by A. R. Crebs
“Go,” Euclid spoke into Walten’s mind. “Get your revenge. His family for yours.”
Walten wasted no time, lunging toward her. Valeria may have been larger than him, but the sudden adrenaline rush Walten received allowed him the strength to knock her over. He wedged the weapon between her shoulder blades. Valeria barely squeaked as Walten repeated the actions. Blood splattered with each chop. Euclid continued watching from the safety of the shadows, drawing a shroud around himself as he moved toward the open window. As Walten worked, the Azure Sorcēarian slipped outside, casting a protective dome around himself.
A war cry announced the entrance of Quentin. Euclid kept a careful eye on the scene from the safety of his spells outside. The Scarlet warrior had his spear in hand, the blade illuminating in a vibrant blue. The massive soldier stumbled to a halt, his maroon eyes fearfully overlooking the nightmare before him. Goosebumps covered Euclid’s flesh as he watched. What would Quentin do? He could see the turmoil spread over his colleague’s face, see his soul ignite with a fire that was common in rage-fueled warriors.
“AHHHH!” Quentin’s only words were deafening howls as he tried to understand what was happening before his eyes.
Walten finally ceased the butchering of Quentin’s wife; her blood stained his face.
Quentin gaped in horror. “Y-you?” he choked. “But…WHY?!”
Walten flipped the hatchet between his slippery hands. “Eye for an eye.”
Quentin’s rage unfurled. He darted forward, moving across the room with a flash. His fist collided with Walten’s face, sending him broken and bloodied into the opposite wall. Euclid stifled a laugh. Quentin had crushed nearly every bone in the man’s body with that one hit. The warrior didn’t let up. He pressed on, punching the human repeatedly. Walten wasn’t going to be recognizable by the time this was over. The fun, however, was cut short as a series of thunders boomed in quick succession—one, two, three. The bolts of lightning created the forms of Sir Gaius, Gaius II, and Gaius III. Pity, no Dovian.
Euclid sank lower outside the window, doubling the strength of his masking spell. Thankfully, Gaius’ book had instructions on strengthening the enchantment. With a bit more practice, he’d have it perfected.
“Quentin! Hold!” Sir Gaius barked.
Quentin punched Walten once more and released him.
“AAH!” Quentin responded, turning toward the three. He gestured toward his son and wife, another shout of anguish rupturing from him. His fingers pulled at his hair, his screams never ceasing.
“Calm yourself,” Sir Gaius spoke in a soothing tone.
Quentin wouldn’t have it. Instead, he sprung forward and gripped his spear. With one more shout, he spun and sliced off Walten’s head. The human’s head dropped to the floor, rolling toward Euclid’s hiding place.
“Quentin, no!” Gaius III responded, reaching toward the enraged man.
He and Quentin were nearly the same age and had trained and battled together for many centuries. Being a kind and patient man, Quentin’s current behavior was unimaginable. The angered Sorcēarian took a threatening pose. His eyes had faded to a near pink; the light dissipated. Maddened, Quentin’s pupils darted between the bloodied bodies in the room. With a pained expression, he set his sight upon Gaius III. It was a knowing look. Gaius III shook his head.
Without uttering another word. Quentin spun his spear in his hands, holding it in front of himself. With one fluid movement, he lodged the blade of his spear into his own face. Clean through.
“Quent!” Gaius III shouted, rushing forward to catch Quentin’s body.
The other Gaius men watched in shocked silence.
Euclid dropped from the window, landing softly on the grass. Wasting no time, he teleported to his home. With a hop, he landed on his bed, staring at the ceiling in amazement. He laughed. It was a loud, cackling sound. Never in his life would he think Quentin would kill a human. And to make it even better, he committed suicide after! It was quite possibly one of Euclid’s favorite moments of his life. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Quentin’s eldest son, Antron, was currently on assignment. He’d no doubt be called back home, full of despair at the loss of his family by the hands of a human. At first, Euclid planned on using this adventure to gain Quentin’s favor. But his eldest son would have to do. Besides, Antron was more tolerable than Quentin.
“Looks like I have the first soldier to my army!” Euclid hooted, his laughter echoing through the halls of his homestead.
"Quentin’s Rage"
Chapter 22
Euclid materialized within the dark, grungy halls of the apartment level above the Strutting Moggy. It was late; the bar had closed for the night, but no doubt Teresa was still awake. With the chaotic situation that occurred at Quentin’s estate, Euclid needed an alibi. Besides, he had worked up a craving for his seductive lady friend. As he floated carefully toward the dancer’s apartment door, he overheard a muted conversation. Euclid froze, focusing his attention on the sound. Immediately his blood ran cold. There was a man in her room.
Euclid eased himself into the shadows, teleporting into the woman’s apartment. As he hid in the darkness, he watched with keen interest the heated affair. Occupying the sofa, the stranger leaned over Teresa, his hands digging into her hair. Teresa seemed to thoroughly enjoy the encounter. She lusted after the man in a way that made Euclid’s stomach churn. How was it possible? Did she choose a greasy human over him?
The man wore a backward cap, an old t-shirt with some random band’s label scrawled across it, and his jeans were torn and stained. Euclid had seen him before. He was a regular patron of the bar. In fact, he tipped Teresa very well when she worked the pole at the club. It was obvious to Euclid; he figured something like this went on while he was away. Did Euclid love Teresa? No, not in the slightest. She was, however, incredibly beautiful and tantalizing. The smell of her perfume was unlike any that was found on Ives. Her tanned skin was soft to touch, her long dark hair shimmered like silk, and the beautiful gray of her eyes reminded him of the lakes from home. Teresa had a gloss-lipped smile that lit up the room. Her sex-appeal was enough to make anyone fall. Wife material? Not likely, but she was good as a toy.
Having seen enough, Euclid flipped on the lamp in the corner of the room. A loud gasp came from the kissing couple as they immediately parted, pushing to opposite corners of the sofa.
“Euclid!” Teresa held a hand over her chest.
“Working late, I see?” Euclid eyed them from the corner of the room.
“Hey! I thought you said he was out of town!” the young man spat at Teresa.
In an instant, the Sorcēarian appeared behind the man. “I’m never out of town,” he snarled.
The young man jumped up in fear. Spinning, he removed a pistol from his pants and aimed it at Euclid. “St-stay back!”
“Ronnie, don’t.” Teresa, in a panic, moved away from the couch as well, her eyes flitting back and forth between the men.
Euclid scoffed. “Ronnie?” He shook his head; his expression was one of amusement and disgust.
Ronnie’s hands trembled as he gripped the weapon.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me?” Euclid asked.
“Teresa…how can you allow this thing in your apartment?” Ronnie said behind his teeth.
Euclid’s eyes pointed.
The young man gaped at the girl as if she were stupid. “Did you…sleep with him?”
Teresa rolled her eyes. “Of course!”
Ronnie looked truly disgusted. “And you didn’t tell me? You were just going to pass on whatever diseases this thing has?”
Euclid’s blood heated. So, Ronnie hated Sorcēarians.
Teresa stamped a foot. “You left me for that stupid whore, Ronnie!”
“That was one night!”
“What diseases does she have?”
“That is a monster, Teresa! Not some…joke! You know how I feel about them. You’re only doing this to get back at me!” Ronnie snarled. “For
some random night six months ago?”
Euclid watched the interactions between the two humans. Their thoughts were revolting. Suddenly, all of Teresa’s true motives came to surface. Humanity had certainly gotten to the point where they lied so well, they could lie to themselves. Though Euclid never held much hope for humanity, he still wasn’t fully prepared for a situation such as this.
“They kill, rape, pillage, and lie to us. You are playing with a dangerous thing,” Ronnie spat.
“Hey, Ronnie,” Euclid suddenly spoke up.
The man turned his attention to the Sorcēarian.
Euclid focused on the boy’s mind. “You gonna shoot, or what?” he asked with a smirk.
The gun clicked in his tremoring hand. A strange noise gurgled from Ronnie’s throat as he struggled and slowly turned the weapon on himself.
“What? What are you doing, man?” Ronnie’s voice quaked.
“Euclid, stop it!” Teresa shouted.
Euclid felt the woman’s emotions. She loved this ridiculous human, this disgusting creation that slept around on her countless times. Ronnie was some deadbeat that barely made a living by selling cheap imitation drugs and stolen weapons. Still, Teresa’s love for the man was greater than anything she had displayed for Euclid. It only angered the Sorcēarian more.
Ronnie pressed the barrel against his temple and promptly pulled the trigger. Red matter sprayed across the room, covering the couch and old worn carpet. Teresa shrieked. Euclid quickly rushed to her side, covering her mouth.
“I don’t come in for one night, and I find out that you are messing around with another man?” he harshly whispered. “Are you so lustful?”
Teresa fought against Euclid’s hold, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s body. Her heavy breaths hissed in response.
“I’m glad I showed up when I did,” Euclid said in a more soothing tone as he gently ran a finger over the smooth skin of her arm. “You’re mine, Teresa. No one else’s.”
She hastily shrugged his hand away from her face. “I’m not yours,” she defiantly spoke.
“You may not be, but that child inside of you belongs to me.” Euclid placed his hand against her flat stomach. His face immediately fell.
Teresa whimpered and pushed away. She turned to face him, her hands covering her stomach.
“Where is it?!” The pulse was gone. Teresa was supposed to be carrying his child. She was still early in her pregnancy, but Euclid would have been able to feel its presence.
She breathed erratically, on the verge of a panic attack. “It’s gone.”
“Gone?” Euclid asked with one eye twitching. “You mean…you miscarried?”
Teresa grit her teeth. “Aborted.”
Time seemed to stop. Aborted? Teresa aborted his unborn child. Euclid couldn’t give a shit less about this miserable creation standing before him, but his child was entirely different.
“You had an abortion.” Euclid’s hands balled.
“Yeah. Of course. Why would I carry your child?” she maliciously asked.
“We had plans. You…you were excited.”
“I was terrified!” Tears lined her eyes. “You lied to me.”
Euclid gasped with a sharp laugh. “I…lied to you?”
“You didn’t tell me that Sorcēarians could bypass birth control.”
“I wasn’t aware.”
“I did some research. Humans can’t safely retain Sorcēarian children. It would have killed me, Euclid!” Her anger surfaced. “You’re telling me that you weren’t aware that me having your child was a death sentence?”
“No, I was aware.” Euclid waved a hand.
Teresa whimpered. “So…you…wanted me to die?”
“For my child, yes.” Euclid chuckled. “Why on earth would I care about you? Sure, getting you pregnant was not intended. But once you said you were carrying my child, I was both scared and ecstatic! Having an heir…I never really thought about it before. Wasting my time on romantic quests for a wife was never in the cards. This was the perfect opportunity. And you ruined it.”
“You…are insane!” Teresa snapped.
“I am insane?” Euclid’s laughter immediately died as he gave the woman a look most fierce. “A stripper gets knocked up by a Sorcēarian, has an abortion, and copes with it all by trying to sleep with her abusive, cheating ex.” Euclid’s world spun as his rage overtook him. “And you thought I would be perfectly fine by all of this?”
“I…I’m breaking up with you Euclid. I don’t want to ever see you again,” she shakily whispered. Her eyes fell to Ronnie’s corpse.
“It doesn’t work that way, love.” In a flash, Euclid rushed to place his hands around her neck. He halted, realization sinking in. “Hold up.”
Teresa froze. “What? What are you doing?” She struggled to move but found her body trapped in place.
Euclid calmly stepped away. “I’m not dirtying my hands with your filthy blood.”
Against her will, Teresa moved toward Ronnie’s body. She crouched, removing the gun from his hand. Sobbing, she straightened and began to raise the weapon.
“Please,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”
“You were going to die either way. You could have at least given me what I wanted,” Euclid numbly stated.
“No! Please!!” she screamed as she pressed the gun against her head.
“There is no forgiveness for you,” Euclid harshly whispered.
There came a sudden knock at the door. “Teresa? You okay? I heard something.”
Teresa let out a bloodcurdling scream as she pulled the trigger, taking her own life. The door burst open, and Euclid quickly looked to the intruder, his hand reaching for his frequency tuner. The bartender, Ivan, rushed into the room. Of course, sometimes the woman lingered after hours in the bar downstairs, burying her sorrows in copious amounts of booze. Euclid had been entirely too careless. As he twisted the dial, he implanted an image in the woman’s mind. It was a last second move, and his decision surprised even himself. At least now his tracks would be covered. Ivan’s vision of the Sorcēarian had been altered. Euclid disappeared.
Ivan came to a halt beside the sofa, her sight dropping to the two bodies on the floor.
“Teresa?” she squeaked.
It was like a nightmare—the dim lighting, the blood splatters, and the two corpses lying beside one another. She screamed.
***
“Alright, I’m going to let go of your hand now. Think you can manage?” I’Lanthe spoke softly, one hand clasped with Dovian’s, another on his shoulder.
Dovian fought to hide his blush. “Yes, yes. I think I will be fine.”
“Really? You assured me last time,” she said with a giggle.
Dovian sighed, and I’Lanthe promptly released her hand from his. The man glided forward, his ice skates sliding across the frozen lake. Though it wasn’t winter, a simple touch of I’Lanthe’s power turned part of the lake into a miniature skating rink for the two of them. It all had begun over the innocent chatter of the cooler months. She brought up her love of cinnamon and pumpkin flavored everything. How she enjoyed hot cocoa after a day of sledding and ice skating. This was how the woman found out her beloved Dovian had never truly learned to skate. Sure, he had a few times before, but his grace was that of a newborn calf.
The cool air chilled Dovian’s face as he moved closer to the edge of the ice floor. I’Lanthe laughed and cheered as the man turned. He looked over his shoulder, trying to catch a view of her smiling face, his own grin widening. As he stepped forward to press on, he lost his balance. One foot forward, then the other, and back and forth he went as his arms windmilled. A loud groan ruptured from his throat as he slouched forward and then flew in the opposite direction onto his backside.
“Oh, dear!” I’Lanthe couldn’t hold back her hooting laugh. She effortlessly glided toward the fallen man. Dovian rolled to his side, trying to get a foothold, but slipped again. After that he remained on the icy floor, his robes splayed around him. “You wo
uld’ve made that turn if you didn’t crane your neck so much to look at me.”
Dovian held out a hand to which the woman helped him to his feet. “Ah, yes. I got tempted to see your expression to my success. Unfortunately, you were my downfall.”
I’Lanthe pursed her lips. “Sure, blame me for your lack of coordination.”
Dovian chuckled low, brushing the ice flakes from his clothing. He glanced at her, and his face immediately fell; his brow wrinkled.
“What is it?” she asked, looking back to see what caught his attention.
The Gaius lineage joined by Narita, Fardon, and Azera made their way toward them. Behind them were a pair of human police officers. Dovian’s stomach flip-flopped.
“Dovian, may we have a word?” Sir Gaius called out. The Elder curiously eyed the frozen water only for a moment before his crystalline eyes set on the couple.
I’Lanthe looped her arm around Dovian’s, and they skated toward the shore.
“Is everything alright?” Dovian asked.
“We’ve been looking for you all morning,” his father barked.
Dovian frowned. “I left my gear at the house. I’ve been with I’Lanthe all morning.”
“And last night?” his father quickly asked.
I’Lanthe and Dovian peered at one another. “Ah, no. I was in my room.” Their grave expressions made Dovian nervous. “Is there something wrong?”
Narita spoke up. “I’Lanthe, were you with Dovian at all last night? In his room? Speaking with him at all?”
I’Lanthe swallowed thickly. Something was wrong. To be questioned so much, she felt the need to lie, to say she had been with him. Was he in some sort of trouble? Even if she would lie, Fardon and Azera would most likely see it.
“No. I was at home in my room. I was busy studying.” I’Lanthe tugged on her hands.
The older bunch looked to one another, exchanging worrying expressions.
Sir Gaius held out his hand. “Dovian, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with us.”