A Beast Among Gods (The Mac Tire Chronicles)

by Garnet Davenport

  My wolf went straight to him. He wouldn’t let me take over and transition back. My wolf needed this. But so did I. I knew he wasn’t going to survive. There was too much blood, too much pain, and he was too far gone. My heart ripped even more.

  His mouth opened and closed a few times, and his hand moved toward my face. His fingers touched the side of my face, and I felt a tear run down my muzzle. This was our goodbye. His hand fell, and his eyes closed. He wasn’t struggling anymore. He was completely still.

  ➣ Chapter 13

  My Mac Tire Is Gone Forever

  I watched Jamie for another few moments. I wanted him to get up, but he didn’t. My heart had broken. I had wondered if Jamie could have been my mate. I’d never know the feeling of a mate like the other mac tires. Aodhan had once said that I would have to find love the hard way and treasure it as a special gift. Letting it breathe when it needed to and grow when it was ready and let my mate love me for who I am.

  But this was proof I’d never have that with anyone. I don’t deserve the love of a mate, and I didn’t deserve Jamie. I heard footsteps come up behind me. A low growl came from the back of my throat. I turned, my vision turning red as I see a guard come up behind me.

  “Good puppy.” He prodded at me.

  I would kill him for what he had done.

  I stood, my height taller than a normal mac tire. I had seen John’s wolf once, and I knew mine was taller. Part ogre had its advantages. I bared my teeth.

  He put his hands up and started to back up.

  “This wasn’t me. Your father—”

  That’s all I needed. I went for him. I ripped him apart from head to toe, leaving an unrecognizable pile of remains. Now covered in blood, I went for my father. I’d tear his heart out just as he had done. I turned back, not wanting to leave Jamie lying there alone, but I had to show them who they had dared to bring down.

  Step by step, I got closer to my father’s office. The mere look of me had all the other boys turning away and retreating back into their rooms. The guards ran. When I got to my father’s office, I heard him on the other side of the door. I backed up and went running at the door. My shoulder making contact and breaking the door down in one swift motion.

  I looked directly at my father. Saliva mixed with blood dripping from my mouth. I growled at him.

  He chuckled. “This was your fault.”

  I barked out a growl.

  “I saw you. The cameras caught you and him… together.”

  I took another step toward him, my wolf giving me control and transitioning back into human form. As human as I could be. My skin still had a mossy hue, and my hair was still thick in most areas. I felt my muscles tense. That was when I felt the fangs sticking out of my mouth. Two on the top and two on the bottom. Jagged and crooked. I was a true beast.

  “William?” my father had said, caution in his tone.

  “You did this.”

  “It had to be done,” he replied.

  “No. This had to be done.” I growled, and when charging at him, I took the sharpest thing I could find on his desk and leapt over the top, crouching on top of it and pulling him up and out of his chair and off his feet. “You deserve this.”

  I stabbed it directly through his neck and dropped him to the floor. He bled out as I watched, still crouched on top of his desk. I turned, hearing guards behind me. They lowered their eyes to me and kneeled on one knee.

  “Commander,” they said as one.

  “GOOOOO!” I roared.

  They all got up and ran from me. I checked to make sure I had killed my father and then walked slowly back to my room to figure out what to do with Jamie. I was holding back my emotions. I felt my wolf back away. He needed time. I’d let him have the time he needed.

  I walked into my room to see several other boys surrounding Jamie. I growled. They rose from their crouch over him. They had gently placed a sheet over him. Caring and sorrow filled the room. I looked at these boys who had hated Jamie. Had tormented him for years. He had no one for most of his life until I came around.

  “William, we’re so sorry. If we had known they were going do this, we wouldn’t have let it happen,” one of them said.

  I looked at Jamie’s body. Blood soaking through the sheet. I turned off my emotions.

  “We have a ceremony we do for our dead,” another one said.

  “He deserves a warrior’s burial,” I said.

  “We will do whatever you want.”

  “Why are you willing to help now?” I asked.

  “We were told to do it. We never wanted to. But now that the guards are gone and the Commander is gone, we don’t have to follow them anymore.”

  “Fine,” I said, leaning down to pick him up.

  He wasn’t going to lie on the floor. He deserved better. I sat his limp body onto my bed and got in next to him. I couldn’t take the sheet off of him, but I couldn’t leave him either.

  “Leave us,” I ordered in a low growl.

  They walked out of our room, and I wrapped my arm around Jamie and pulled him in close. I never fell asleep that night, and I never let him go.

  ➣ Chapter 14

  Pay It Forward

  One of the boys cautiously came into our room the next day. I hadn’t moved the entire night. Jamie was still securely nestled into my chest. I wasn’t ready to give him up. His fingers had started to stiffen, and I couldn’t hold onto his hand any longer.

  “William?” he said.

  “What?” I replied, my voice hoarse from the night and nonuse.

  “We… we made arrangements for Jamie.”

  “Fine.” I growled.

  I moved toward Jamie. I lifted the sheet and placed my fingers on his pale cheek, and said, “Thank you for showing me love. I’ll never forget you.”

  I covered him back up with the sheet and got up to walk away from him.

  “You don’t want to stay?” the boy asked.

  “No.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “About what?” I growled.

  “You’re the Commander. What are we supposed to do?”

  “Don’t do anything. Leave from here. Go out into the world and live. Don’t show anyone who you really are,” I said and then walked away.

  ***

  I had been traveling for a few hours when a big truck stopped on the side of the road. The window rolled down, and the guy inside yelled out.

  “Where you headed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’m on my way to Wisconsin. I can take you there. That’s about eight hundred miles.”

  Eight hundred miles away sounded really good.

  “Sure.”

  The guy leaned over and opened the door. I climbed up and sat in the passenger seat. He had country music playing, and the sound from the engine was loud to my sensitive ears. He got a look at me and narrowed his eyes on me.

  “I’m not looking for any trouble, but I’ve got to know if you’re on the run from the law,” he said.

  “No, my friend was in an accident. He didn’t make it,” I said low.

  “Well, I’ll be stopping for a break in about three hours. You can shower at the truck stop and get something to eat.”

  “I don’t have any money,” I said.

  “That’s all right. It looks like you’ve had one hell of a night, and you’re going to need to clean yourself up and get something in your belly. I don’t mind helping you out. Just so long as you pay it forward.”

  “Pay it forward?” I asked, never hearing the phrase before.

  “Yeah, it means to do something nice for someone else and then they do something nice for the next person they meet, and it keeps going forward.”

  “Oh, I get it. That’s nice. I’ve never had something like that happen to me.”

  “It looks like you’ve had a long life for the years you’ve traveled. Sometimes, I feel the same. I’ve got my honey at home. She’s trying to help a friend so she couldn’t be
with us, but she wouldn’t hesitate to help,” he said.

  That was when I got a good look at him. Auburn hair just past shoulder length, a long auburn beard with a few gray hair growing wild, and by the look of him, he has some height and muscle on him.

  “What can I call you, young man?” he asked.

  “My name is William,” I respond.

  “William, aye? Doesn’t sound like it fits you very well.”

  “It doesn’t?” I respond.

  “Hmm, how about Striker?”

  “Striker?” I asked.

  “Yep, I think it fits you. You’re strong, courageous, loving, and the first in and last out. You strike without restraint.”

  I looked over at him. Where did he… how did he…? I was so confused.

  “Let me introduce myself. My name is Manannan Mac Lir. I know it’s a mouthful. But it’s an old family name. Just call me Manny.”

  “Manny?”

  “Yep, it’s just easier to say. Plus, I don’t mind it one bit.” He chuckled.

  I gave him a forced smile.

  We sat and listened to the music. It was sad and lonely, but it made me feel not so alone. He pulled off the interstate and toward a huge gas station that was filled with more big trucks.

  “I’m going to stop and get fuel, and then we will park for lunch,” he said, getting out of the truck and punching numbers in on the keypad for fuel.

  I took a minute to look around at the inside of his truck. There was a bed and refrigerator and a place where he had a TV hooked up. It was literally a home on wheels. There was some feminine stuff around, like a light pink blanket on the bed and a wolf stuffed animal at the pillows.

  Manny got back into the truck and drove us around to back into a space. He looked at me then went into the back by the bed.

  “It’s a little cold out there. How about you wear this coat in, and we will see if we can find you something in there to change into. It might be a little big but better than getting stopped with all that blood on your shirt.”

  I took the coat and put it on.

  “Come on, Striker,” he said, grabbing a bookbag from the upper bunk and getting out of the truck.

  Inside, he goes to grab a shirt from the back wall. This one had two wolves, and then he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and another coat that would fit me better.

  “There’s a sandwich place over there; we can get something to go after you shower,” he said and went up to the register.

  “These and two showers.”

  “Do you need extra towels?” the woman asked.

  Manny turned back to me, the question on his face.

  I shook my head.

  “We’re good. Add these,” he said, grabbing a couple of bottled waters from the cooler by the register.

  He paid and then walked away. I followed close. There were doors with keypads next to them all down the hall in both directions. Here we go. He typed in the number and opened the door. The room was small but clean with a sink, toilet, and full shower. There was a towel and washcloth on the sink.

  “There’s soap in the shower. Take your time. I’ll be over here in seven, and I’ll meet you right out there by the entrance. I won’t leave you here. I made a promise, and I plan to see it through. Pay it forward,” he said.

  I nodded and said, “Manny?”

  He turned back to me and said, “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  ➣ Chapter 15

  A Beast Walks Into A Bar

  I needed to clean myself thoroughly. As I peeled the dried blood-covered shirt off of my body, I got a look at the crimson stain covering my chest. I tossed the shirt in the trash and then pulled it out, gripping it tight before dropping it back again. Then I took my pants off and tossed them too. I set the bag of clothes Manny had just paid for on the counter. And opened the water bottle he had bought for me. I tipped it back and drank more than half before setting it down.

  I got into the shower and started it, getting a decently hot temperature. I cleaned myself completely with the packaged sample size bar soap. I put my head under the water and let the warmth soothe my aching—inside and out. Images of Jamie’s last moment were burned into my memory.

  I’d finally taken revenge on my father for everything he had done to the people I’d loved. He deserved everything he got. He thought he could control me by taking everyone from me. I’d shown him.

  When I turned off the water, I grabbed the towel to wrap around my waist. The steam has fogged up the mirror. I had taken my hand and wiped across the middle. I was looking at my skin. There was still a slight mossy hue at the center of my chest. I rubbed at it, but it wasn’t a stain. It was me.

  I dried off and pulled on the sweat pants then the shirt and the coat he had gotten for me. Everything else went into the trash. I grabbed the bottle of water and finished drinking it down then opened the door and went toward where Manny had told me to wait.

  Manny was waiting for me. His hair still wet but combed through for a cleaner look.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Better,” I replied, even though we both knew I was feeling the lowest of my life.

  “Good. Let’s get some sandwiches and get back on the road.”

  Once we were back in his truck, sandwiches in hand, he pulled back out onto the road. We talked a little more. He told me that his wife and he had never had any kids for themselves, but they had taken care of many over the years. Then the conversation turned to Jamie. I told him all about Jamie. How his parents had passed when he was little and that he had always been the runt of his class. I told him that there was an accident and that he took his last breath looking at me, and then I turned my head and stared out the window at the trees as we drove on.

  At the next truck stop, Manny had pulled out some paper and wrote some things down with a ruler and then placed it in a notebook.

  “I know the owner of that bar over there pretty well. How about I find out if you can work for the bed in his back room, and maybe it will give you something positive to keep waking up for.”

  “All right.”

  “Good, come with me,” he said.

  We walked across the parking lot and over to the bar with a neon sign that read Twisted Belly. The wooden door squeaked loud when Manny opened the door. There were a few rough looking guys sitting at the bar on stools, five shelves of liquor sitting on the wall behind the bar, and an older guy wearing a leather vest with a scar starting over his eyebrow and finishing on his cheek. His eye had a white foggy tint to it.

  “Jefferies!” Manny called out.

  The man looked up, smiled, and called out, coming from behind the bar, “Mac Lir, my friend!”

  They came together and patted each other’s back in a manly hug.

  “It’s good to see you, my old friend. How’s it going?” the man Manny had called Jefferies asked.

  “Just as always. Feeling the ache of getting old.” He laughed.

  “That’s good, my friend. That’s good.” Manny chuckled.

  “Who’s this here?” Jefferies asked.

  “This is Striker. I met him out on the road. He’s had a pretty hard couple of days. Just lost a friend. And he’s looking for somewhere new. I was thinking that back room would be available, and you might be looking for a bus boy.”

  “Well, for you, of course.” Jeffries eyed me. He lifted his nose and smiled. Something I remembered the officer had done when my mother was killed. “Good to meet you, Striker, was it?”

  “Yes, sir. Manny gave me the nickname,” I replied.

  “I think it fits. It’ll be good to have someone young around for some extra help. You know it’s tough getting older. The old bones want to work, but most of the time, it’s just too much.”

  “I can definitely help,” I said.

  “Well, good. Let me show you the room. It’s a little dusty, and I’ll grab some sheets and blankets, but it will work for now. We will get you started working after a good dinner and some
sleep.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jeffries opened the door at the back end of the stockroom. He wasn’t joking about the fact that it was dusty, but it would work.

  I nodded.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Good. I’ve got a stew in the slow cooker, and it should be ready. Mac Lir, do you want to stay for dinner?” Jefferies asked.

  “I can’t this trip through. Maybe next time. I’m going to get some sleep, and I’ve got to get going early to go pick up the wife.”

  “Tell her I said hello.”

  “Will do,” Manny said and started to move toward the door. “Striker, here’s my number. If you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away. I travel between these states more than most people and can be by here the same day.”

  “All right,” I respond.

  “Come give me a hug,” he said. He wrapped me in his arms and patted my back then said, “It’s going to get better. I promise you.”

  “Thanks, Manny… for everything.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now, go be the man you were meant to be. We will see each other again one day.”

  I watched as Manny left. Jefferies came out to me with two bowls of stew. He set one down in front of me and then the other in front of him. He went behind the bar and grabbed a couple of large spoons and a couple of glasses. He opened a loose ice chest and scooped the cups in to fill them with ice.

  “Do you want a soda? I’ve also got water, cranberry juice, and half and half.”

  “Half and half, what’s that?” I asked.

  “You’ve never heard of half and half? It’s equal parts milk and cream. Most people use it in their coffee. But it’s nice to drink every once in a while.”

  I hadn’t wanted that. I shook my head, and I heard a chuckle.

  “Just water, please,” I answered.

  “Got it,” he said and poured water into both of our cups and then came back over. “Well, Striker, you don’t have to tell me about yourself. I’d like to know but take your time. I’ll be here if you want to talk. I also see that you are wearing everything you own. I’ll take you to the store tomorrow for a couple extra shirts and things. I’d send the missus, but she’d probably embarrass the heck out of you while trying on clothes.” He looked me up and down. “You’re a good size. How old are you, eighteen or nineteen?”