. Ice seared through my limbs. I’d be stuck here as the SRD pincushion for the rest of my extended Shifter lifetime.